Mexico City

Tacos Manolo: Singular Sensation

Like many of Mexico’s best taquerías, Tacos Manolo greets its patrons from a block away with its alluring smell. But it isn’t the well-known odor of fired achiote on a swirling spit of al pastor or the equally recognizable heavy scent of bistek searing on a griddle. No, the aroma wafting down this particular block of Calle Luz Saviñon is a mystery to the uninitiated – a unique, unplaceable perfume that allures as much as it confuses. It is the smell of onions and unknown meats and mystery sauces bubbling together, fusing into something greater and more delicious than the sum of its parts. It is the smell of the eponymous Taco Manolo, a one-of-a-kind dish that has brought the restaurant fame and accolades.

Mexico City

Legión Americana: From the Grills of Montezuma

For the most part, hamburgers in Mexico City disappoint. The accepted bread-to-beef ratio is shameful, with slender slices of overcooked meat hiding somewhere within the pillowy fluff of too much bread. The stringy, flavorless beef underwhelms. Even worse are the fancy sandwiches one finds at upscale burger joints, where blue cheese and spinach and a dozen other inappropriate ingredients only momentarily distract from the aforementioned defects of bad meat and a surfeit of bread. Against this dim backdrop of underachievement, the hamburgers at the Legión Americana shine like stars. This is something of a surprise considering the no-frills, dive bar atmosphere here.

Mexico City

La Gaspacheria: Souper Fruit Salad

On sunny afternoons in the sleepy neighborhood of Narvarte, crowds of adults huddle around the glass counter at La Gaspacheria, eyes aglow as they consider possible toppings. While the scene evokes children at an ice cream parlor, the ingredients before them strike the uninitiated as a strange mix. Jicama. Hot sauce. Onion. Cheese. Orange juice. Even among chilangos, who famously love to cram their favorite ingredients together in ever stranger combinations (tortas de chilaquiles and tortas de tamales, for example), the idea of mixing orange juice, mango and raw onion gives pause.

Mexico City

El Moro: Churros Oasis

Nowhere in Mexico City does one feel the collective weight of the largest population in North America more than on Avenida Lazaro Cardenas, the traffic artery that gushes a surfeit of humans and cars up the heart of the city’s downtown. The gutters stink of rotting fruit. Dirt and littered garbage encrust the sidewalks. And, at rush hour, walking a block means suffering a gauntlet of elbows and hands pushing at you and past you. For the most part, the businesses that line this street offer little comfort. Goods lie in heaps on carpets or hang two feet deep upon the walls of stores seemingly designed to be fire hazards, cramming too many people onto too little floor space.

Mexico City

Tacos Beto: Deep Dive

Tacos Beto is not a pretty place. Stacks of soda bottles, enough for weeks to come, serve as a wall that shields customers from the wind blowing down Avenida Dr. José María Vertiz. The plastic tables and plastic stools that surround the bottles seem older than the invention of plastic. A long, dusty awning hanging above the sidewalk seating advertises a brand of soda that Tacos Beto no longer carries, maybe never carried. The only visible beauty encountered at the restaurant sits on the arched wall above the steel fryer, or comal bola – orange and blue paint spell out the words “Tacos Beto – los de cochinada” (“Tacos Beto – the garbage ones”).

Mexico City

Best Bites 2017: Mexico City

Hit by a devastating earthquake in September, Mexico City has certainly faced some challenges this past year. But life in the city marches on, and adventurous foodies can still find a great meal simply by following their nose. Our DF correspondents did just that in 2017, rediscovering some old favorites and branching out into unchartered territory. Mercado Jamaica By far my favorite food experience of this year was exploring Jamaica Market. Mostly known for its wholesale flower section, this large market offers much more: fresh produce, colorful piñatas, and incredible food. In fact, it is home to three of my favorite food stands in the city.

Mexico City

Angelopolitano: Family-Approved Mole

A sweet warmth lies just below the surface of Condesa’s über-cool Angelopolitano. Walking through the front door, we were first struck by the restaurant’s elegant decor, which exists somewhere between hipster chic and business casual. Potted plants sitting beneath framed 19th-century photographs make the space feel more like an art gallery than a place to eat. Such an environment would be off-putting if it weren’t for the staff, who flashed big smiles as we entered and spoke to each other in a familial, teasing tone you’d more expect to hear at a friend’s dinner party than an upscale restaurant.

Mexico City

El Pialadero de Guadalajara: Hot Mess

At 2pm on most weekdays, slickly dressed business people stroll Mexico City’s trendy Juarez neighborhood, lending its streets an air of well-heeled, buttoned-up formality. The polished glimmer of their shoes marks them as the nation’s best and brightest, if not among its wealthiest. These are the white collar workers of the nearby Paseo de la Reforma, let out of their office towers for lunch. Many will choose to spend their breaks cradling greasy street tacos, craning their necks as they eat, careful not to stain or otherwise tarnish their smart suits.

Mexico City

Central de Cacao: Chocolate City

Entering Central de Cacao, one might think it any other café in the hip neighborhood of Roma Sur. Sitting upon stools, customers hunch over their laptops, sipping from steaming mugs. A wide, beautiful geometric design hangs on the high wall behind the counter. To the left of the entryway, colorful products for sale line a stack of long shelves. But upon closer inspection, the sweet nature of the cafe and store reveals itself. The contents of the steaming mug: chocolate. The geometric design behind the counter: molinillos, or traditional Oaxacan chocolate whisks. The products on the shelves: all chocolate. Chocolate-infused honey. 100 percent chocolate bars.

