Alberta, Las Vegas and Dubai aren't the only jurisdictions experiencing unprecedented building booms these days. Boosters of Playa del Carmen, the Mexican resort community situated an hour's drive south of Cancun claim it's the fastest growing city in Latin America.

That boast -- who are we to argue? -- is propelled by burgeoning thousands of admirers, drawn to the once sleepy fishing village by its creamy beaches, impossibly azure Caribbean waters, secure streets and myriad shopping, dining and recreational possibilities.

Local bylaws have kept highrise hotel towers away from the heart of the town. And as a local savant who has watched -- with mixed feelings - the Riviera Maya town morph from paradisal backwater to big money resort destination, even glittering 21st-century Playa has retained a modicum of small-town street cred. Well, at least compared with the monoliths and mega malls of Cancun.

Still, the very creature comforts, preponderance of English-speaking locals and branded emporiums -- from Wal-Mart to Starbucks to Burger King -- that make so many North American tourists feel more comfortable also threaten to rob Playa of its soul and heritage. Never mind the famously generic all-inclusive resorts or condo rental units, indistinguishable from any sunny winter destination anywhere. It is now also possible to lodge in a charming, smallish inn just off Quinta Avenida, the community's touristy (if rather well-designed) pedestrian thoroughfare and barely register the fact that you are in the middle of the fabled, fabulous Yucatan peninsula.

Sure, there's absolutely nothing wrong with hard-working sods from Wheeling or Winnipeg kicking back for some serious beach and margarita time. Sitting under a palm-thatched palapa and reading a book can hardly be described as wasted time on a holiday.

That said, it seems a shame so many visitors barely get a taste -- figuratively and literally -- of the myriad exotic pleasures the peninsula has to offer. That certainly includes the food and drink of the Yucatan. One of Mexico's most satisfying and arcane regional cuisines, its fare is as different from the mole poblano of Puebla or the birria of Guadalajara as Tulsa pit barbecue from Quebec City tourtiere.

The Yucatan may have its agricultural shortcomings, with its porous limestone crust of earth, lack of above-ground rivers and dry regions. But the ancient Maya were nonetheless blessed with marvelous indigenous crops including corn, beans, squash, cacao, chiles and tomatoes, to name but a few that have famously, profoundly travelled to the world's kitchens. Add to that turkey, native to the peninsula, and a rich and varied bounty from the sea.

The very same grouper (mero) that has become an increasingly pricey culinary cult in Florida is simply the default fish of the Yucatan, too commonplace to even be named on many menus. The local honey, collected for thousands of years here is prized throughout Mexico, a key ingredient in xtabentun, the beguiling, strangely un-cloying anise-like liqueur that is a must-drink on any visit. Ditto for anything -- and there seem be no limits, from festive cocktails to egg dishes -- made with chaya, a local green leafy plant that looks a bit like New Zealand spinach, but has a pleasantly mild, oddly nutty flavour.

It's cheering that it is still possible to experience genuine regional cooking using those trademarked Yucateco ingredients and many other delights, right at sun 'n' fun ground zero in Playa, at establishments tucked between branded pizza parlours and faux-Mediterranean bistros.

Yaxche, just off the Quinta strip at Calle 8 is an elegant place bearing Canadian-style prices that revels in its sense of place. It celebrates the region's storied past with its reproductions of temple stelae and murals of Maya deities along with an impressive menu.

You couldn't go wrong with the fall-off-the-fork cochinita pibil here, not to mention a fine sopa de lima. The sublime pavo en relleno negro is an absolute standout, turkey pieces simmered (rather than roasted) in a shiny, complex, distinctively eye-popping black sauce.

If you allow yourself one shamelessly tourist ritual on the trip, make it ordering the café Maya, as the meseros (servers) juggle a molten mixture in a floor show worthy of the Xcaret theme park just down the highway.

Right on the beach in the centre of town near the Cozumel ferry dock at Calle 2 Norte is the venerable and atmospheric landmark La Tarraya, owned by local fisherman. Seven dollars will buy a complete meal starring the fantastic pescado tikin-xic, grouper marinated in achiote paste and slow-cooked with vegetables in a banana leaf. La Cueva del Chango (The Monkey Cave) is located just off at the quieter northern section of the Quinta strip, more garden than cavern, but blessed with a solid kitchen staff and a festive vibe. The grilled pineapple appetizer topped with shrimp and a light tomato sauce (pina con camarones en chiltomate) is particularly memorable. The monkey? Well, his spirit is still around, apparently.

Mind you, if genuine spelunking is your thing, look no further than Alux, just west of the highway on busy Avenida Juarez. There is certainly better and cheaper food and drink to be had in town, but none set in a gorgeous underground cavern. Sit among the stalactites and stalagmites, order up a few plates of botanas (snacks), a round of mojitos and marvel at the perfect absurdity of it all.

Most of the aforementioned establishments might be found in better guidebooks and online. But as anywhere in the country, venturing off the grid has its major attractions and rewards.

Take it as natural law that the further away you walk from the beach, the closer you get to Mexico, or at least to Mexicans. Most of the thousands who have moved to Playa from all over the nation -- along with Central and South America -- do not sup in tarted-up caverns or live in swish condos near the wind surfers, for that matter.

But they demand well-prepared, authentic food, drink and honest value. They get it. And in a proud nation that reportedly has more statutory holidays than any other, hard-working Mexicans enjoy their time off from their labours with an infectious gusto.

Innkeeper Nicola Inwood, whose superbly managed Tropical Casablanca is one of Playa's lodging gems, has taken it upon herself to promote what she's been calling the 30th Avenue restaurant crawl. The latter verb is instructive, since participants will be stuffed like a chile en nogada by the time they stare down the final pickled onion.

