Bacan

The bread basket at Bacan.

From the street Bacan Restaurante is simply gorgeous looking. Ana pointed out to me the other night as we drove by on the way to my favorite B&B. At the corner of Mexicali and Avenida Oaxaca, the place is stunning with it's garden water fountain, Parisian bistro chairs, Euro gas heaters and sharply dressed waiters. It's impressive.

Ana and her mom had been wanting to go and what better time than now?

Printed on the inside of the menu is the definition of Bacan. Dicho de una persona: refinada, de trato amistoso y agradable, muy atractivo y popular, elegante, afecto al lujo y al buen vivir.

And for those of us who are Spanish-challenged, it means a person who is refined, friendly and pleasant treatment, very attractive and popular, stylish, fond of luxury and good living.

In other words: this is place to see and be seen.

And it certainly lives up to its desire. It's obvious that someone spent a lot of money on the buildout because it's gorgeous and everything is well-appointed. This results in a decidedly beautiful crown of Chilangos in nice clothing, driving nice cars and looking like the social elite.

The only problem is that this place is a restaurant and restaurants this nice looking should deliver cuisine that's its equal.

But before I go further, I do have one gripe to grind. This restaurant opened in October of 2011. This is the age of the mobile device. Who the hell thinks its still okay in 2011 to develop a Flash page making it impossible for an entire population of diners to visit your website.

Please take your web designer out to the country and shoot him.

I want to note that the service was really great. The hostess and servers were all very nice, attentive and responded to our needs. The setting is fantastic, the service is good, now what about the food?

Utilizing our scoring standard for barista competitions where a six is extraordinary, I give Bacan a 3.5 - good plus. Described as contemporary fusion, the menu offers an interesting mix of items that sound promising but are produced by a kitchen that doesn't seem up to the challenge. The technique is there, it's just missing that extra detail to make it shine.


Tacos de Pato, Argentinean Empanada and Tuna Ceviche.

Take for example the Tacos de Pato (duck tacos). The meat is lovely. Perfectly cooked and shredded, the texture is also perfect, just where is the flavor of the meat? Strong notes of orange and sweetness dominate over the perfunctory tortilla. The rolled tacos (think: unfried flauta) are laid on top of sweet caramelized (without the caramel color) onions and fried chopped cebollita stems. Sadly, the sweetness comes through and the rest is just flat.

What really makes this dish a shame is that we're in Mexico City - Ground Zero for amazing Mexican cuisine and an ambitious restaurant such as this produces such a taco? For ten percent of the price of this duck taco, I can get an amazing taco at 101 different places. I mean really, a taco here should be stunning.

Then there was the Tuna Ceviche served with avocado on top of a tostada, a nice idea for fusion appetizer. Here the quality of the tuna was just lovely but it was marred by the liberal use of diced tomato (which made it seem like the kitchen is trying to stretch the quantity of tuna used in the dish) and the lack of acidity that is the hallmark of a ceviche. Here the problem of the duck taco returns with a candy like sweetness dominating everything else - even the creaminess of the avocado.

To add insult to injury, the tostadas weren't even executed well. Uneven and bland, some were thick, one was thin. One was soggy. I must note that the one tostada that was thin and crispy made for an excellent texture juxtaposition with the ceviche, it's just a shame the quality control in the kitchen isn't more stringent to maintain tostada consistency.

Senora Garcia's salad of lettuce, goat cheese, apple slices and walnuts was perfunctory but decent while Ana's Penne Con Chistorra was actually nice tasting with a sparse amount of tasty chistorro sausage slices. This dish too was marred by the slightly overcooked pasta which lacked that toothy resistance one expects from a pricey pasta dish at a fine dining restaurant.


Estofado of Ox Tail in red wine sauce.

When choosing between the oven roasted chicken in white sauce or the oxtail stew, our server noted that the stew was the right choice, I went with that recommendation. The braised oxtails were cooked perfectly and dressed with a lovely stew sauce, paired with a buttery smashed potatoes that gave off notes reminiscent of buttered cauliflower, but here too the kitchen fell short with a perfectly textured meat that lacked the oomph to send it over the top.

As I ate the meat, I wondered just what was missing and added a little salt. That was the ticket - the kitchen lacked the ability to season properly. And for a dish that is two hundred and twenty pesos (a little bit more than the average daily wage in Mexico) you expect something stellar.

And that is the problem with Bacan. The food lacks that final detail that make it soar. You want it to be amazing. You hope that it will be amazing, but the food falls short. And that's a shame.

I mean Bacan has all the things you want in a go-to restaurant. Beautiful setting, a place to be seen and great service. It just lacks that one key: stellar cuisine. And that's the reason that stops you from rushing back to eat there again.


