Eating Our Way Through CDMX
Welcome to my random musings about the world, on a weekly-to-occasional basis.
Where we are: We’re in Mexico City, which is a do-over for us—a 2020 plan that fell apart when the pandemic turned the world upside down. I’ve been sad about it ever since. Lee finally got tired of hearing me moan about tacos, so here we are. To everyone who has sent us recommendations for our time here—thank you! When we leave, we’re going to Oaxaca, so pass along your faves there, too!
Eating Our Way Through CDMX
In April of 2020, we had an apartment booked in Mexico City for a month, across the street from the best bakery in the city (yes, that’s how we choose apartments). This time we’re only staying for two weeks, but I’m already sad that it’s not longer. I love Mexico City.
Mostly, I love the food. Food is how I categorize destinations. Did we love the food? Yes? Let’s go back. Mexican food is one of the world cuisines that is best enjoyed in situ (in my very snobby opinion—I realize this life has spoiled me. Aside: we once ate Thai food in Berlin, because we were craving it, and were bitterly disappointed. Some foods just don’t travel well. That doesn’t, however, stop me from eating tacos all over the world, because sometimes you just need a taco, but that just means: when I say tacos are best eaten in Mexico, I know what I’m talking about.)
I can’t remember how many countries we’ve been to in the last seven years, but I can tell you every restaurant we’ve been to that was on a list. There are many lists. I chase them all. (Okay, not Michelin. I generally find Michelin restaurants too stuffy.)
My favorites are mostly the places that have featured on Chef’s Table. That’s not technically a list, but we’ve eaten the food of many of those chefs, and it’s pretty much always outstanding. Sometimes it’s a fancy high-end restaurant experience, sometimes it’s a slice of Milk Bar’s crack pie eaten on a park bench, but it’s always interesting. [And there was that one time my beloved dining partners at White Rabbit convinced me to start with a shot of Russian vodka, because it was my birthday and when in Russia and all, and that meal is just a blur. You know who you are.]
I really enjoy the World’s 50 Best lists, too. Pro tip: if you are a traveler, and you don’t know this list, you should. Pro pro tip: there are break-out lists for Asia, MENA (Middle East/North Africa), and Latin America. The ones in that last group are a serious bargain compared to high-end American or European restaurants.
When we were in South and Central America the year before the pandemic, we spent the whole nine months eating our way through that list. We’d land in a city, check the list, and make a reservation in every place that served lunch (for those of you who don’t know, we don’t eat dinner—another story for another day). Santiago, Buenos Aires, Lima—we ate so very well that year.
The Eater website is another one of our favorite lists/sources. We had an Eater-recommended meal in Mumbai that was one of the best of my life. It was a little hole-in-the-wall Keralan place with a mildly insane owner who couldn’t stop talking to us, but I’ll never forget the food. Serious food writers say you should avoid the word revelatory, but I can’t help myself: it was revelatory. Literally finger-likkin’ good, since there was no cutlery.
And that meal in Mumbai is really the best example of what I love: a meal that is an interesting, delicious experience.
Now, by way of contrast, I will tell you that we also ate at a famous, fancy hotel in Mumbai, and our meal there was a sad shadow of the vibrant, flavorful food we found all over the country. The service was impeccable, the room was beautiful, but the flavors didn’t live up to the standard India had set for us. Perhaps it would’ve been great if it had been our first (or only) meal in India, but it was at the very end of our two months there, and it suffered from the comparison.
Fame is not everything—history, longevity, success, status on the lists—none of those things matter to me if the food isn’t delicious, or at the very least, interesting.
Which brings us back around to Mexico City. We arrived last Wednesday, and had the top two restaurants in the city (at least according to The Lists) booked for Thursday and Friday. On Thursday we ate at Quintonil, which is the number nine restaurant in the world. We ordered a reasonably sized meal from the a la carte menu and loved every bite. The food was just challenging enough (a tomato-avocado salad infused with smoke and dusted with ground grasshoppers—this mostly-vegetarian ate it and declared it delicious), but also familiar and comforting (a coral-colored panna cotta made with mamey fruit). You can’t go wrong with perfectly ripe tomatoes, bursting with sharp, sweet flavor, and creamy soft avocados. Simple, complex, and amazing.
The next day we ate at Pujol, the number five restaurant in the world, which was a long tasting menu. It took four hours. There were some courses I loved—a fresh, crunchy hearts of palm salad, and the plate with two moles (one freshly made, one a ‘madre’ that has been in process for more than eight years). But for the most part, the meal was too long, too many courses, too much food and information. It was a little too fussy for us. I have trouble taking lunch so seriously.
Also, they told us we could keep our napkins, for a souvenir. The napkins were nice, but when lunch comes with a souvenir, it has jumped the shark. These five extra pounds around my middle are souvenir enough, thank you very much. Plus, lunch shouldn’t cause you to get stuck in evening rush hour traffic.
That’s the thing about lists: if they work for you, great. And I am in no way trying to dissuade anyone from going to Pujol—it was an undeniably perfect and delicious meal. It was just a little too much for me. Some people love the Michelin-style experience, and that’s awesome. Someone needs to keep those places in business, because I think they raise the standards of the restaurant industry as a whole. Quintonil probably wouldn’t be as amazing if they weren’t eyeing Pujol, four slots up the list.
The taco guy on the corner has paper napkins, still in the packet, but his tacos are amazing too. That’s the beauty of a place like Mexico City—whatever your preference, you can find it here.
As for me? I’ll be chasing down the esquites guy in front of the grocery store.
Take care,
Lisa
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