Oakland’s Fruitvale Public Market is a gateway to Mexico – no border crossing needed

Spanish music blares, crowds bustle and the aroma of savory and sweet treats wafts into every corner of Oakland’s Fruitvale Public Market, a space offering Latin American finds curated by small entrepreneurs for more than two decades.

Open on weekdays, in the heart of Oakland’s Fruitvale neighborhood, the 7,000-square-foot space is home to small businesses offering authentic Latino delights that range from tacos, sweet breads and fresh fruit to candies, churros, beaded jewelry and clothing.

There’s Tacos El Ultimo Baile, where those tortillas are filled with asada, pastor, carnitas, pollo, fish, shrimp and more, with chopped onions and salsas at the ready.

Across the way in the courtyard, the Churros Mexicanos stand sells the fried treats filled with chocolate, strawberry, vanilla, caramel or cajeta, a traditional Mexican caramel made with sweetened goat milk.

Similar community spaces reflect the vibrancy of Latino culture across the Bay Area, where Latino and Hispanic people have lived since the days of Alta California in the late 1700s and early 1800s. Today, more than 1.3 million Latinos — about 19 percent of the region’s population — call the Bay Area home, according to the 2020 U.S. Census.

That heritage resonates in every city. In San Jose, for example, the Mexican Heritage Plaza — Centro Cultural de San José — is a community hub and gathering place that celebrates Chicano history, art and culture. Latino restaurants, food trucks and eateries dot San Francisco’s Mission District, Richmond’s 23rd Street and Concord, which has so many taquerias — nearly 40 — the city declared its own Taco Trail.

And then there’s Oakland’s Fruitvale, a predominantly Latino district where the Chicano Movement blossomed in the 1960s and ’70s, and Latin American culture still thrives today. And the public market at 3341 E. 12th St. is not just a place to shop, it’s a destination.

For the last decade, Carlos Castillo and Erma Ramirez have made the trek from Concord to the market as often as they can, driving up to an hour or catching a BART train each way. Their order each time? A churro and a cup of tejuino, a traditional Mexican drink made of fermented corn, lime and spices and served cold.

The zesty sweet beverage can be found throughout the Bay Area, but no one does it like Nieves Cinco de Mayo, Castillo says.

“I can go anywhere around here for tacos, but no one does tejuino like here,” he says. “It’s like going to Mexico without crossing the border.”

Luis Abundis, who owns Nieves Cinco de Mayo with his wife, Elizabeth, grew up drinking tejuino as a child in Mexico, but it wasn’t until he began operating his ice cream business in Oakland that he perfected the recipe. He sold it from an ice cream truck he operated in the 1980s, out of a now-shuttered pizza shop in the ‘90s and roadside for another decade before finding a permanent home in the Fruitvale Public Market in 2007.

Customers can order the vegan-friendly drink straight up or served over a scoop of ice cream. Abundis makes dozens of flavors, everything from guava to rose petals, corn, coconut and burnt milk. And if you’re craving an ice cream sundae, dessert waffle or raspados — shaved ice — this is the place.

“Every business has something different, something special,” Abundis says. “People can come and try a flavor of Mexico.”

Abundis is tight lipped about the secret ingredients that make his take on tejuino so special. But his daughter, Emily Abundis, says the recipe has been passed down from generation to generation for thousands of years, starting with the Wixárika people of Nayarit, a state along Mexico’s western coast.

“You appreciate it more when you know how old the recipe is,” Emily Abundis says.

The word tejuino comes from the Wixárika’s word for “heartbeat,” tecuin, she notes.

For Emily Abundis, the Fruitvale Public Market has been the heartbeat of her life. She’s spent much of her 24 years here, running around with her two older sisters and working the shop with her parents. Now, she watches as her four-year-old son has his turn at experiencing the community each merchant has helped build.

“This has been my favorite place. It reminds me of Mexico,” she says. “I never get bored here. I love the community, and everyone is really kind.”

The essence of the community’s commitment to each other is possibly most proudly expressed during the annual Day of the Dead, or Dia de los Muertos, celebration, when it’s believed the spirits of those who have passed briefly return to Earth.

The free Fruitvale festival, hosted by the Unity Council with support from dozens of sponsors, is one of the largest in the Bay Area, featuring live music, dancing, food, arts and crafts, rides, games and Aztec rituals. Tens of thousands have attended the festival each year for nearly three decades.

The Mexican holiday, celebrated over a series of days in early November, is known for its decorations, the brightly colored skulls, a plethora of marigolds and altars or ofrendas decorated with photos of dead loved ones with their favorite foods and drinks.

Outside the Fruitvale Public Market during the celebration, you’ll find Oakland’s own ofrenda dedicated to the city’s homicide victims each year. Dozens of names are honored on small wooden crosses and presented to passersby to spread awareness as well as express support for a community in pain.

The ultimate dream, the Abundis say, is to not need the altar.

“We keep doing it, even though it’s sad,” says Luis, who grew emotional thinking of the friends he’s lost to gun violence. “We do it to let people know how many people have been shot or killed.”