Zócalo & Black Jesus

I woke up early today with the sun drenching my apartment. The rain finally let up & I had the kind of day I was waiting for to walk to & around Zócalo. Zócalo is the name for the historic center of México City but it literally translates to "base of a statue". Apparently there was a plan to build a statue commemorating the independence from Spain but they only got as far as the base, & even that was destroyed long ago while the name lives on. Strangely a couple of other cities in México call their town square "zócalo" in emulation of the DF despite having nothing to do with statue bases.

When the Spaniards conquered what is now México City, they built their town on top of the ruins of the Aztec city that was the center of their culture & trade. What started as a small but important colonial seat grew & spread into this city with it's current proportions. However the area that is in & around Zócalo is still almost entirely made up of the original old Spanish colonial buildings with cobblestone streets that gives it the appearance of the heart of any old European city.

And when I say the Spanish built on top of the Aztec city, I mean that literally. In the 1970s the city discovered the ruins of Aztec pyramids & out-buildings while excavating for construction in Zócalo. This site is now called "Templo Mayor" and it is still being excavated as I type, with the already-uncovered portion turned into a museum. Templo Mayor sits less than 100 yards from the 2 ancient Catholic cathedrals that form the north side of the center of Zócalo.

The main square that is technically Zócalo is bordered by some of the most important & impressive Spanish architecture in the western hemisphere. As I mentioned in the last paragraph, the northern edge is formed by 2 of the most awe-inspiring cathedrals I've ever seen. The eastern edge is the gigantic Palacio Nacional which houses the offices of the president of México, the Federal Treasury and office of the National Archives. The south & west sides also have impressive classic buildings but they seem to be less important to the city as they house typical businesses rather than federal offices or religious centers. I've been told that the entire old city encompassing the Zócalo & it's surroundings were left to rot for ages up to as recently as the mid-1990s, but the mayor in the late '90's pushed through a massive initiative to restore the area to it's past glory & revitalize the economy there. It's a job VERY well done & I can't imagine how it must have looked after seeing it in it's current impressive condition.

My trip started with the long walk from my apartment to the Centro Historico area. To get to Zócalo I had to walk past the Palacio de Bellas Artes & my beloved Lopez with all it's tasty treats. I had planned to walk by without retracing my steps but then I remembered my aborted attempt to order tacos with chorizo verde from Saturday. I had to stop in to see if the terrific little taco stand had them available & I was in luck. The cook even recognized me & called to me that he had the chorizo verde as I walked up. Even though Toluca is known for this specialty, I think I liked this version on Lopez better.



From there it was only a few blocks to the fringes of the beautiful neighborhood that houses Zócalo. I took a ton of photos on my wanderings today so in the interest of saving space in the post, I put the non-food shots on Flikr & you can see them here: Dave en México al Zócalo. Even before hitting the center of this old city, I noticed a gorgeous old building & had to stop to look. It's now a branch of the public library & I'd love to know what it was originally.

A couple of minutes later I was standing in the center of Zócalo under one of the largest flags I've ever seen. It is truly an awesome sight for anyone who has an affinity for old European architecture. The Palacio Nacional is the most famous building there, but I have a thing for old churches & cathedrals so I made a beeline to the north side of the square to get a closer look.

I'm not Catholic & I don't practice or believe in the religion I was raised with, but it's easy to see how one could be awestruck by divine might when faced with these adjacent masterpieces. The 2 cathedrals almost look like one building, but the one on the east side of the block is much smaller & is faced in red bricks while the western cathedral is huge & looks as if it's made of sandstone. I peeked into the smaller one briefly but I had to spend the better part of an hour in the larger.

The larger cathedral is topped by an ornate dome & it houses several small altars lining the sides, plus a gigantic 3-part golden main altar facing in from the back of the building. The photos I took can't begin to do it justice. Everything is so big & so intricate & so beautiful that it's impossible for me to put it in words. One of the most interesting parts of this cathedral is a smaller altar near the front door with a crucifix depicting a black Jesus.

The story goes that in a long-forgotten era, two thieves were casing the cathedral in the hopes of stealing the collection box. One old priest was always praying at an altar right near the front door, & therefore right near the collection box, so the thieves couldn't get their hands on the money without getting caught. One of the thieves noticed that the priest always kissed the feet of the crucifix on the altar so they decided to put poison on the feet & wait for the priest to kiss them & die. But when the priest kissed Jesus's feet he lived & the thieves died instead. When this happened, the Jesus on the crucifix changed from the classic European hue to African black & has remained that color ever since. I don't know if there's a shred of truth to this tale, but it's quite entertaining.

