If you’re familiar with the area near NW 16th Street and Drexel Boulevard, you’ve probably seen the little Guatemalan grocery store, Tienda Guatelinda, that’s been tucked in there for two decades. Púchica Muchá Que Rico shares some DNA with the store. Its co-owner, Andy de León, is the son of Pia de León, the longtime proprietor of the little grocery store.
“I grew up watching my mom take care of the store, take care of us,” Andy de León said. “I saw her struggle so much but always keep on fighting and surviving.”
Andy and his wife, Suly Molina, opened their small, homey restaurant in 2024. Púchica has been open for about eight months, but it’s a lifetime in the making.
Walking in, I felt immediately welcome, thanks to greetings from the staff and warm smiles from the other guests. The soundtrack was old-school hip hop, with the occasional marimba track thrown in for good measure.
I awaited my meal while Andy told me a little more about the journey that led them to open the restaurant.
“I’m a local kid —Taft, Classen — I grew up here,” Andy de León said. “But my wife, she’s so far from her home, and she has such a big dream. She’s so good at this and so serious about it. Growing up watching my mom, I’ve always known that betting on a talented, determined woman is the smart call.”
Andy is self-deprecating and funny, giving all the credit to his wife, Suly, but his larger-than-life personality is definitely part of the secret sauce.
Behind a shy smile, Molina is busy. She and one other person are juggling several orders in the small but mighty kitchen. Her surname, Molina, is an occupational one referring to a person who operates a mill. In her hometown of Santa Cruz Barillas, her family did operate the local mill. That detail became meaningful when I learned she doesn’t just make her corn tortillas from scratch daily — she literally grinds maize on-site. Watching her grind the maize, I realized this scrappy spot shares this rare trait with one of the city’s most esteemed restaurants: Nonesuch.
In addition, Púchica makes all its chorizo or longaniza in-house. It’s not uncommon to come in and see Suly carefully finishing a rope of sausage, and customers can really tell the difference. This kind of commitment to the craft sets this little restaurant apart. It is easy to imagine a line out the door once word gets out about the artisanal nature of the tortillas, chorizo and longaniza.
Home cooking
Púchica is a popular spot for the city’s thriving Guatemalan population, especially on Sundays.
“It’s comfort food, home cooking, but you don’t have to cook for yourself,” Andy de León said.
In these dishes, you won’t see the Instagram-ready presentation of Cafe Kacao, but that’s not really the point. Your Guatemalan grandma wouldn’t chiffonade the cilantro, nor would Púchica.
But it is definitely a step up from home cooking, not least of all because most home cooks aren’t literally grinding their own maize for their handmade tortillas. Oklahoma City loves Guatemalan food, as evidenced by three-hour wait times at Cafe Kacao during weekend brunch and the steady, yet constant flow of people moving through Café Antigua seven days a week. Asking folks to take that predilection in the homestyle direction may not seem like much of a stretch, but Andy tells me his clientele is still mostly Latinx. He expects that to shift somewhat as people try the food. I wholeheartedly agree.
When I looked up the menu online, it seemed like the options were fairly limited, but I eventually figured out there’s a lot more variety than I thought. Because the local foodies haven’t arrived en masse, the menu and food pics are still pretty scarce. I saw the same slate of daily specials and mistook it for the full offering. In reality, the rotating daily specials nearly double the size and variety of the menu from day to day.
As is my custom, I asked Andy and Suly to decide what I should have, and they ended up making me a bit of a sampler platter. My custom-made sampler included pepian de pollo, an enchilada Guatemalteca, and sides of ensalada rusa and rice. I also had a passion fruit aguas frescas and a horchata chapina.
I loved my meal, due in large part to how surprising I found it. I’ve eaten a lot of Guatemalan food in my life, but mostly from the same two local places. This meal really caught me off guard. It was so good!

Flavors abound
I started with the Guatemalan enchilada. I’ve had a thousand enchiladas, so I assumed I knew what I was getting into. Imagine my surprise when what came out was essentially a large beet salad with a little shredded beef and cotija. It’s served on a crisp tostada, but you have to work to find that under the absolute heap of beets. It was delicious, but if you’re expecting something cheesy, beany or sour creamy or if you’re not into beets, you might be deeply confused.
The pepian de pollois a delicious mole with chicken, green beans, carrots and potatoes. As mole is wont to be, it’s layered with many different spices. It wasn’t spicy per se, but it had enough spice to give it that warm tang. The chicken, served as full drumsticks, would have been delicious on its own, but it was made even better by the mole.
The ensalada rusa looks like a little potato salad, but it’s an important component. The fatty creaminess cuts through the spice of the mole, balancing the flavors and textures perfectly. And obviously, the handmade tortillas are an absolute standout. They’re thick enough to sop up all the mole your little heart desires.
And it’s all great, but the unexpected standout is the rice. You know when a minor character becomes the absolute breakout star? That’s the rice. Well, rather, it’s the sofrito, the flavorful, aromatic base that gives the rice its hutzpah. Even after I had my fill of the beautiful meal, I kept going for one more little bite of rice, just to get one more hit of that sofrito. At Andy’s insistence, I took a horchata chapina to go.
Before I left, I remembered to ask what the restaurant’s name means.
Andy smiled and said, “Damn it, man! That’s delicious!”
After absorbing all that old-school hip hop, I only had one thing to say. “Word.”
Visit @puchicamuchaquerico on Instagram.
This article appears in Summer Guide 2025.

