Alright, I cheated, these are Memelas.
But you can fold them and eat them like they're tacos, and who would even bother with tacos at Guelaguetza after they've had the Memela Sampler?
Thick masa coasters covered in lard, white with queso fresco snow. It's a canvas to be covered with every indulgent topping; milky shreds of Oaxacan string cheese; strings of crunchy, tangy nopales; thin squares of grilled beef; tiles of chili powder-seasoned pork; grains of salty-spicy chorizo. Add both salsas, the tangy, biting green and the darker, burning red. With every bite, no matter which one you're eating, the fragrant savor of lard wafts through at the end of every swallow, and you won't stop eating until there are no swallows left. Everyone has a favorite among these masa-piles of lard, but I'd eat all five every time.
Prepare the take-home boxes. The Festival de Moles is made for two, but there is bound to be some Oaxacan liquid gold left over.
Indulge first in the lighter, sweeter coloradito - it's all dulce, sweet and gentler, round edges. The feisty estofado can come next or last, a tangy stew-like sauce full of green olives and raisins. I poured this one over some stewed pork at home and it was heaven. Mole negro is dark, earthy, and sweet, like a quiet storm that brews beneath. Mole Rojo is similarly earthy but the finish is sweeter with a little more light. Douse your chicken, douse your rice. Drag your floppy, impossibly fluffy, handmade corn tortilla through until it's dripping. Do whatever it takes to get every bit of mole into your mouth and savor every single drop.
Of everything I've had in LA, Guelaguetza is among the best. Not the best Mexican, just the best. I'd say more about their merits, but Guelaguetza speaks for itself.