There is an amazing tour you can take that goes up one bell tower, then across the roofs of the cathedrals to the other bell tower before going back down. Since I took this tour on my last visit & my bad foot hates stairs, I decided to pass this time but I highly recommend it for anyone who visits.

After a long stroll up & down the old streets, I stopped into the Museo Nacional de Arte (better known as MUNAL) to check out some of the classic art housed there. It's in another beautiful old colonial Spanish palace & is actually shaped like a doughnut with an open-air courtyard in the center. The main exhibit right now is an astoundingly complete retrospective of the career of Miguel Prieto. While it was interesting, I much preferred the galleries upstairs showing hundreds of years of paintings, sketches & sculptures from Mexican artists. My favorites were the paintings by José María Velasco but I was impressed in just about every room I wandered through.

On my last trip here my chef friend took me to Pasteleria Ideal, a legendary dessert bakery only a few blocks from the center of Zócalo. I had to stop in to pick up a little something sweet for later & to marvel at their Dia de los Muertos altar in the back of the shop. It was terribly tough to choose what to buy, but I think I'll be happy with my little chocolate cake-type whatever it is.




By this time I wad worked up quite an appetite so it was time for (more) tacos. I recalled a busy taco stand just outside of the old city from my past trip & decided to hunt it down. My memory didn't let me down & I easily found the place with it's huge crowd of hungry locals demanding tacos al pastor carved from the largest spit I've ever seen. I wouldn't say these are the best, but they've very good & extremely popular. Ordering them is complete chaos, as is finding a place to stand & eat them, but anything worth having is worth working for.



I only ate 2 to save room for something I noticed for the first time on my walk this morning despite having traversed Lopez a few times previously: a tiny shop specializing in my obsessed-about cochinita pibil. Cochinita Xew is on Lopez right near the other taco places I've come to love so I don't know how I missed it at first, but I'm very happy to have noticed it today. They do a terrific version of this Yucatan staple & it was full of older woman who laughed at me for only eating 2 small tacos while they had a stack of used plates on the counter indicating the end of a grand feast.



Having totally exhausted myself with hours of non-stop walking & stuffed myself with various pork-filled tacos, it was time to slowly stroll home. While I generally try to avoid being a stereotypical tourist, on days like this I enjoy it thoroughly. Sometimes you just have to soak in the sights & be amazed along with the other gawkers. ¡Besos!

Rain Delay

Everyone I asked told me that the only month when it rains a lot here is September so I'm fairly surprised that it's been raining nearly non-stop since Saturday night. It's forced me to alter some of my plans but it's more of an inconvenience than a problem. Plan #1 was Sunday when I planned to have breakfast with my friend & her family, then do some exploring.

We wanted to get an early start Sunday so I had to be ready to go by 9am. This past Sunday was the day to set clocks back here for Daylight Savings, but I didn't know it as the US does it the first Sunday in November. So I was up & ready to go an hour early, which means an hour before anyone else. It wasn't a problem because after a strong storm Saturday night the sun was shining & I went for a quick coffee while I waited. Once the rest of the city caught up with me, we jumped in a car & headed to Nueva Santa Maria. Basically a working-class suburb of the DF, Nueva Santa Maria is also near where my friend's father grew up & lived for many years. There's a great little food market in the middle with the prepared food stalls in a separate but adjacent room. My friend's father has been patronizing the same stall there for many years, even through a change of ownership, and the entire family heads there for breakfast on a regular basis.

The menu was typical of small food stalls in markets here: tacos, quesadillas, sopes & tostadas with a variety of fillings/toppings, plus pambazos, soups & some breakfast options. The difference in this stall was the amazing quality. All the tortillas they use are made fresh to order including the taco shells which is rare. These thick, rustic tortillas have terrific flavor & because they are thicker than the standard versions you only need one rather than the double-wrap you usually get. Among the many items to grace our table were tacos filled with picadillo (spiced ground beef with potatoes that made me think of Mexican corned beef hash), sopes slathered in molé Poblano, quesadillas with tinga (spicy stewed chicken with onions), tacos with chicharrones & guacamole, tacos filled with eggs scrambled with what looked like ham & peppers, and a steaming bowl of pancita (spicy & rich tripe soup). While we waited for the feast, the father ran outside to buy tamales for later plus churros to snack on while the food was cooking. I washed all this down with café de olla as my compatriots drank fruit shakes. After a quick walk through the rest of the market, we dropped the father off at home for the next leg of our journey.

We headed to "La Lagunilla" which is a big open-air flea market that springs up every Sunday on the fringes of a slightly unsavory neighborhood. There are gorgeous antiques of all kinds, tons of salvaged brass fixtures, knock offs of clothes, music & DVDs, more food (of course) and just about everything imaginable. While we walked, my friend's mother bought us drinks made from fresh lime juice, salt & sparkling mineral water- the perfect refreshment for strolling through the crowded tents. None of us went to buy anything specific, but it's an entertaining scene & well worth a spin through if you happen to be down here on a Sunday.