It's a pleasant five-block walk west from the beach along residential Calle 22 to 30 Avenida, a busy commercial thoroughfare lined with movie rental outlets, battery, hardware, drugstores and auto parts shops servicing Mexican locals. Although Playa is a new town, its pleasantly distressed working-class sections look much older, a weird national phenomenon. Anyway, that's just all right under the circumstances, giving the avenue a bit of an edge light- years removed from the Home Depot plaza not so far away.

La Bamba Jarocha occupies the corner spot, the name owing to its woman proprietor's roots in the nearby gulf coast state of Veracruz, a culinary hotspot with its own regal regional cuisine. As you might imagine, seafood is the main attraction here, wonderfully so. Our party of four, stone sober, agreed that the sopa de mariscos here is not only the best seafood soup we've had anywhere on Earth --Italy, California, Atlantic Canada and France included -- but also one of the finest soups, period.

We returned the next night for the same thick, rich, beguiling meal, priced at just over $8 for a bowl two could barely finish. The ostiones 4X4, roasted with sauces of string cheese or chipotle chiles were terrific, along with the impossibly fresh fish filet dinners ($7.50!) prepared six different ways to your taste, including the classic Veracruzano, with a sauce of tomatoes, capers, onions, chiles and olives.

Loncheria Dona Maria, a vision in bright blue paint is a classic Yucateco diner turning out finger-food favourites led by crisp, non-greasy salbutes, panuchos, chicken empanadas and tortas (sandwiches) along with rico caldos (stews) and refreshing licuados, the fruit smoothies made with milk or ice water.

Tacqueria El Pastorcito falls in a category of family cafes prized by Mexicans all over the land, from Sonora to Chiapas. The matinee idols at these places are the tacos al pastor, with tender, lean pork cut from a donair-like spit powered by a wood fire, topped with roasted pineapple and slapped on hot tortillas, with plenty of sides. The visuals in the large, balconied premises with Saltillo tile floors and a ramada-style roof are unforgettable, complete with acid green and orange walls, a trippy waterfall and Maya-esque murals. Bohemia, arguably Mexico's finest commercial brew is sold here, along with passable Baja California wine, a relative rarity on the avenue.

By the time you reach El Fogon across the street, another family beanery sporting equally impressive murals on a campesino country kitchen theme, the sense that a minor stroke might be just around the corner is palpable. The music was great -- the incomparable Los Tigres del Norte were on the box that night, spinning another norteno border-crossing epic. The free dips accompanying the totopos (tortilla chips) were of remarkable quality, especially a tart, somewhat mysterious nopales (paddle cactus) concoction. And even with a coronary coming on, how could one resist sharing a taco loco, a massive and delicious signature dish that seemed to include everything in a homemade flour tortilla but Vicente Fox's moustache.

Fuller and wiser, we waddled happily back to the clean, white bougainvillea covered walls of our sanctuary, more than convinced that we had literally had a taste of the real thing, available to visitors who need only take the time to savour what Mexicans do every night.

akellogg@thejournal.canwest.com

A TASTE OF THE YUCATAN:

- Panuchos, Salbutes -- thick handmade tortillas variously covered with shredded turkey, avocado, refried black beans, pickled onions and other garnishes

- Poc-Chuc -- slices of lean pork marinated in local sour orange (naranja agria), a charred tomato sauce and a seasoning paste

- Cochinita Pibil, Pollo Pibil -- lean pork or chicken marinated in achiote paste (made with annatto seeds and diluted in naranja agria) wrapped in banana leaves and slow-cooked in a pit, barbecue or oven

- Sopa de Lima -- the "national soup" of the region, made with turkey or chicken stock, limes and tortilla strips

- Papadzules -- enchilada-like rolled corn tortillas stuffed with hard-boiled eggs and topped with pumpkin seed (pepitas semillas) paste and a light tomato sauce

- Budin de Chayote -- a savoury pudding made with chayote squash (light green, pear-shaped), eggs, butter and crema, Mexico's crème fraiche

- Frijoles Negros de Olla -- Possibly owing to its close proximity to Cuba, black or turtle beans are the default frijoles of the Yucatan, bought dried, then pot-cooked with garlic, epazote (a green, dried or fresh herb), onion and chiles

- Chiles habanero -- along with the milder, light green or yellow chile x'catik, small green habaneros -- similar to the scotch bonnets of the Caribbean islands -- are the favourites here, delicious, but deadly hot

- Longaniza asada -- the mild pork sausages of the Yucatan, perhaps most famously made by the butchers of the lovely colonial town of Valladolid

- Pan de Cazon -- marinated shark -- or other firm white fish -- sandwiched with onions, beans and sweet peppers between stacked corn tortillas (tortillas de maiz) and topped with a mild or spicy tomato-chile sauce

- Kibes -- Given significant Lebanese immigration over the years, the beloved meat and cracked-wheat patties of Beirut are also popular on the streets and cafes of Merida

- Ceviche, Coctel de Camaron -- Although enjoyed throughout the world, the ceviche (seafood "cooked" in citrus juice, cilantro and chiles) and shrimp cocktails of the Yucatan are among the freshest and most toothsome anywhere

- Sorbete de Limon -- So it goes for the fabulous, freshly prepared ices and ice creams of the Yucatan, the former especially prized in local parlours

- Sikil-Pak -- of the many dozens of salsas served to accompany totopos (tortilla chips) throughout North America, surely this pumpkin-seed dip, made with charred tomatoes and cilantro, is one of the most addictive

Alan Kellogg
Journal Staff Writer - Edmonton Journal