All in Mexico

El Lago de los Cisnes

El Lago de los Cisnes

Adam Goldberg
Mexico

After a long day on a fluorescent boat at Xochimilco, the vestigial canal system just south of Mexico City, we stopped by the famous "El Lago de los Cisnes" in Chapultepec for tacos. Tired and sunburned, we wanted something quick and satisfying. Mexico City, as it turns out, has the perfect solution: tacos al pastor. The restaurant seemed to combine the flavor of street food without the street; it was a comfortable sit-down place. Despite the pork rotisserie and roaring fire pit by the door, the ambience inside was quiet and tranquil full of tables able to accomodate large groups of people. Our waiter served as the mediator between the chaos and the calm.

El Charco de las Ranas

El Charco de las Ranas

Adam Goldberg
Mexico

Finding the best tacos al pastor in Mexico City is akin to finding the best baguette in Paris. There are so many places of exceptional quality; the differences come down to stylistic nuances in flavor and preparation. The best taco al pastor in Mexico City is the closest taquería nearby above a minimum quality threshold that's open late-night. Fortunately, the city is full of such restaurants. One of them is El Charco de las Ranas, or "frog's puddle." It's a sit-down restaurant as opposed to a street-side taco stand. The authenticity police might get angry that real tacos are to be consumed sitting down, but rest assured this is the real deal. There's a full kitchen in the back with a fire-roasted rotating pork spit by the door. The smell of roasting pork permeates the entire restaurant.

Biko

Biko

Adam Goldberg
Mexico

Biko is a Mexican-Basque fusion restaurant in Mexico City's posh Polanco district. Its co-chefs, Bruno Oteiza and Mikel Alonso, have the honor of bringing Biko to the Pellegrino Top 50 Best Restaurants list. Its swanky yet minimalist decor of suede chairs squeeking atop tile flooring is a bit cold and clinical -- much like eating in a hallway; but the warm and very professional service compensates to make diners feel at ease and comfortable. The dishes were purportedly a mixture of Basque and Mexican influence, but it was hard to spot the Basque component. The food seemed more like a random collection of European and pan-Asian concepts with occasional Mexican ingredients. Most of the dishes were presented quite beautifully with clever plating, but at times I got the sense that the dishes were more about style than substance. They were everything expected of a fine dining restaurant, minus the background story, passion, and at times, flavor.

Café Passmar

Café Passmar

Adam Goldberg
Mexico

En route to the Frida Kahlo's house in Coyoacán, I made a pit stop for lunch at Mercado Lázaro Cardenas, the covered market in Colonia Del Valle. The market, abundant in colorful piñatas, fruits, and antojitos, also had another surprise: excellent coffee. I was floored to see a La Marzocco occupying the small space squeezed between two fruit-vendors. It's hard to imagine a more perfect afternoon snack than fresh tostadas followed by an espresso (or three). Café Passmar has some of the best coffee I've tasted in Mexico. Passmar's house blend is entirely Mexican in origin, a secret mixture of beans from Guerrero and Chiapas. The coffee is roasted just next door to the storefront at Passmar's micro roastery. This was the first time I'd tried coffee in the same country from where the beans originated. All the best espresso I'd had previously contained beans that were cultivated, packaged, and air-shipped halfway the world before being roasted. After seeing what the dryness and low pressure environment of air transport does to food I've packed myself, it would be hard to imagine that extended air transportation doesn't have an effect on coffee beans.

The coffee I tasted at Passmar was some of the nuttiest most chocolatey espresso I have ever tasted. My girlfriend -- who despises coffee -- took one sip and nearly finished my first cappuccino.

Mariscos Cepy's

Mariscos Cepy's

Adam Goldberg
Mexico

Mexico's rich and diverse cultural history lends to uncountable regional dishes. Nearly every small town across the country has its own specialty or rendition of a National dish. Recently added to the UNESCO world heritage list, Mexican cuisine has at once some of the most complicated and simple recipes in the world. This dichotomy of complexity -- where hundred-ingredient mole sits alongside raw fish garnished with nothing more than lime and salt -- makes Mexican food so incredibly unique and delicious. In coastal towns like Los Mochis, Sinaloa where seafood is easily caught, simple shellfish becomes the crux for local cuisine. (Actually as it turns out, Los Mochis has great just about anything.) It's no coincidence Chicago's Rick Bayless named his seafood restaurant Topolobampo after the port a few miles west of the city center. Don't expect anything fancy: in Mexico, flavor and ambience are often inversely correlated.

Mariscos Cepy's, a small restaurant at the end of a residential block, is always crowded. This is partly because of the exceptionally fresh shellfish, but also because Mexicans know how to take their time and enjoy the afternoon. There's never any rush here, and a few cold drinks and outdoor seat in the sun makes time stand still.

Mercado de Cholula

Mercado de Cholula

Adam Goldberg
Mexico

Sunday mornings in Mexico are strange. It's apocalyptically silent: streets are empty, stores are closed, even stray animals are too tired to roam the alleys. The only sound that can be heard is that of church bells, and it's pretty much a guarantee that even there, most of the people are hung over. It's Sunday, a day of rest and a time to spend with family. Things are slow-paced and laid back. One place is an exception, however: the local market. Almost all towns have some form of a mercado central, a market where fresh local fruits and vegetables are sold, as well as an abundance of smoothies, snacks and homemade foods for comida. While the rest of the city is asleep, the football-sized market rings with knives chopping, customers shouting, and and the satisfying sound of hundreds of crisp tortilla shells cracking all at once.

The closest market to where I've been staying here is the Mercado Central de Cholula. It always has something great on the menu. While it's open every day, Sundays are the busiest which means fresher foods: things sit for a lot less. Vendors sell fresh pico de gallo and deep-fried chicharrones made to order.

Pujol

Pujol

Adam Goldberg
Mexico

I've always liked Mexican food. But it wasn't until I actually visited Mexico, or more specifically met my girlfriend, that I learned what Mexican food really was. This was a cuisine without sour cream, chicken fajitas, "hard" shelled tacos, or tortilla salads. What I had thought was Mexican was actually Tex-Mex. Instead of piling on generous toppings as a mountain of salsa, guacamole, and cheddar cheese, the tacos I encountered were thin, delicate, and rarely adorned with more than a single sauce. In fact all the antojitos were smaller and simpler in comparison. On the other end of the spectrum, I learned, were the elaborate moles which sometimes have over a hundred ingredients. This is a country whose immense diversity of food spans from north to south, from the street into the restaurant. What makes Pujol special is its talented young chef, Enrique Olvera, who takes these nostalgic Mexican dishes, de-constructs, improves, and later re-assembles them for the dining room.