We further splintered again losing the sister when my friend, her mother & I headed back to my beloved Lopez in Centro Historico. My friend is a chef & wanted to check out one of the 4 large restaurant supply stores nestled among the shops & restaurants between the Palacio de Bellas Artes & the market on the corner of Arcos de Belen. Sadly, all the restaurant supply stores were closed & the rain started again on the ride over so we didn't stay long.

The "Dia de los Muertos" holiday is coming up at the beginning of November & the whole city has been preparing the traditional foods & decorations the entire time I've been here. My friend is putting together a traditional altar for her boss's cafeteria & she mentioned she wanted to get her hands on some old photos of famous dead Mexican icons for the display. I happened to stumble across a vendor with tons of prints of exactly the photos she wanted & as it was close to Lopez, we decided to swing by to see if he was open. We got lucky- most of the shops around him were closed but he was happy to help her find the prints she wanted for the altar (plus one of a bloodied & dying Emiliano Zapata for herself).

Sometime on our journey through La Lagunilla my friend remembered that she left her knives at a house in San Ángel while working a party there the night before so she called ahead & we were off. By the time we got down there it was pouring rain & my friend's mother was in a rush to get home so we took a quick spin through the neighborhood (which was a town outside the city not too long ago) but we didn't get out of the car to poke around. It's one of the places I've meant to see but haven't had the time so I'll move San Ángel to the top of the list for my next trip including a dinner at the restaurant in the Antiguo San Ángel Inn, a classic hacienda (old plantation estate) which is now a pricey hotel & famous restaurant.

After a quick stop to purchase Oaxacan chocolate from a man parked roadside, we dropped the car off at my friend's house & strolled through Lomas de Chapultepec, the neighborhood where my friend lives. In this same part of town you find "Los Pinos" which is the Mexican equivalent of the White House, plus several embassies from major nations housed in glorious mansions. We strolled by Korea, Japan, Brazil & France on our walk & I saw that it must be very good to be an ambassador.

As the rain continued all day yesterday & I have a problematic foot which was acting up, yesterday was spent resting & convalescing. When the rain didn't let up today, I decided to scrap my plan to spend the day wandering around Coyoacan & I headed out to the Museo Nacional de Antropología which is a spectacular place to see artifacts from México's "pre-Columbian" era. Warmed up by a bowl of molé de olla- a rich stew of beef, yuca, zucchini & corn- I was so entranced by the archeological finds that I didn't remember to take a single photo, so my apologies to all of you as you definitely deserve better. But now you have another good excuse to come down here & see for yourself. ¡Besos!

Palacio de Bellas Artes

Since I missed yesterday, I'll start with my mini celebration for finishing my 3 weeks of classes from last night then write about today's adventure. So strap yourself in for another lengthy weekend post, you lucky dogs!

For weeks my good friend here has been promising (threatening?) to take me to the Barracuda Diner right near my apartment. Last night seemed like the perfect night to make good as we were both exhausted & it's not only close but very laid back. She claims Barracuda is the only diner in the D.F., and I haven't seen anything to prove otherwise. It's a very surreal Mexican take on a modern remake of a classic 1950s diner / ice cream parlor. The folks behind the bar dress like old-time soda jerks while the waiters dress in bowling shirts. The music was mostly Mexican remakes of classic 1950s US hits, but sadly drifted into 1980s pop by the time we left.

And the menu was really odd. The appetizers were split between classic Mexican dishes & Mexicanized diner standards. The bulk of the main courses were hamburgers & hot dogs, most of which were also Mexicanized. For example, I started with "fideo seco" which is a classic home-style Mexican dish made up of small, spiky vermicelli-esque noodles cooked in a chipotle sauce until the liquid is totally absorbed & it can live up to it's name ("seco" means dry). Then the noodles get topped with the ubiquitous crema, cotija crumbles & sliced avocado. Very tasty but I'm willing to bet everything I have that no diner in the 1950s in the US ever served it.

The burger choices all had toppings that were either distinctly Mexican or what a Mexican who hadn't eaten many burgers in the US would think was authentically American. Take the "Cholita" topped with Oaxacan cheese, guacamole, chipotle sauce & "cebollas crunchy" or fried onion crisps. The burger itself reminded me of the ones I tried as a child in London before the realization set in that the English have no clue how to make a hamburger, but combined with the toppings the overall result was pleasant if almost completely unlike a US hamburger.