Bacan Restaurante Condesa
Mexicali 4 a esquina Nuevo Leon
Hipodromo Condesa DF 06100
5211-9236
bacan.com.mx

Quiet Contemplation at The RTH

Enjoying the evening at The Red Tree House.

In a city of twenty million people, you'd think madness would ensue at all hours. And for the most part, it is madness here. 10pm traffic jams, restaurants filled with patrons at 11pm, and taco joints advertising closing time of 2am o mas.

Yet in the midst of this Spanish-speaking megalopolis I find myself enjoying quiet contemplation in an oasis in the middle of the city - well, at least until that air conditioning condenser from the low-rise building next door kicks in.

You can sometimes hear the odd car or motorcycle drive by or the airliner on approach to Benito Juarez, but other than that, it's pure, tastefully appointed luxury.

Beyond my table, the house is dimly lit, the garden is filled with tropical flora and spot lights. I feel relaxed and contemplative. I have a bottle of Coke Zero, a bowl of ice and a Montecristo Edicion Limitada 2010 to keep my company and it's muy bueno.

In many respects, this house is like my own personal Fantasy Island. Built in the 1930s and remodeled in 2011, it's a gorgeous blend of Art Deco architecture mixed with modern interior design, with just the right touches of ethnographic art and artifacts from Asia and Mexico.

I love it here. In many respects, I wish I didn't have to leave. I wish I could take this with me wherever I go.

Roxy Mas!

Coconut, tutti frutti, tutti frutti and the mystery orange flavor.

Carnitas Alfonso

Assorted pork goodies in the window at Carnitas Alfonso.

One of the nicest things about Mexico is that Mexicans are not afraid of pork.

Seemingly everywhere you turn, it's pork this and pork that. Pork, pork, pork. God love this place.

Of course, if you're Jewish or Muslim, you're kinda in trouble. Then again, I don't recall seeing a lot of pork places in Polanco where many of the Jewish community lives.

Meanwhile, on the outskirts of Mexico City in Naucalpan stands Carnitas Alfonso. Adriana and Hector have been raving about this place and on a recent Sunday afternoon, instead of being good Catholics and going to mass, we decided to worship at the altar of pork while watching futbol on the television.


Salsas y Limon.

Honestly, I can't imagine what it must be like to come to Mexico and be someone who doesn't eat pork. Like watching porn, you're missing out on half the fun.

And when you arrive at Carnitas Alfonso, you're greeted by windows of sheer and utter pork goodness. Not just the ribs or the belly or the shoulder, but by mounds of intestines, jowls and amazingly large sheets of chicharron. I mean sheets as big as your torso. Fantastic.


Pickled peppers and red onions.

If you so choose, you can eat outside while picking and choosing from the selections in the window. Or you can head inside, sit at a table and enjoy flowing plates of endless pork.

Our server brings us a large menu listing hundreds of items. He wants to know what we would like. Really, I want to tell him to simply bring me the tastiest pork stuff they make, prepared in a manner that I can readily and easily put it in my mouth to eat. Good thing Hector knows what to order.


Gorditas.

In just a little while, a parade of plates starts making their way to our table. It's a blizzard of antojitos and I recall splashes of ground masa with cheese and pork, along with salsas and limes and tall, super cold glasses of freshly made horchata.

Gracias Hey-seuss (Jesus).


Quesadillas.

As they bring out the pile of carnitas by the kilo, I'm starting to realize that maybe I'm feeling a little on the full side. But the steaming pile of pork is too good to resist. Add the stack of hot tortillas and how is one supposed to resist? It can't be.

Oh but it's so delicious. Delicate, tender meat. Technically speaking, our meat isn't really "carnitas" but actually the rib meat - meaning it's got more fat and more flavor.


Carnitas por kilo.

In the end, the plates are empty and we realize that we should spend some time simply walking around to alleviate the pressure. It was a good meal. A tasty meal. A meal worth repeating.

And next time, we're going to explore the other bits.


Oh, chicharron!



Carnitas Alfonso
Blvd. Manuel Avila Camacho 865
Echegaray, Estado de Mexico
Tel: 5363 3229

Neveria Roxy

Tutti Frutti, Coconut and Strawberry ice creams.

What's missing in Baltimore is an old school soda fountain kind of joint. Not so in Mexico City where Neveria Roxy still maintains the flavors of the past. Inside you'll find a nice selection of ice creams and sorbets, along with milkshakes, malts, sodas and more. All of this in the kind of retro-1950s soda fountain looking place.

