Ricardo Cortes and Alex Rodriguez Photo by Lois Tema

At the top of the show, Eric, a TV writer, is packing up his LA apartment, preparing to take a big career risk by moving to Seattle to move in with his boyfriend of 2.5 years. Oddly enough, the boyfriend lives in a one-bedroom apartment, which should have been a red flag for Eric, for no sooner does he finish packing up his books when he is broken up with via a text message. Ouch. Thrown into a maelstrom of heartache and self-recrimination, Eric decides to take a spur of the moment trip to Mexico City, much to the dismay of his mother (Marcia Aguilar). She has googled "handsome gay killings Mexico City" and is worried her boy will be beheaded by the drug cartels.

Eric doesn't have any specific plans for his getaway, other than to revel in the city's food scene and maybe hook up with an expat or two while he's there. Instead, while visiting a museum, Eric meets cute–or, more precisely, meets clumsy–with Mauricio (Ricardo Cortes), a local architect who invites him home for a quick tryst and a bowl of pozole, a traditional Mexican stew with endless variations. Despite being half Mexican (and half Chinese), Eric speaks very little Spanish, and even has trouble pronouncing the names of some local landmarks, especially Tenochtitlan, the ancient Aztec pyramid at the center of Mexico City. Hoping to educate Eric on his roots, Mauricio offers to guide Eric to the site and introduce him to Aztec culture.

There's just one problem–Mauricio stands him up, leaving Eric feeling even more abandoned. But not to worry, for Eric is visited by three specters, all ancestors who represent his heritage: an ancient Aztec warrior, Tupoc (also Cortes), dressed in a loincloth and feathered regalia; Aurora (also Aguilar), a deceased great aunt; and Chino (Edric Young), a Chinese man brought to Mexico as a slave. Together this trio helps Eric to embrace his multi-racial culture and accept himself for exactly who he is, with no apologies. As Chino says, "Once you claim it, what will they have to hurt you with?"

Every member of director Evren Odcikin's cast does marvelous, heartfelt work here, especially Ricardo Cortes, who brings a charming diffidence to his portrayal of Mauricio, and then glams up his take on an Aztec warrior who stood proud even in a culture where homosexuality was punishable by death.

Simple Mexican Pleasures is the sort of play that sneaks up on you. You think you are in an ordinary story of losing love and searching for it again, and then–bit by bit–Loo's text takes you deeper and deeper into one man's psyche, peeling away layers of wounds and years of heartbreak, some of it self-inflicted. Chino seems to be the wisest of the bunch, reminding Eric to take the time to appreciate simple pleasures, Mexican or otherwise. When he brings Eric a torta (a Mexican sandwich) and Eric, foodie that he is, begins to intellectually deconstruct it, Chino tells him "a torta doesn't want to be analyzed, it just wants to be eaten." Great Aunt Aurora helps Eric to understand familial love on a deeper level, and in a glorious, flashy, near-finale, Tupoc encourages Eric to embrace his sexuality and creativity without constantly judging himself. What begins as a rather pedestrian boy-loses-boy story, ultimately opens up–like a flower in the sun–into an exploration of one man's tender, bruised, but ultimately resilient heart.

Simple Mexican Pleasures runs through May 11, 2025, at New Conservatory Theatre Center, Walker Theatre, 25 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco CA. Performances are Wednesdays and Thursdays at 7:30pm, Fridays and Saturdays at 8:00pm and Sundays at 2:00pm. Tickets are $25-$72.50. For tickets and information, please visit NCTCSF.org or call 415-861-8972.