They strangely only offered Heineken or Paulaner Hefe-Weiss for beer options so I tried a Chaparrito which is an uncarbonated pineapple flavored soda that was popular here in the 1950s but is quite rare now. I much preferred the tequila & fresh-made lemonade I had to banish the taste of the Chaparrito, but I'm always happy to have the chance taste something new. Despite their "legendary" shakes & malteds, I had eaten my fill & departed sans-dessert to crawl into bed.

Today my plan was to walk back to the Centro Historico district to check out the Palacio de Bellas Artes. It didn't hurt that the Palacio is right on Lopez, the street where I ate so well only 2 weekends ago. A day of sightseeing & feasting was in the works so I woke up very excited.

The Palacio de Bellas Artes is one of the most famous buildings here & is also the nation's premiere performance arts theater, hosting an impressive array of opera, classical music & dance. On top of the murals by legendary Mexican artists on the walls in the main chamber, it houses 2 museums & one of them currently has a terrific show of El Greco paintings on display. The chance to combine seeing an architectural masterpiece and an exhibit of one of my favorite artists at the same time is too good to pass up.





The building itself lived up to the hype, gorgeous both inside & out (as the photos here poorly display). The exhibit had spectacular examples of El Greco's finest borrowed from several museums in Spain & the personal collection of Carlos Slim, the cellular tycoon who is México's richest man & one of the 3 richest in the world. My only complaint is that the paintings were lit terribly & everyone there was complaining about the glare that made it tough to see an entire painting. We had to look at parts of most paintings while moving around to shift the glare to places we've already seen. My favorite room had portraits on 3 walls of Jesus & the 12 apostles arranged in the same order as in "The Last Supper" & they were the only ones lit perfectly.




Right outside the Palacio is a beautiful park where I dallied for a while & watched a parade of demonic floats go by on one of the main streets in the area while munching on a small "leche quermada" ice (which sounds much better in Spanish than the "burnt goat's milk" translation). At roughly the half-way mark in my walk home, I passed another park in which an excellent mambo band was performing & I stayed for several songs to listen & watch the massive flock of dancing people crowding the central gallery of the park.



I saved the bulk of the food talk for the end because I decided to make today a day of tacos. I vowed to stop & sample one at every stand I saw with a good crowd as I wandered to the Palacio & back. My first stop (& the only stop pre-Palacio) was Taquería Gonzalez where I loved the ones I had last time around. I had a suadero taco (brisket-like beef) with diced potatoes as the chorizo & nopales were arriving at the same time I was & wouldn't be ready for a while. It was every bit as excellent as I remembered.



After the parade passed, I wandered back to Lopez where I spotted a large group huddled around a taquería similar to Gonzalez so I got on line. I was intrigued when I saw the sign touting chorizo verde for the first time since I left Toluca but I was too late & the woman ahead of me got the last green sausage taco. I settled for carne de res en enchilada. "En enchilada" means coated in spices- not rolled into enchiladas- & is a popular treatment for both thin cuts of meat & for dried fruits. This little taquería gives Gonzalez a run for it's money both figuratively & literally.

A little further up I saw 5 women eating tacos al pastor at a tiny counter & was drawn in. I devoured my 1 small taco in 3 bites & enjoyed it very much, although it wasn't quite as good as El Huequito a few blocks away. At 5 pesos it cost me roughly 40¢ at the current 13 - 1 rate & blows away anything I could get at home for that price.

On my walks to & from Centro Historico I had noticed a few stands selling tacos de birria which is a specialty from Jalisco so I knew I had to stop for my first taste of this treat on my way home. I couldn't tell you what the spices are, but huge pieces of pork are simmered until tender in a rich broth then hacked into small pieces & made in to tacos as small as tacos al pastor. You can also opt to have your diced birria tossed into a bowl filled with the cooking liquid instead of taco-ized but that looked like it would be too filling for my needs today. The sweet older woman running the stand was so concerned that a man my size only intended to eat one taco that she offered me one for free. I didn't have the heart to turn her down, but I insisted of paying for both as the entire tab was only 8 pesos.

Then I was off to the park where I witnessed the mambo invasion. Ringing the park are stands selling all kinds of trinkets, oddities &, of course, foods. A man coating the delicious local pink pine nuts in sugar using a large copper pan offered me a still-warm sample & I had to buy a small bag although I don't know when I'll get around to eating them. Then I saw I sight I had never seen before & had to make my final taco stop.