The thing is, it's doesn't seem like it was made to look 1950s. It looks like it was actually built in the 1950s.


Ana Claudia sells mas agua.



A Roxy Favorite: Coca-Cola with a scoop of lime sorbet.



A bit more refreshing than a root beer float.

Adobo The World

General ingredients for Sunday Meal.

Yes, I can cook.

It's times like these when I get myself into trouble.

Perhaps it's time that I start to think like a normal guy: I don't know how to cook. I just want to sit on the couch watching The Game and talk player stats while guzzling six-packs of beer.

Instead, I find myself on a Sunday late morning at the local supermarket looking for ingredients to make "something Filipino."


Making "medium grain" rice with a 50/50 mixture of long grain and short grain rices. It worked!

Earlier this year, I had the notion of going out to eat Filipino food in Mexico City. A google search for "Filipino restaurants Mexico City" returned nothing, so I contacted the Philippine Embassy in Mexico City, asking them for guidance on where to eat traditional Filipino food in the city.

Surely, in a city of 20 million people, some Filipinos would have found their way to these shores (consider the old Manila-Mexico-Spain trade route) and opened up a carinderia.

A couple of days later, a reply from the Consul General was telling: no Filipino restaurants in Mexico City. No Filipino restaurants in all of Mexico, for that matter. Huh???



Pork Adobo Battle Ingredients: pork ribs, butter, white onion, garlic, soy sauce, vinegar, red wine & jalapeno.

I couldn't believe it. There's Filipinos and their restaurants everywhere. Wherever there's work and the chance to send remittances back home, Filipinos have landed. How is it this mighty city has none. Am I the only Filipino in the city (along with the embassy staff)?

No Filipino restaurants. No Filipino food. If I move here, I could be in trouble. That's right when the girls had the idea that I should cook Sunday meal. But not just any meal. They wanted to try real Filipino food. Whatever that was.


Seared, stewed and ready to serve.

As to be expected, when it comes to fresh Mexican ingredients, Mexico is all aces. When it comes to assembling the ingredients needed to make authentic, traditional Filipino (or general Asian) food, that's where Mexico starts to stumble.

Of course, it could be just that I don't know the lay of the land. Maybe there's some secret mercado filled with Asian foodstuffs longing for my discovery - like that little Chinese market on Puente Alvarado in Tabacalera.

At one point, I thought seriously about making Kare Kare but a quick search at the supermarket left some key ingredients out. Ixnay the Kare Kare. Enter Pork Adobo.


Monday morning breakfast: pan fried pork adobo, Sinaag fried rice and some eggs.

In the world of Filipino cookery, Adobo is the ubiquitous traditional dish. Everyone knows it. Everyone can make it. Sorta. Everyone has their own twist. Take a drive across just Luzon and you'll find thousands of different variations of Adobo. Talk to your friends and each of them has their own preferred way. Some like it dry. Others fried. Some like it with sabaw (or sauce). Others hate it that way.

Then the ingredients can get kinda crazy and esoteric - some of which fly completely in the face of what you know as "adobo". Like that dude who talked about putting coconut milk in his adobo: Heretic. Or peppers. Or fish. Strange and odd stuff, but all under that known as adobo.

And it's completely different than Mexican Adobo. Actually, I don't even know what Mexican Adobo is, but to this Filipino boy: it ain't Adobo to me.

For Sunday Meal, I just took the simple route, with a little twist. Pork ribs with some butter, onion and red wine to add to the traditional ingredients of garlic, black pepper, bay leaves, soy sauce and vinegar. After some careful searing and some long stewing, it was ready to eat and enjoyed by all.

Like many dishes around the world, Adobo enjoys a little age. So, the next day, all by myself, I indulged myself in a little treat. Pan fried pork adobo with some eggs and garlic fried rice.

Not a bad way to remember the flavors of home while off in a distant land.

The Little Pambazos of Ben Franklin

Everybody's working at Los Pambacitos.

Right before we went to Hamburguesas Montaner, Ana asked me if I had tried pambazos. Of course, I've tried pambazos - that ubiquitous Mexico City bolillo sandwich that's sauteed in salsa rojo. Actually, I've never had it here, only at the fabled Fiesta Mexicana in Baltimore, but it's pretty authentic.

But, as she noted, I hadn't had these pambazos.

We were in the neighborhood to try the bandillos and I was a bit weary of having a big pambazo after eating at Hamburguesas Montaner, thinking that we were going to try a different twist on the typical pambazo. Maybe we can get one to go and that we can share.

Ana knew better.


The mother and her son.

