Apapaxoa 2026: When Cooking Becomes a Way of Thinking

At Apapaxoa Festival GastroCultural Xcaret 2026, cooking was not presented as a static discipline, but as a territory in constant motion.

Throughout the festival’s talks and stories, chefs, creators, producers, and specialists shared very different ways of understanding gastronomy: as research, as memory, as interpretation, as a dialogue with nature, and, above all, as a way of relating to the world.

In some conversations, technique was the starting point. In others, the ingredient, territory, or culture took center stage. But behind all of them was the same concern: how to keep creating without losing sight of what gives cooking its meaning.

Innovation Also Means Knowing Where We Come From

For Paco Méndez and Diego Guerrero, talking about the avant-garde means talking about tradition first. Not as something that must remain untouched, but as knowledge built over time that can evolve and open new paths.

From this perspective, innovation requires curiosity, research, and documentation. It also means accepting that there is no single way to create: taste is subjective, and a dish can be technically well executed even if it does not appeal to everyone.

For those beginning their journey in gastronomy, both chefs shared an especially relevant idea: finding good references is important, but developing your own voice matters even more.

And perhaps that is one of the keys to the avant-garde: not creating simply for the sake of doing something different, but finding new ways to express what we already know, what we observe, and what we still want to discover.

When Technique Seeks to Create an Emotion

In “Techniques of Enjoyment,” Oriol Castro took this pursuit into the realm of culinary research. Drawing from his experience at Disfrutar in Barcelona, the chef showed how technical experimentation can transform ingredients, textures, and the ways diners interact with food.

But technique is not the destination. For Castro, knowledge must serve something more essential: enjoyment. That is why the gastronomic experience also places the diner in the role of participant.

The avant-garde, then, is not only about asking what technique can do, but what it can make us feel.

And knowledge becomes even more valuable when it is shared. Learning from mistakes, researching, and passing on what we have learned are all part of the same creative chain that allows gastronomy to keep moving forward.

Cooking by Nature’s Clock

Coco Montes proposed another way of thinking about gastronomic evolution: paying closer attention to the cycles of ingredients.

At Pabú, the menu can change every day. The approach does not begin with a fixed menu, but with a much simpler—and at the same time more demanding—question: what is at its best today?

This philosophy turns cooking into a constant search. Technique does not attempt to impose itself on the ingredient; instead, it seeks the best way to bring it to its fullest expression.

The paradox is an interesting one: a kitchen that changes constantly must also recognize what remains. That is why guests returning to Pabú may find familiar elements while the rest of the menu continues to evolve.

Stability and change are not opposites. They can coexist within the same identity.

A Recipe Can Also Be a Score

In “Symphonic Cuisine: Composition and Gastronomy,” Martha Ortiz and Gabriela Ortiz brought the conversation into another language: music.

Martha Ortiz proposed a powerful analogy: a recipe and a musical score are both documents containing instructions, but neither fully exists until it is interpreted.

A score needs musicians. A recipe needs cooks. And both need to reach someone before they can ultimately become an experience.

From this perspective, a kitchen can function like an orchestra. Each ingredient has a role, and the cook conducts the relationships between them to express an idea.

But before a dish exists, there is an intention.

Creating begins by deciding what you want to say, what emotion you want to evoke, and which elements can lead you there. This is why gastronomy shares something deeper with music than structure alone: both can become ways of reaching what cannot always be explained with words.

The Territory Cooks, Too

In “Mestiza de Indias: A Complicity That Generates Territory,” Andoni Luis Aduriz took the conversation even further, toward the relationship between gastronomy, biodiversity, and identity.

His proposal begins with the encounter between cultures, ingredients, and stories that, over centuries, have shaped the gastronomy we now recognize as global.

In the Yucatán Peninsula, this perspective takes on a particular dimension. Biodiversity, agriculture, medicine, spirituality, and culture form part of the same system of knowledge.

From there comes a reflection on regeneration: rather than simply extracting from nature, we should seek ways to give back more than we take.

Recovering native varieties, observing how certain introduced species have adapted to the territory, and restoring knowledge connected to the land turn gastronomy into more than a cultural expression.

It can also become a tool for preserving what makes that culture possible in the first place.

An Identity Built Through Encounter

In the conversation between Sheyla Alvarado and Eugenio Romero, the cuisine of Baja California emerged as the result of another form of cultural blending.

The region’s culinary identity has been shaped by the encounter between different communities and cultural influences. Chinese, Japanese, Russian, Italian, and other culinary traditions found in Baja California a territory where they could meet and mingle with local ingredients.

Beer is also part of this story.

In Ensenada, its proximity to the United States, market dynamics, and discerning consumers contributed to the development of a craft beer culture that pays close attention to both process and raw materials.

During the presentation, a smoked marlin pâté tostada with fresh tuna, paired with a Perro del Mar Light beer, brought the conversation from concept to palate. The beer’s carbonation and aromatic profile demonstrated how a pairing can cleanse the palate and shift the perception of flavors.

When the Kitchen Meets the Screen

In “From Kitchen to Screen,” Lulú Martínez, Gill Bond, and Lisa Bruce shared the process behind the series Ingrediente México, exploring what happens when ingredients, cooks, producers, and territories leave the table to become an audiovisual story.

The project seeks to move away from superficial representations of Mexico and instead focus on the people who sustain its food systems: chefs, producers, and artisans whose stories help us understand where ingredients come from and what lies behind each preparation.

Sustainability and regenerative practices are part of that narrative, as are memory and transformation.

The screen thus becomes another way of approaching cooking: not simply by showing what we eat, but by telling the stories of those who make it possible.

Knowledge That Is Passed On

In “Maestros Selectos,” the conversation took another path: that of the crafts and the people who have devoted their lives to mastering them.

The talk brought three Mexican female mezcal makers and the knowledge behind the artisanal production of mezcal into the spotlight.

Beyond the drink itself, a story of territory, generational knowledge, and work emerged. So did a conversation about the obstacles many women have faced in developing and preserving these crafts within their communities.

Recognizing their work means recognizing that behind an artisanal product lies a combination of time, knowledge, raw materials, and decisions that are difficult to reproduce industrially.

Mezcal thus becomes a cultural expression that can be better understood by knowing the people who produce it and the communities from which it comes.

A Cuisine That Keeps Evolving

The conversations at Apapaxoa 2026 did not offer a single definition of what innovation in gastronomy means. And perhaps that is precisely the point.

For some, innovation means researching new techniques. For others, it means observing an ingredient until finding its exact moment. It can also mean reinterpreting a tradition, listening to the territory, recovering knowledge, finding a new language for telling a story, or sharing what has been learned.

Different paths that ultimately meet at the same point: cooking as a discipline that is never truly finished.