There was a packed stand selling many of the typical tacos I love, but at one end they had a stack of what appeared to be green tempura patties. When I finally got through the throng, I was told they are "tortas de brocoli". Basically they are patties made of well-seasoned broccoli with a little bit of cheese & egg as a binder, then fried in a fluffy batter & quickly thrown on a griddle to reheat them when one is ordered. The tortilla was woefully overwhelmed by the torta which was roughly the same diameter, but as I managed to grab a stool I decided to just rip apart the torta & eat it without bothering with the taco shell. I did have to use the tortilla to eat the "torta de califlor" I noticed at the last minute & ordered to keep me company while walking away, although it was more like a wax paper wrapper for my purposes than part of the dish. Excellent stuff & unlike anything I've had here yet.



A few blocks later after fighting off the urge to bite a chunk out of the roasted baby goat in the photo above, I couldn't resist a pastry stand in the doorway of a small market with it's sign advertising "Pastel Imposible". Even though "Impossible Cake" sounds like something a comic book superhero would eat, it's really a traditional Mexican dessert consisting of a layer of flan balancing on a layer of rich chocolate cake. The impossible part is having the 2 layers keep separate while cooking at the same time, but still have the ability to keep their shape when cut into slices. I grabbed a slice to entertain me while writing this post & I have to give myself credit for an excellent decision. ¡Besos!

Healthy Diet?

Today was a fairly uninteresting day from a story-telling standpoint so I figured I would address a common question I've gotten from a lot of people about the safety of the things I eat & drink here. Tales of "Montezuma's Revenge" have been circling long before my first trip south of the border & it seems like many people have heard stories of someone who went to México & got terribly ill. So I'm going to go over the 3 prevailing rumors to address the fears & my actual experiences.

1. You can't drink the water.
This is the one that I think has the most credibility although it's been greatly exaggerated. While I rarely drink tap water here, I always brush my teeth with it (including rinsing) & I have drank tap water at a couple of hotels that claim to have specific water filtration systems for their sinks. I have drinks with ice in them on a regular basis, plus I've had more than my share of café de olla from street vendors which must be brewed with tap water. Just today, I had several small glasses of a drink called "agua jamaica" which is essentially a cold-brewed hibiscus tea in a restaurant that had to have used tap water as the drinks were free as part of a 3-course lunch for 45 pesos, or roughly $4. I can not recall a single time I got sick from any of these "risks" so I would say that with some common sense the water is not to be feared.

2. You shouldn't eat fresh produce.
Total crap based on the fallacy that Mexicans don't wash their produce. Most places scrub their produce thoroughly so you have little or no risk at all. I've eaten a phenomenal variety of fruits & vegetables in a similar variety of settings & I've never had a problem. Not only have I been safe, but the flavors in the produce here can boggle the mind of a New Yorker. For example, when in Oaxaca with my friends Tim & Susan, Susan purchased sliced cucumber with lime juice & hot sauce from a street vendor. She told us we had to taste it & after inhaling hers we were so impressed we needed to buy a second round. The cucumbers were SO cucumber-y that we couldn't stop with one serving. This is a common reaction I have to the produce here.

3. You should avoid food from street carts.
You know my answer to this one. Besides, if you've ever eaten a hot dog from a cart in NYC you've taken a far greater risk in my opinion. I eat from street carts often & I've done it everywhere in this country I've visited, & I have to recommend that any food lover do the same. Especially if the cart has a lot of business which ensures not only rapid turnover of ingredients but also flavors delicious enough to inspire fans when there is a ton of competition. I've long said the standardized laws for food cleanliness in the US are overly broad & often nonsensical so I have no fear eating meat that has been stored at ambient temperature for hours, or anything cooked using methods that are open to the elements. If pork cooked to medium on a spit on the street is wrong, I ain't never gonna be right.

All this said, I did eat green sausage from a roadside shack so maybe I've built up a tolerance to these kinds of things. In which case you'd be wise to eat only at hotel restaurants & to drink only bottled water from Europe. ¡Besos!

Better Late Than Never

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, I missed school yesterday but didn't care much as it hasn't been going well. I got a strange email later in the day saying that they decided that I was right & that the classes they stuck me in weren't appropriate for me & they arranged for private instruction which was supposed to start that morning. It would have been nice if they decided this with more than 4 days out of 15 to go, or if they made any effort to discuss this with me so I could be sure to show up. But I'm glad for the opportunity to salvage something out of the time & money I've dedicated to this endeavor.

The class today was exactly what I had hoped for since signing up. The teacher actually wanted to hear what I already knew & where I learned it, plus what my goals for the lessons are. Based on less than 5 minutes of discussion, we jumped into conversation-driven lessons which made much more sense to me. I'm actually excited for school tomorrow for the first time since my disappointment on day one. Keep your fingers crossed that I'll manage to pack in a ton of knowledge in the 2 short days of lessons I have left.