Los Pambacitos de Ben Franklin is on a quiet residential street in Colonia Escandon. At night, it's like an oasis on the quiet and dark Calle Progreso. Why it's called Benjamin Franklin I have no idea. At first, I thought it might be on Calle Benjamin Franklin, but no so I have no idea why, but then again, it really doesn't matter.

Forget what you know about pambazos, this place is something different. Instead of the traditional bolillo, they have racks behind the counter of flattened out dough ovals that are dropped into a fryer once you place your order. Suddenly, you realize that this really is going to be different.


Frijoles and Carne Deshabrada Pambacitos.

The dough comes out light and fluffy on the inside and slightly crispy on the outside. It's like fried dough heaven and you have arrived. And it's fried by the matronly mother (or maybe grandmother) who carefully fries the dough, slices it open and fills it with your choice of filling. She's deliberate and methodical in her work and you quickly realize (so long as you're paying attention) that she's a master of her craft and you're about to experience it first-hand.

For ten pesos, you can have a pambacito with your choice of filling: carne deshebrada, salpicon, papa con chorizo, frijoles, chicharron, chile cuaresmeno, jamon and mole. Combinations can be made for a peso more. And they have pozole and atole available as well. I would have liked to induge but that would have been lunacy.

I had the simple carne deshebrada or shredded beef. Ana had the frijoles. Both were just perfect. Little bites of meat (or beans) properly seasoned with the alternating crispy and soft texture of the bread. Fantastic.

But while it was a good experience, I have to recommend that one goes there on an empty stomach and prepares oneself for the complete tour. A menu such as this, with small pambazos, deserves further and deeper exploration. One of each should suffice, along with a bowl of pozole and a side of the delicious-looking strawberry atole (though I suspect the flavor of atole changes regularly).

I will return.


Los Pambacitos de Benjamin Franklin
Calle Progreso
Near the corner of Calle Francisco Murgia
Colonia Escandon
Mexico DF

Hamburguesas Montaner

Bienvenidos a Hamburguesas Montaner.

"Have you ever tried bandillos?", asked Ana.

Bandillos. Something that only proper bandits ate? Sounded interesting. But she wanted a definitive answer but I had no idea what bandillos were and she had taken me to try so many different things that maybe I had already tried them and didn't realize it. Afterall, I could be a proper Bandito...

In Colonia Escandon, at the southeast corner of Jose Marti and Patriotismo, is a small cluster of food stands. There you will find Hamburguesas Montaner and the famous bandillo.


Cheese and sausage bandillos.

I had been in the city for a couple of days and was starting to feel a certain withdrawal from french fries. As much as I may love tacos, tacos al pastor and the assortment of wonderful Mexican fare, I can't help but to think how much powerful that pastor experience would be with a side of salted papas fritas.

Knowing me all too well, she asked me if I wanted to have some fries and then we were off to Montaner.


Getting inside the sausage.

Most of the food stalls in Mexico City are small, mom and pop affairs. There's pop grilling the burgers, mom frying everything else and maybe their son taking money. And it all happens in what must be an eight foot long by four foot deep metal stand.

The best thing about Mexico City is that it's populated by places like Montaner, selling just about everything Mexican you could ever dream of eating. And they're everywhere, which means that there are plenty of places that are just so-so and some that are stellar. They key is driving around a seeing which stands have the longest lines.


Papas Fritas piled high with cheese, mayo, ketchup and Valentina. Darn good.

As received our order of fries and bandillos, I realized that I had never had these before in Mexico City and what was once unknown and mysterious, was suddenly familiar and comforting. Think "corn dogs" and you've pretty much got what a bandillo is all about. However, in this case, the batter isn't thick, it's thin and light, and makes for a nice treat when slathered with mayo, ketchup, mustard and a side of pureed jalapeno peppers.

Ana's favorite is the cheese version and I have to agree that I think it's better. Better mouthfeel and a nice chewiness that goes well with the batter.


Montaner's Hawaiian Hamburger.

But since this is "Hamburguesas Montaner", I had to try a sample of their hamburger. Ana ordered the Hawaiian which is their burger with a slice ring of pineapple, lightly griddled. I'm guessing it's canned pineapple since most people don't cut rings that perfect by hand!

The burger was pretty decent. Simple, basic fare. Piled high with toppings and condiments, it's a messy burger but quite satisfying.


Hamburguesas Montaner
Patriotismo 85
Colonia Escandon
Mexico DF

Cold In-Fusion

Adding cold water to the coffee.

I've been thinking about cold infusions lately. Infusions that don't require heat and are not destructive (changing) to the ingredients used. Heat up the ingredients and a change occurs. What ways can we move to infuse liquids while trying to capture the vibrancy of the natural ingredients?

