Nopales, the iconic pads of the prickly pear cactus, feature prominently in Sonoran cuisine and are prepared and enjoyed in a number of ways, including raw; blended into smoothies; boiled and chopped and added to soups, stews, or salads; or grilled whole and served like a vegetarian steak. The spines must be carefully removed, and they emit a liquid similar to okra, but a little practice turns this desert plant into an incredibly versatile and nourishing ingredient. And then there are tepary beans; similar in shape to crowder peas in white, brown, or speckled colors, they are rich and creamy. The lighter color is similar in flavor to navy beans while the darker ones have an earthy taste closer to lentils. White Sonoran wheat—derived from an ancient grain as old as 6,500 BCE and brought to the region by Spanish colonizers—is also primed for desert landscapes. It’s the key ingredient in the development of the region’s unique wheat tortillas, distinct from more typical flour or corn tortillas in their mildly nutty flavor and the way they crisp up when heated on a griddle.

Tucson is cattle country, so you’ll also encounter beef in various forms such as stewed into birria, as well as carne seca (also called carne machaca) or dried meat. This style of beef is dried using a variety of methods, then reconstituted before it’s added to dishes. But pork, particularly smoked pork in the form of bacon or twice-cooked carnitas, abound, a nod to Spanish colonial history, as well as a flavor profile that melds perfectly with the copious ingredients sourced from native plants.

I encounter these vibrant, intense flavors everywhere. Mexican food is predictably the most prevalent cuisine represented, though with Sonoran touches. Local favorite El Torero makes crisps: huge wheat tortillas toasted, then topped with green chiles, carne seca, cheese, salsa, and guacamole, like a Mexican pizza. At El Güero Canelo Restaurant or the food truck Ruiz Hot Dogs Los Chipilones, you’ll find the iconic Sonoran hot dog: a bacon-wrapped dog topped with beans, chopped green chile, cheese, and crema and served with a whole roasted chile on the side. At Amelia’s Mexican Kitchen, the region’s signature molcajete—a dish of meat or seafood cooked inside a large stone mortar typically used for making salsas and grinding spices—is served alongside mini chimichangas, which were possibly invented in Tucson at one of the oldest family-run Mexican restaurants in the country, El Charro Café. Among some of the most popular non-Mexican restaurants, Italian restaurant Zio Peppe makes calamarrones—fried calamari combined with chicharrones served over salsa macha with preserved orange. And in the summer Tito & Pep serves a hamachi aguachile with mesquite-smoked cantaloupe.

Tucson’s Garden Oasis

But perhaps the most beloved and fitting representation of the regional palate is the vegetarian restaurant Tumerico. Topping Yelp’s list of best restaurants in the nation in 2024, it springs from the soul of a Sonoran native. Chef Wendy Garcia grew up on the other side of the border wall in the Mexican state of Sonora. She’s the oldest of four children and was raised in an eating family. Her father was the family’s head chef, and he often prepared as many as five meals a day simply because he loved to cook. Or perhaps because both he and his wife were one of more than 10 children in their own families, struggling with poverty and having enough food. The meals of childhood were Sonoran staples: eggs and carne seca for breakfast (one of Garcia’s jobs was swatting flies away from slabs of meat as they dried in the sun), little meatballs made of chicken, beef, or venison (that her father would hunt); fried taquitos; and rice and beans, all served with plenty of fresh salsas or guacamole. She learned to make all of these dishes as a child. “My dad cooked. I’m the oldest, so I was his assistant. But I hated it,” she recalls. For her it was just work, and she would rather have been playing. When Garcia was 16, her father, Carlos, died. They were extremely close, and Garcia struggled to cope. Her mom sent her to Tucson to find her way, which she did—straight into the kitchen. She worked on the line for a number of years and, like many chefs, reached a point of burnout. She struggled with her health, which led her to develop an Ashtanga yoga practice and adopt a plant-based diet. Pulled back to cooking, she started making vegan tamales stuffed with her now signature jackfruit carnitas and selling them at farmers markets in Tucson. Those tamales became so popular that she decided to open Tumerico in 2016 as a love letter to the Sonoran flavors and homestyle dishes she grew up with, but with an intentional emphasis on soul-nourishing dishes with clean flavors that accentuate the quality of the locally sourced native ingredients at the center of her culinary approach.