After class I found myself wandering down a beautifully landscaped median in between the 2 lanes of Álvaro Obregón, one of the bigger streets near my apartment. Each block has benches, gardens & a small tiled fountain in the middle. I don't really know where I was going, but I worked up an appetite & began to wander towards a side street in search of lunch. When a woman stopped to ask me directions in English without even attempting to speak to me in Spanish (I apparently radiate gringo), I decided on my goal.

I would walk down streets I haven't yet traversed generally towards the tented outdoor stalls where I scored my pambazo last week. If I stumbled across something that looked good, I would stop. If not I knew a good meal would be waiting for me at the end regardless. A lot of places weren't yet open despite being after 1pm & I peered into some places that were even a bit too seedy for me so I made it all the way back to the tents. But instead of getting the same thing I loved last time, I made a bold move & ordered something I've never had: a "tlacoyo".

I've never had one for 2 reasons- first is that I had no idea what it is. Second is that it's not easy to pronounce a "T" & "L" together especially when the rest of the sentence is in a foreign language. I can't believe I waited so long, although I did have to repeat my order 3 times before I expressed myself clearly enough.

A tlacoyo begins with the same handful of blue corn masa that starts a quesadilla. Instead of pressing it flat, it's first worked into a football-shaped mass then an opening is poked into the middle & it gets stuffed with a choice of filling (I went with refried beans). It's carefully shaped into a flatter oval in such a way that the filling stays safely locked inside & grilled until the outside is crusty & the inside is slightly molten. To finish it off, it's topped with crumbled cotija cheese, lettuce, cilantro, julienned poblano pepper & spicy salsa. It reminded me of a Salvadoran treat called a "pupusa" which I learned to love years ago but haven't had in ages. It may have taken me more than 35 years to have my first tlacoyo, but I imagine my second will come much sooner. ¡Besos!

Time Out & Tamales

For those of you wondering where I've been the last 2 days, and even for those of you happy not to have to read yet another daily update of the minutiae of my trip, let me explain. I've been "borrowing" bandwidth from 2 sources near my apartment & since Sunday morning both have largely been down. On occasion one has been up briefly but not long enough or with enough bandwidth for me to do much (apparently I'm not the only leech around here). But all seems to be back to normal now so settle in or click away while you have the chance.

Sunday I was invited to a BBQ at my friend's house (which I'm told I should refer to as a "parrillada"). She lives with her parents in one of the posher parts of town & they have a beautiful house surrounded by walls for safety & privacy. In fact, there's even a guardhouse out front paid for by all the houses on the block as a deterrent to the segment of the population who makes a living off of kidnapping the families of successful people & holding them for ransom. As I've heard said so many times while I'm here, "This is not New York, this is México," which is the general explanation I get for the unsavory side of an otherwise fascinating & enjoyable city. Despite the beauty & wonder I've experienced here it is a gigantic & somewhat unruly city and not nearly as safe as my hometown has become, and it's good for me to be occasionally reminded of this as I tend to get overly bold otherwise.

With the criminal element nowhere to be found even a sudden cold snap couldn't deter from a sumptuous feast in a beautiful setting. Once inside the walls, the house extends out over a potion of the property creating a space usable both as a car park & as a sheltered outdoor event space. So the curtains were dropped to keep the cold breeze out & the meat was quickly marinated in preparation for the gas-fired grill. There were 2 different thin cuts of steak, quesadillas, volcans (toasted tortillas topped with cheese which seemed like unfolded quesadillas to me & that observation caused me to be lightly mocked), sausages, nopal cactus & small onions that reminded me of scallions with giant bulbs all grilled outdoors next to us. There were also beans stewed with diced vegetables & bacon, creamy rice cooked in a casserole with un-battered chiles rellenos, chicharrones and several spicy salsas for dressing the goods. Not to mention beer, wine, vodka & family-made mezcal for washing it all down. Everything was tasty & I particularly loved the rice dish which I had never even heard of before but contained both perfectly cooked rice & the first un-fried chile relleno I've had the pleasure to taste. I also got to meet a lovely couple set to get married in 3 weeks who were in a slight disagreement caused by the presence of 2 strippers at his bachelor party the night before. I tried to help his case by arguing that the host was worried that if he only hired one she would get lonely, then I wisely kept out of it after that meager contribution.

Earlier in the day, I stumbled across one of the many women around the city that set up temporary shops out of the back of cars on opportune street corners to sell traditional Oaxacan foods. As famous as Oaxaca is for molé, it is just as loved for it's cheese & chocolate, not to mention an array of other tempting treats. I purchased 2 types of cheese and a small box of chocolate to see if her goods lived up to the spectacular tastes I enjoyed while in Oaxaca in late June. Since I ran off to the parrillada soon after, I had to wait for Monday afternoon to sample my purchases.