A technique developed by Dave Arnold at the French Culinary Institute described using an iSi Whip Charger to infuse flavors. At its most basic, the iSi is widely used to make whipped cream. Insert cream, add a little sugar, seal and charge with a nitrogen cartridge and you've got ready made whipped cream.


Double-charged and three minutes.

The whipper is a great tool and I've used it before to make foams and played a little with them to inject carbon dioxide into products - "Strawberry Soda", anyone?

All of this started the other night while I was lying in bed thinking about mole - that ubiquitous Mexican dish of spices, chiles, nuts and cocoa. How might we be able to create a drink that represented mole?


Straining the liquid infusion.

Originally, I pondered this similar question four years ago and didn't get very far. The complex and powerful flavors of the mole, not to mention the gritty paste (for a drink) that serves as the base, made it difficult to work with and I soon abandoned that idea for others (the "Breakfast In Bed" concept).

Fast forward four years and I'm back in the same situation, considering the options. This time, the potential lies in being able to take the ingredients and infuse them into a liquid to carry the flavor and combine that with coffee (or espresso). And maybe Dave's idea of cold infusion might work.


Still a bit cloudy.

But without the necessary ingredients at the ready to make a proper mole, I decided to give it a conceptual try using whatever we had on hand - namely coffee. Stumptown's Finca San Vicente coffee from Honduras has been performing brilliantly this week with notes of vanilla, cinnamon, caramel, hops and macadamia nuts and would make for an interesting test subject. What kind of notes and nuances might we be able to extract from the coffee with this method?

As a baseline, we took 24 grams of the San Vicente and ground it coarser than for french press on a Compak R80 grinder (roughly the 90 setting). Placed that in the iSi Whipper along with 14 ounces of cold water. Screw the top on tight and charge with two (2) nitrogen cartridges, making sure to wait a few moments to allow the nitrogen to absorb into the liquid and shake well between charges.


Through a paper filter.

Once charged, we waited about three (3) minutes for the infusion to take place, being sure to note the fact that if we had simply brewed the coffee it would have taken the same amount of time.

Degas the whipper by holding it upright and using a container to catch any liquid that may come through the nozzle. Slowly allow the gas to escape and then unscrew the top. You'll notice that the liquid looks like it's boiling. This is perfectly normal. After straining the liquid, we noticed that there were still quite a bit of particulates in the liquid and then passed it through a paper coffee filter. Note: it will be more efficient to stir the liquid in the whipper and then pour the entire contents through the paper filter instead of using the strainer first. Passing strained coffee liquid through a paper filter always results in too many fines clogging the filter and slowing the process immensely.


Gassed up.

We tasted the liquid and it was light, fruity with a slight tartiness. Jacked it up with a little simple syrup and the liquid became vibrant. What were just a moment ago light and elusive fruit flavors were now dominate notes of tamarind - both sweet and tarty.

But it needed something more to give it a kick. Back into the iSi, we hit it with one charge of carbon dioxide, degassed and then poured it out.

Something to keep in mind about carbonation: you want the liquid to be cold. CO2 does not hold in warm temperatures. It simply gasses out into the environment. Which is why warm Coke goes flat at alarming rates. The colder the better. We added ice cubes to the iSi to chill down the liquid and keep it as cold as possible.


Finished. Sort of.

Degas the whipper in the same manner as before and we found a lovely amber colored liquid with lovely notes of tamarind and that refreshing carbon dioxide kick. It really brought it to life.

Next week: time to give it a try with actual mole ingredients!

Para El Metrico del Mirador (For BrowserMetrics)

Anime characters, Mexican Style.

Getting It On In Spanish

My keyboard is nothing like this!

A few years ago while I was in Tokyo, I thought how cool it would be to own a MacBook with the Japanese characters on the keyboard. I never did get around to buying a laptop there and I never thought about workflow using an unfamiliar keyboard.

Fast forward to 2011 and I'm using a friends MacBook to write posts to this blog - with a Spanish language keyboard. At first, you don't notice the difference. A roman character keyboard is a roman character keyboard. Until you start typing.


All My English Belongs To Spanish.

That's when it goes to hell. Suddenly, you're faced with lots of unfamiliar keys, keys out of place and your typing speed plummets. However, if you like to write Spanish words the macrons and tildas that are missing from an American QWERTY keyboard are all there. It's like magic.

Then there's the spell check. The blog is written in English. The MacBook is Spanish and 98% of the words that I write are marked for spell checking. Weird.

I think in an ideal world, I would have two MacBook Pros. One English and one Spanish, just because.

Martha At The Market

Hombre del Cobre at La Ciudadela.