Mexico City

La Gaspacheria: Souper Fruit Salad

On sunny afternoons in the sleepy neighborhood of Narvarte, crowds of adults huddle around the glass counter at La Gaspacheria, eyes aglow as they consider possible toppings. While the scene evokes children at an ice cream parlor, the ingredients before them strike the uninitiated as a strange mix. Jicama. Hot sauce. Onion. Cheese. Orange juice. Even among chilangos, who famously love to cram their favorite ingredients together in ever stranger combinations (tortas de chilaquiles and tortas de tamales, for example), the idea of mixing orange juice, mango and raw onion gives pause.

Mexico City

El Moro: Churros Oasis

Nowhere in Mexico City does one feel the collective weight of the largest population in North America more than on Avenida Lazaro Cardenas, the traffic artery that gushes a surfeit of humans and cars up the heart of the city’s downtown. The gutters stink of rotting fruit. Dirt and littered garbage encrust the sidewalks. And, at rush hour, walking a block means suffering a gauntlet of elbows and hands pushing at you and past you. For the most part, the businesses that line this street offer little comfort. Goods lie in heaps on carpets or hang two feet deep upon the walls of stores seemingly designed to be fire hazards, cramming too many people onto too little floor space.

Mexico City

Legión Americana: From the Grills of Montezuma

For the most part, hamburgers in Mexico City disappoint. The accepted bread-to-beef ratio is shameful, with slender slices of overcooked meat hiding somewhere within the pillowy fluff of too much bread. The stringy, flavorless beef underwhelms. Even worse are the fancy sandwiches one finds at upscale burger joints, where blue cheese and spinach and a dozen other inappropriate ingredients only momentarily distract from the aforementioned defects of bad meat and a surfeit of bread. Against this dim backdrop of underachievement, the hamburgers at the Legión Americana shine like stars. This is something of a surprise considering the no-frills, dive bar atmosphere here.

Mexico City

La Secina: Beef & Blues

One feels cooler simply for patronizing La Secina. The architecture of the restaurant seems to evoke a perpetual party vibe. At dinner, individual lights dangle on long lines amid a mesh of vines that gives the cavernous space a homey, DIY feel. The teal and orange on the wall are bright and clean. The stenciled restaurant logo and exhortations of “bienvenidos” feel as organic as they do well designed. Downstairs, picnic tables radiate outwards from a long, inviting bar. Upstairs a dedicated booze closet services a patio that looks out upon a beautiful church across the street. And on weekends, live blues bands play everything from Albert Collins to Muddy Waters to Robert Johnson.

Mexico City

Tacos Manolo: Singular Sensation

Like many of Mexico’s best taquerías, Tacos Manolo greets its patrons from a block away with its alluring smell. But it isn’t the well-known odor of fired achiote on a swirling spit of al pastor or the equally recognizable heavy scent of bistek searing on a griddle. No, the aroma wafting down this particular block of Calle Luz Saviñon is a mystery to the uninitiated – a unique, unplaceable perfume that allures as much as it confuses. It is the smell of onions and unknown meats and mystery sauces bubbling together, fusing into something greater and more delicious than the sum of its parts. It is the smell of the eponymous Taco Manolo, a one-of-a-kind dish that has brought the restaurant fame and accolades.

Mexico City

Tacos Beto: Deep Dive

Tacos Beto is not a pretty place. Stacks of soda bottles, enough for weeks to come, serve as a wall that shields customers from the wind blowing down Avenida Dr. José María Vertiz. The plastic tables and plastic stools that surround the bottles seem older than the invention of plastic. A long, dusty awning hanging above the sidewalk seating advertises a brand of soda that Tacos Beto no longer carries, maybe never carried. The only visible beauty encountered at the restaurant sits on the arched wall above the steel fryer, or comal bola – orange and blue paint spell out the words “Tacos Beto – los de cochinada” (“Tacos Beto – the garbage ones”).

Mexico City

Restaurante Lety: Fungus on the Mountain

For the most part, Mexico City pampers its citizens with year-round warm, sunny weather, give or take the occasional downpour in the rainy season. And like any spoiled child, chilangos have grown so accustomed to living in such a temperate clime that any slight deviation registers as almost unbearable. At 19 degrees C, pedestrians cloak themselves in winter coats and hurry down the sidewalk, worrying that they will freeze to death on the two-block walk from their parked car to their front door. It’s rumored that chilangos are so unused to seeing their own breath in the cold that they mistake it for their souls escaping their bodies, augmenting their hatred of frigid weather.

Mexico City

La Esquina del Chilaquil: Hangover Helper

On a Sunday morning in Mexico City’s Condesa neighborhood, the few people on the street mostly jog or bike or power walk. Trainers adorn their feet, spandex hugs their thighs, dogs tug their leashes. These paragons of fitness select exercise to combat their hangovers, a choice that reflects the aspirational character of the upper-middle-class neighborhood. Many of the restaurants and cafes in the neighborhood encourage these health-centric lifestyles, as “natural this” and “green that” and “vegan blah blah blah” stores appear on every block. But like a chocolate chip cookie infiltrating a salad, the puesto on the corner of Alfonso Reyes and Tamaulipas stands in open defiance of the neighborhood’s pursuit of physical wellness, opting instead to pursue hedonistic aims.