The traditional cheese from Oaxaca is somewhat similar to fresh mozzarella, and I'm sure it's made in a similar process. It comes in balls formed by pulling the curds around themselves & can be torn off into ribbons, then further pulled into strings if one desires. The version I had was very fresh-tasting which is a great sign- I've tried this cheese both fresh-made the same day & a few days old, and like mozzarella it's vastly superior when fresher. The other cheese I bought was a double cream that was nice but not what I expected (although it made for a fine sandwich with a touch of mustard & sliced marinated chiles). The chocolate was from the one major brand I noticed down there so not as good as the hand-made stuff I brought home from the Oaxaca market, but it's decent & I'll get more for my friends in NYC who have requested a fix.

Last night I was invited to have some of the leftovers from the parrillada & on the way there my friend told me we were going to check to see if the tamal woman was out (Spanish note: tamal is singular, tamales is plural & there's no such thing as "a tamale"). One of the things she has raved to me about is the "torta de tamal" or tamal sandwich & I've been fascinated by the concept. It couldn't be just a tamal on a roll, could it? Doesn't there have to be more? No, but it's strangely compelling despite being the single starchiest mouthful I've ever eaten.

For those of you living on another planet, a tamal is corn meal mixed with a rich fat (usually lard) so it can be formed into a shape & stuffed with a variety of meats, vegetables & sauces and then steamed (usually in corn husks) until delicious. All too often in the US they're improperly made so they wind up dry & flavorless or so dense & heavy that they feel like eating lead weights. These, however, were the best I've had- both light & moist with the perfect ratio of stuffing to corn meal. The torta de tamal made sense with these as it's the perfect way to eat one on the run without getting one's hands dirty. I had my torta with a "tamal verde" (stuffed with spicy green sauce but no other vegetable or meat) so I had to buy 2 others to try out today. I came away with a "tamal Oaxaca"- stuffed with chicken stewed in red sauce & steamed in banana leaves instead of corn husks- & a "tamal de molé" filled here with pork cooked in molé Poblano. Since I slept through my alarm today & missed school, I got to have one for breakfast & one for lunch & I'm happy to report both were spectacular.

The amazing thing about this woman is that she is well known to all segments of the population here. There was a line including both doctors in white coats & name tags from the nearby hospital and manual laborers still dressed in clothes dirty from a long day's work. Not to mention housewives buying several tamales to take home plus a affluent-appearing couple happily munching as they stood next to the cart. Despite the disparity in wealth in this city, good food can equalize all castes & the perfectly prepared tamales from this stand appeal to all the classes in a way that would make the staunchest socialist weep with joy. I only wish she was within walking distance of my apartment so I could participate in the coming together of the citizenry more often. ¡Besos!

Castillo de Chapultepec

As is my habit on the weekends, this looks to be a long post so prepare yourself. Last night around 7pm my power went out. To be precise, all the power on my square block went out (if it's actually triangular do you still say "square block"?). I've noticed a trend in my neighborhood that every few days a different block loses power, so I guess it was our turn. Since I was powerless & my friend was at the end of another in a string of long days, we decided to go somewhere we could eat well & slowly drink. In the DF the best choice for this requirement is a "cantina".

Bars here tend to have little or no food, plus very loud music and generally thick crowds of revelers. Restaurants almost always have at least beer for alcohol but they tend to encourage you to leave once you've finished eating to turn over your table to the next customers. Cantinas exist in the space in between- they have extensive drink options, quiet music and/or sports on TV, a solid menu of food choices which include both snacks & meals, plus the laid back atmosphere where you can linger at length & order more whenever the urge or necessity strikes. They generally also have a 3-course prix fixe menu available in the afternoon pre-dinner, but I haven't tried that option yet.

My friend chose Xel-Ha which is on a busy strip in Condesa & is a little fancier than the average cantina although no more formal. I noticed that the name is pronounced quite similar to the DF slang word for beer "chela" & wondered if that was chosen on purpose but I was told Xel-Ha is actually a town on the Yucatan Peninsula. Roughly 1/3 of the food menu reflected the Yucatan influence including a very good cochinita pibil taco, although not quite as good as at my previously-raved-about favorite. To start, we shared Spanish sausages cooked in a pool of melted manchego cheese served in a ceramic dish still sizzling from the oven. Two takes on the aforementioned tacos followed along with a small bowl of "sopa de lima", which is a savory chicken soup accented with a ton of fresh lime juice & fried tortilla strips. All the while we sipped on tequila "a la bandera" which comes with small glasses of lemonade & sangrita (spiced tomato juice), mezcal & beer.