I had never been to La Ciudadela until today while we were on the hunt for a metate, that traditional Mexican volcanic stone grinder that´s ideal for grinding the ingredients for mole. It´s the famous artisanal market filled with things touristy and things useful for the Mexican local. One great thing to remember is that the prices here are muy barato (very cheap).

Like the handmade tin wall mirrors with talavera tiles for 100 pesos (less than 10 dollars). Or the talavera style sugar holder for 150 pesos (less than $15). The prices can be truly astounding. Take for instance the Copper Pot Guy. In his little shop, he´s got all sorts of copper pieces, cookware and the like for crazy prices. A double handled hand-hammered copper pot for 250 pesos?? Insane!

After finding just the right metate, that weighs at least 40 pounds, (and guess who had to carry that thing) we returned to the Copper Pot Guy to make final decisions - because I couldn´t turn down that pot which would cost nearly ten times that at William-Sonoma.

As we´re standing there, two women and a man enter the shop. Normally, I wouldn´t have noticed much about them but they stood out. Two very white and American looking women, very nicely dressed and accompanied by some Mexican guy with dark sunglasses and a cheap suit: bodyguard or driver.

Most American tourists I see in Mexico City dress pretty casually and all kind of blend in to the typical tourist look. Not these two women. The curly redhead seemed a bit uptight, the taller blonde I really didn´t notice other than the fact that she was looking at copper pieces and I thought about recommending one of the pieces just because I liked them. But something about them irritated at me.

They just seemed out of place. They looked out of place. It´s the bodyguard that gave them away. Had it not been for him, I would have probably thought they were just another couple of rich women from Polanco.

That´s right when Morgana said to the blonde: "Martha Stewart."

Hmmm, Martha Stewart. My puzzled look probably turned to perplexed because Martha said to me: "You look like you were trying to figure that out." To which I replied: "Actually, it was your bodyguard that attracted my attention."

You've probably heard the stories about her. A tyrant. A horrible person to work for. A total bitch. A convict. Well, Ana never heard of her and I don´t think most of the merchants and people in the market knew who "Martha Stewart" is and the fact that she runs some mega-company called Martha Stewart Omnimedia - which you probably have to be all those things to achieve that level of success. Of course, I'm sure those rich, cosmopolitan types know Martha.

As for me, she wasn't the right "Martha". Running into Martha Stewart for me is notable, but running into Martha Higareda might actually cause me to stammer and stall.

Despite being outed by Morgana (even though it was only the three of us, the Copper Guy and their bodyguard), Martha was very gracious and pleasant. She looked over some small copper plates, asked The Copper Guy for the price (40 pesos) and then quietly departed. It didn´t seem like anyone, other than Morgana, recognized Martha Stewart in the market.

As she departed, I waited to hear the throngs pushing on this very famous woman in America. Nothing. No one batted an eye. The bodyguard, in this part of Mexico City, was probably overkill. She probably arrived in a Mercedes. Appropriate for Polanco, but probably a bit overkill for this part of town. Here, if she dressed down a bit - maybe jeans and a comfy shirt instead of the tailored trousers and silk blouse, she would blend in and no one would be the wiser.

I thought of Martha after awhile as i was humping this forty pound metate and I felt bit sorry for her. No doubt she will be treated to "the best" of Mexico. She could hang out with Diana Kennedy and probably will have dinner with Presidente Felipe Calderón tonight, but she´ll always be "Martha Stewart" and unable to simply blend in and mingle with regular folk and eat regular food - which, I think, is where the true beauty of Mexico (or any other place in the world, for that matter) lies.

So Martha, if ever you want to break away from the confines of your world, come and hang with us. Wear jeans (Levis are okay with us), wear a t-shirt, wear flip-flops and we´ll arrange a fun meal amongst friends. And you can tell your bodyguard that it´s okay to wear a Mexico futbol jersey (black if he really wants to remain incognito).

Mole at El Bajio

Las Salsas y Limon.

Ever since my very first visit to El Bajio nearly four years ago, I've been kind of obsessed. I was so moved by her cuisine that when Carmen Titita Ramirez came to Washington, D.C., I had to go and listen to her speak.

The woman is a tour de force of Mexican cuisine. According the interviews I've read, she looks upon nouvelle cuisine as rubbish, preferring to honor and perpetuate tradition rather than fanciful efforts to make simple items like tacos "elevated" - as though something so delicious and sublime needs elevation. The next year, I would trap my friends into going. And then it would seem that no trip to Mexico City would be complete without a visit.


Enchiladas de Pollo con Mole hecho en casa.

Usually, I have something like the chilaquiles or the carnitas. This time I was in the mood for something different: mole. But I didn't want a large piece of chicken so the enchilada would have to do.

