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In Puerto Vallarta’s Cinco de Diciembre neighborhood, Bicho Marisquería serves some of the most surprising flavors in town.
Fish tacos, for example—the filets dipped in a tangy sourdough batter, fried golden and crispy.
House-made tortillas in a rainbow of flavors like bright-pink beetroot, bright-yellow banana-turmeric, deep-green seaweed, or golden-brown cacao-cinnamon, all blended with oregano and black sesame.
Top your tacos with a salsa mulata that combines cola de rata or chile de árbol peppers with salty chapulines molidos. That’s right: dried, ground crickets. It’s exquisite.
This was my first of many meals at Bicho. My husband and I had just moved to Cinco, our fridge was still empty, and our stomachs were growling, so we decided to walk out the front door, pick a direction, and place our culinary fates in the universe’s hands. The universe led us to a modest-looking seafood stand at the corner of Colombia and Argentina, where a woman greeted us with a warm “Buenas tardes” and invited us to sit.
As we took our seats, she introduced herself: Delia Flores, a Pata Salada, or Puerto Vallarta native, who grew up just a few houses from this corner. We could tell her roots in the neighborhood ran deep; she seemed to know everyone who walked by.
“This is la esquina que domina,” she joked, “The corner that dominates in Cinco de Diciembre.”
Delia owns Bicho with her son Mario—a professional chef and the creator of the innovative menu.
A few weeks later, we heard the story of Bicho from Mario himself. As the fryer sizzled and tortillas puffed on the plancha, Mario explained that, for him, Bicho isn’t just a seafood stand. It’s where, after a decade as a successful professional chef followed by a period of depression, Mario reconnected with his love of cooking.
“My dad was from El Salvador, and he used to call me ‘bicho,’ which is El Salvadoran slang for ‘kid,’” Mario said, handing me a tostada de aguachile: shrimp cured in a smoky black chile sauce that balanced citrusy brightness with spicy, savory depth. He nudged me to top my tostada with a tangy garnish of hibiscus flowers and smoked cabbage called curtido.
“When I created Bicho, I was also caring for my inner child.”
From Executive Chef to Burnout
Mario built an admirable career in Puerto Vallarta’s high-end restaurant and hotel scene, eventually opening two of his own restaurants. Both thrived, but something was off.
“My businesses made good money, but I felt really sad,” Mario recalled. “I didn’t want to cook or do anything.”
The solution? Take a break. “I walked away from both restaurants,” he explained. “But that cleared the way for something new.”
Mantenlo Costa: A New Focus
Eventually, the darkness lifted and Mario’s motivation returned. When he took over the taco stand that is now Bicho, he first studied the neighborhood’s food offerings. He saw plenty of stands serving birria, asada, and pastor, but none selling seafood—surprising given Vallarta’s coastal location. Then a friend gave some advice that snapped everything into focus.
“My friend told me, ‘Mantenlo costa,’ which means ‘keep it coast,’” Mario explained. “I knew we had to do seafood, and we had to do it like no one else.”
As if to drive the point home, Mario served me a plate of empanadas stuffed with smoked marlin, mozzarella, basil, and cilantro, all wrapped in a banana-turmeric tortilla and deep-fried for a match made in sweet, spicy, ooey-gooey umami heaven.
What’s Next for Bicho
Bicho has kept it coast since 2022, delighting diners with tacos, tostadas, and empanadas of fish, shrimp, oysters, and calamari. Mario plans to expand to a brick-and-mortar location where he can offer an elevated menu and higher-end experience. He even hopes to snag a Michelin star one day—a lofty but not unrealistic ambition, now that Jalisco restaurants have entered the Michelin Guide.
Mario also partnered with his mother, Delia, wanting to know her not just as his mother, but as an adult.
“Sometimes we disagree about the right way to do things,” Delia laughed. “But I’ve learned to back off and trust him.”
For Mario, working alongside his mother is one more way to care for Bicho—both the seafood stand and the kid he once was.
“She understands who I am now,” Mario said. “I am Bicho, and Bicho is me.”
Visit Bicho Marisquería
Bicho Marisquería is located in Vallarta’s Cinco de Diciembre neighborhood on the corner of Calles Colombia and Argentina, one block east of Parroquia Nuestra Señora del Refugio. They are open Monday through Saturday, from 11:30 a.m. to 5 p.m.
Instagram: @bicho_marisqueria
Facebook: Bicho Marisqueria
PHOTOS CREDIT: Alan Bader
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