A Brief Food Tour of Mexico City, Part 1

As I mentioned in the latest post, Mexico City is one of my favorite cities in the world.  And how might a city enter that hall of fame?

Having good food is a start.

I’d like to share with you a few highlights from a recent trip to the world’s largest Spanish-speaking city, in what I hope will become a series documenting Mexico’s variegated cuisines.

But before we dive in, we might want to consider…

La Vacuna Restaurant, Mexico City, Mexico

“The Vaccine.”  What an unusually timely name for a restaurant.  Though, I’d say for eating out on the town, washing up with soap with suffice.

OK, let’s start with two examples of comida callejera, or street food.

Street Food Vendor Preparing Chorizo Verde on a Comal (Flat Griddle)

Green chorizo, what?!  Yes, chorizo verde was something I only discovered at a brunch buffet two years ago in the Mexican capital.  Hailing from the city of Toluca in the state of Mexico (which surrounds Mexico City on three sides), chorizo verde consists of pork, and mix of herbs, spices, and chilies.  Standard chorizo – the reddish one given a smokiness by the cayenne pepper (pimentón)  – is quite filling, so the green version allows one to…eat even more.  That’s my experience, anyway!

Tacos de Chorizo Verde, Mexico City

Chorizo verde is not one of the more common street food options, but keep a look out for it if you want an herbal, slightly lighter take on its Iberian cousin.

Having consumed just two tacos for the day, I was still feeling peckish.  Enter, one of the best food stalls I’ve seen in Mexico City, nay anywhere, in the Colonia Juárez district.

It’s easy to get distracted by the deliciousness surrounding you in a place like Mexico, yet even in that lofty position, there exist stand-outs:

An Array of Meat and Salsa (and Guacamole), Mexico City, Mexico

On the comal – a flat griddle (historically made of clay) used for centuries in Mexico -these three chefs had chorizo, campechano (a mix of beef and pork of various cuts), suadero (fried beef), carnitas (shredded pork shoulder braised in its own fat), something akin to a burger, papas (potatoes), and nopales, or cactus.  What really sold me was the “fixins’ bar” of condiments– guajillo salsa, tomatillo salsa, beans, avocado tomatillo salsa, guacamole (!), pickled carrots, onions and cilantro, and a bevy of Veracruz limes.  Wow.

What did I order?

Two chorizo tacos with melted queso para asar (grilling cheese), potatoes, and onions, and a plate of the fun stuff.  Naturally, by the time I was finished chowing everything down, I had two more plates of salsa, and three more tacos.

Time for a drink break.

Namiola in Spanish, means wave.  It’s also the name of the first brand of sake produced on Mexican soil, in the city of Culiacán, Sinaloa.  Although the brewery, called Sakecul, produces three types of sake – junmai (純米 – pure rice without added alcohol/sugar), junmai ginjou (吟醸 – highly milled rice), and junmai daiginjou (大吟醸 – very highly milled rice, usually considered the top-tier of sake) – they also produce a beer called Haiku.  Nami was founded in September 2016, and can be found throughout major Mexican cities.

I sample the junmai and the daiginjou at Hiyoko, a modern yakitori restaurant in what has become the capital’s de facto Japanese barrio (neighborhood).

To top off my first review of Mexico City eats, I bring you la Señora Torres (named after the restaurant owner):

La Señora Torres, Mi Compa Chava, Mexico City, Mexico

Basically, I was searching in Spanish for popular restaurants in Mexico City, and came across Mi Compa Chava (My Pal Chava), a relative newcomer in the chic Roma Norte section of town.  It’s a seafood restaurant focusing on fresh catches from Sinaloa, the same state where the sake originated.

It’s also the home of that unbelieavable tower (torre coincidentally means “tower” in Spanish) of seafood, as shown above and below…

The edible skyscraper had layers of octopus, raw shrimp, cooked shrimp, cucumber, yellow fin tuna, red onion, avocado, and callo de hacha (scallops). Upon serving the tower, the waiter poured a blend of lime juice, charred tomatoes, Morita chilies, and a house salsa over it, returning the seafood back “to the sea.” Actually, that’s just my take on things.

The dish was a delight to conquer, and showed how fresh each ingredient could taste, in spite of being a couple of hours flight time from the Sinaloa port of Los Mochis (Mexico City is, after all the home of the largest seafood market in the country, and the largest wholesale food market in the world).


What’s that you say?  You want to see more of Mexican gastronomy?  Perhaps a churro, some tacos al pastor, or even a tour of the retail section of the wholesale food market?

I think that can be arranged.

Desserts: Rasgulla (India)

Dhaka - Rasgulla

Given Names: Rasgulla, Rasagola

 chhena*, maida*, sugar syrup, (lemon juice)

Background: Apparently, rasgulla is one of the oldest Indian desserts, arguably created in either Odisha or West Bengal (two present-day Indian states). According to legend, it was frequently used as an offering to Lakshmi, the Hindu goddess of wealth and prosperity.

Verdict: Rasgulla is one of the more approachable Indian sweets.  Although it is soaked in sugar, I feel that the lemon juice and maida helped reduce the sugar’s potency.  Sometimes cardamom and/or rose water are added, as well as pistachios, though the latter serves more as a garnish.  Still, upon looking at that giant bowl of sugar syrup, how could you not want to go bobbing for rasgulla?

*chhena (Hindi)= a curd cheese made from water buffalo milk
maida= refined and bleached wheat flour, common in Indian breads and desserts
mithai= sweets/confectionery

Huitlacoche, the Caviar of Mexico

Welcome to the world of Mexican corn smut, better known as h(c)uitlacoche.

Cancun - Huitlacoche
Huitlacoche Tortilla, Cancun, Mexico

What is huitlacoche?

Also called corn mushroom, Aztec caviar or Mexican truffle, it’s a fungus that the Aztecs knew about; the name derives from the Náhuatl words cuitlatl, or droppings, and cochi, sleeping.  The corn kernels become entirely consumed by the fungal disease, swell, turn grayish and surprisingly, wind up in your street food; when the huitlacoche is still white, you can eat raw, but if it has already turned gray/black, it should be cooked. It doesn’t ordinarily devastate whole corn crops at one time, so a visit to a cornfield might take you a while to find husks that are infected.

In Mexico, huitlacoche is lauded for its nutrients – it is low in fat and high in fiber and antioxidants – and health benefits, but in the USA, you’re more likely to see it canned in Mexican supermarkets.

Credit: https://world.openfoodfacts.org/product/7501017004881/huitlacoche-la-costena

I first tried huitlacoche in Cancun, Mexico; the flavor was earthy and nutty, and even a bit salty, though that may have been due to the melted quesillo (Oaxaca cheese).  It is normally found at the height of the Mexican rainy season, in July and August, but given its popularity, some agronomists are experimenting with growing the Ustiligo maydis fungus year-round.

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