El Bajio has several locations around Mexico City and one might think that with scale comes some level of blandness, not so with El Bajio and its obsessive chef/owner. The mole, quite simply, was a revelation. Near perfection. With some moles, I'm inclined to add salt to boost the flavor. Not so here. The flavors pronounced yet smooth. A complete harmony and symphony. Nothing too high, nothing diminished. It was one of the very few times in life that a dish actually spoke to me.


That totopo and frijoles are lurking about.

When it comes to cuisine like this, you want to hoard it hungrily, greedily, selfishly. You want to covet it like The Lord of the Rings. It is sublime. It is the incarnation of why Carmen Ramirez scoffs at the new cuisine. When tradition is carried forward in this manner, you don't need anything else.

Considering my dining companions, I fight the urge to scarf this mole down at high speed. I want to chew and slurp and dabble and mop up the sauce. I want to cry at its beauty. Instead, I savor in silence. I remain calm and stoic lest Senora think that I'm just a crazy fool.


Can't get enough.

As our meal ends and I'm traveling along the darkened streets of the big city, I feel content in the world. But just for a moment.

Los Cunados

Up close and personal with the Pastor.

My whole obsession with tacos al pastor must be reaching new heights. While walking down the block today, I noticed a trompero setting up his trompo with a stack of raw marinated pork. I had never seen the trompo up close at the start of the day and it was fascinating to see it live.

Turns out that today is the first day of operations for the new Los Cunados taqueria. After some debate at the shop about if it really is their first day, I decided that a new pastor stand deserves a little investigation and so off Eliu and I went. Me to order and Eliu to sort out the Spanish that I was sure to bungle.

Of course, Eliu doesn't speak much English so his role was mainly to field questions and answer them on my behalf otherwise I'd have a shopful of taqueros looking at me like I was Brother From Another Planet. Gracias, Eliu.

The rescue started almost immediately. As we walked up to the trompero, I asked him to make us diez (ten) tacos para llevar (to go). That's when the flurry of questions started coming and Eliu stepped in to cover me.

How many tacos would you like on the plate? Two? Three? Answer: five.
Do you want salsas and limes? Answer: Si.
How about something to drink? Answer: Diet Coke.

If it had been me all by myself, it would have taken me double to time to slowly, excruciatingly translate what the trompero was asking, mis-interpret a number of words, nod mindlessly "yes" to try to smooth the situation and finally, maybe, actually get it correctly. Meanwhile, the cadre of trompero, cooks and customers would have been looking at me like I was some crazy gringo asking for ten tacos that couldn't speak Spanish.

Finally, with a bagful of tacos al pastor, some condiments and a couple of Diet Cokes, we made our way back to the cafe to share in the bounty. At 12 pesos per taco, they're a bit more expensive than other places but they are larger sized tortillas and tacos which means more value for the money. With ten tacos, we had two each and I found myself feeling kinda full after the first taco.

The big question is always: How does it rate against El Rey del Tacos al Pastor - El Vilsito? They're okay and very different. First, the spice marinade is different. The trompero slices the meat thicker than Vilsito making it more chunky (comparatively). After slicing the meat, the trompero drops it onto a very well oiled plancha meaning that everyone noted that the tacos were greasy.

The green salsa was very mild, the red salsa was just right with a slight touch of heat but the true star of the tacos were the tortillas themselves. Golden yellow in color with a light flakiness and solid corn flavor. Very nice. Me gusta.

All in all, Los Cunados offers some decent tacos al pastor. Can't say they're worth rushing across town through heavy traffic (like Vilsito) but they're decent enough. Bear in mind that today was their first day of business and things are likely to change and improve. It's important to note that because it takes a little while for a new shop and staff to really get into the groove and the trompero looked a bit harried because he was trying to pump out ten tacos for me and a couple more for some other guests.

In addition to pastor, Los Cunados offers a selection of tortas, sincronizadas, alambres, aguas y jugos and gringas.


Los Cunados
Jose de Emperan 9
Colonia Tabacalera
Delegacion Cuauhtemoc
06030 Mexico D.F.
5535 9326
5592 3449

Hanging At The Tianguis

Entering the Tianguis de Obrero Mundial.

In America, we have our Farmer's Markets. In Mexico, they have Tianguis. Weekly markets that move from place to place daily. Live in any neighborhood (colonia) in the capital and you're bound to have a weekly market that sets up on your street selling just about anything the hungry chilango could want. Fruits, vegetables, meats, kitchen utensils, meals, starches, mole - it's all here for the taking.

And really, what is Mexico more than a place to try wonderful ingredients. Times like this really make me wish that I had my kitchen here in Mexico to go absolutely ballistic. While this may sound disparaging to our American farmers markets, I find Mexican tianguis to have an amazing selection of produce and the quality is very high.


Fresh tripe.

Much of this has to do with latitude. Fresh bananas, pineapples, limes and papayas - all truly "local" because Mexico has the right climes to grow this produce year-round. Then come the meats. I notice that the chickens are quite yellow and I'm thinking that this is due to the fact that they must be pastured. Senora Garcia assures us that they paint the chickens. Maybe but the remnant feathers on the birds look white to me - would they too be yellow if they were painted?

Looking around, the assortment is just massive. I see stuff I only read about from Diana Kennedy. I'm fascinated by the huitlacoche (corn fungus). I stare and I stare, and the vendor must think I'm nuts. Piles of ground mole tempt me. Could I have a taste? And then maybe ten kilos? Can you vacuum seal that in plastic to avoid problems with the US government??


These guys offer mixed veggies ready to make soups.

Clothes, jewelry, bedsheets and those typical Mexican coveralls that make you look like you're raiding the Wild West, all fight for your attention. One stall has a wide selection of motion pictures on DVD. I want to search for Transformers 3, just because.

It's Sunday and everywhere I turn, I see people in green or black futbol jerseys. They look so cool and I want one. Do they make them in my size? I imagine myself as Pablo Berrera working the ball and being loved by the masses.


Cecina Adobada Taco.

Finally, we make our way into the food area of the tianguis. Seemingly limitless stalls of food vendors selling what amounts to a moving, roving Cocina Mexicana Heaven. So many delectable treats to try. Barrels of agua frescas, battle shields of chicharron, piles of varied porks, stacks of corn tortillas, you just can't try them all.

I opt to try just a few items. One of each only, please. I want to sample the flavors. Most places in America that serve carnitas just serve "carnitas" - here, they break them down into the various parts of the pig. In Mexico, it's not enough to simply tell them you want a carnitas taco, you need to specify that you want the calf or the lower leg or other variations that I still don't understand.


Michoacan Style Carnitas Taco.

After sampling some of the local tacos, I spy on the agua frescas people. The last time I was here in April, I noticed the aguas guy at the Anzures Tianguis had an amazingly red watermelon agua fresca that was clear with no bits of pulp. It looked unnatural. I've been making watermelon agua fresca since last summer and I've never achieved results like that.

Which made me wonder if some of the aguas being sold were of the Klass brand powdered mix variety. Of course, most of the aguas look like they're handmade. They've got seeds or bits of this and that floating in them but that stunningly clear and red watermelon got me thinking.


Chicharron con Queso Quesadilla.

What also got me thinking were the horchatas. I only recently started making horchata on the weekends at Spro, grinding rice and canela then mixing it with water and sugar. It's quite simple and features a slight grittiness due to the ground rice. The only times I've tried it without the grit is when it was made from a mix.

Maybe it's the romantic idealist in me but I would like to believe that everything in Mexico is made from scratch, in the traditional way. But, as long as it tastes good, I guess it's all good. I guess I'm going to have to do more investigating. Poor me.


Chicken Flauta.

It's not even noon and already Senora is thinking about dinner. I like that about Mexico. Food is important. It's not some sort of hashed up meal made from microwaved frozen chicken tenders. Even when Mexicans don't want to cook, there's a plethora of vendors to choose from who are only happy to sell you anything and everything you need to eat at home - already cooked.

The Mixote Guys prepare us a bag for dinner. Inside is a half pound of Mixote, a stack of corn tortillas, limes, red and green salsas and picked red onions. No one will go hungry tonight.


Consome with garbanzo beans and rice.

Some of the vendors offer seating and on a Sunday morning, the place is packed. We grab three seats and begin to order. Since I've already eaten two tacos, I keep it on the low drive: a chicharron y cheese quesadilla, a consome and half a flauta. The consome is new, a simple pork broth with a little garbanzo beans and rice. It's savory and slightly sour, reminding me of Filipino Sinigang. I like it.

After a nice meal, we wander the stalls and find our way to the nieve guy. He's got a surprisingly wide selection of sorbets - considering he carted them all here. I choose a combination of rice and cheese, just to see how my own queso ice cream compares. The queso is smooth with chunks of cheese, I like it and feel reassured that my own version isn't too far off from what's here in El De Efe.


Mixote Meal in a Bag.



Woah, fresh huitlacoche!



Fresh Mamey.



The Man With Mole.



The Nieve Man.



Mamey y Cajeta nieve and Arroz y Queso nieve.