Just because I was surprised to see it on the menu, I ordered a Caesar salad. It was prepared table-side in anachronistic European style with perfect efficiency & precision. A truly excellent rendition & I learned as I expressed disbelief that it was a cantina staple & always prepared with this formality. Later on, we shared a flan on the recommendation of our waiter. It was outstanding & the best I've ever had. Our waiter confided in us that the secret was using marscapone cheese in the mix which is definitely unusual.

The power was still out when I got home, but it was back when I awoke. Today my plan was to head to the center of the gigantic Bosque de Chapultepec to climb up to the ancient fortress at the top called Castillo de Chapultepec which doubles now as the Museum of National History. "Bosque" literally means "forest" but tends to refer to national parks here. This inner-city park is broken into 3 sections & each looks to be roughly the size of Central Park. In the middle on top of the one high hill is "El Castillo" which means the castle.




I believe it was originally a fort & either at the same time or soon after also the home of the ruler of México, whether an appointment from Spain or an elected President (you may need to double-check my history here). It's now a very popular tourist site & one of the most beloved & recognizable landmarks. I may have mentioned both the high elevation & astonishing pollution here, but I had long since acclimatized to both. However when walking up to this very high perch I felt both & was winded much faster than I had expected. Half of my walk up was done with labored breath.





I was well rewarded when I reached the top. The castle is kept in pristine condition & offers 360-degree panoramic views of the city. There is a lovely garden with a fountain to your left as you enter the grounds (after paying 51 pesos, of course) & the long building stretches from there to the precipice where the tallest part of the castle dominates the skyline (I think there's only 1 building in the city that rises higher than the tower of the castle). All of the rooms of the castle are now galleries of national treasures & historic artifacts, mostly of Spanish decent although there is a small room dedicated to the Aztecs who pre-dated the Europeans. I wasn't impressed by most of the exhibits, but the building itself was breathtaking as were the views. Past the many acres of tree tops in the park the buildings begin, and on the horizon the shadowy mountain peaks that ring the city are visible.




On my walk home as soon as I left the park, I smelled the tell-tale aroma of rotisserie chicken & recalled passing by a place on my way in that seemed to specialize in it. By now, the chickens were ready & a line had formed. There are a few places in the DF known for this specialty & they are incredibly popular despite the predominance of pork as the meat in the local diet. There was a line outside of this place so I got on it (or in it if you prefer, damn you non-New Yorkers). Most people were getting whole chickens to go, but there was a short metal counter on the sidewalk where people could eat there, & tacos listed on the short menu. I ordered 2 tacos & got a chicken leg & half of a breast- bones & all- on 2 tortillas. Delicious but the only time I've seen bone-in tacos.

On my way home I saw a little tortilla shop which churns out traditional hot, fresh tortillas all day long. Since I'm going to a BBQ tomorrow, I called to see if I could pick some up for the host. Not all tortillas are the same as most big and/or modern producers skip a step called "nixtamal" where the ground corn is soaked in lime juice before being turned into the masa which can either be cooked into tortillas or used to make tamales. This place does things the old-fashioned way so my friend way happy to have me grab 2 kilos. I also learned a valuable lesson for storing fresh tortillas- as soon as I got home, I unwrapped them & separated them so they wouldn't stick together. Once they cooled, I re-stacked & re-wrapped everything & put the bundle in the refrigerator.



After running out to grab some wine for the BBQ, I was hungry again & noticed that the little lonchería across from my pad had "Chiles en Nogada" on the day's menu so I stopped in. A seasonal take on chiles rellenos that came highly recommended by my chef friend, chiles en nogada are made with a pepper that has a short harvest season, plus comes dressed with pomegranate seeds which are also only available for a brief window here so the dish is usually only available in September with some places dragging it out into October. Instead of cheese, the pepper is stuffed with ground meat seasoned with dried fruit & studded with small pieces of potatoes, then battered & fried as normal. It comes dressed in a cold cream & walnut sauce, plus the sprinkling of pomegranate seeds over everything. The final product has the red from the pomegranate, the green from the pepper & the white from the sauce to represent the colors of the Mexican flag. I have to admit that I'm not a fan & I found the cold cream on the hot pepper a little off-putting, but I'm glad I got to try this rare classic.

I did, however, love my precursor to the chile en nogada: a bowl of "sopa de medula". Literally translated as "spine soup" it is a rich broth fortified with large amounts of bone marrow. Marrow is gelatinous & has an intense meaty flavor which many people don't enjoy, but I'm rather fond of it so this soup more than made up for my disappointment with my chile. I may well stay in tonight as I'm exhausted from my hike earlier today & very well fed. I could use a restful evening to ensure I show up at the BBQ feeling spry & charming. ¡Besos!

El 10

Today was the day of our class trip to lunch during the "conversation" period in school. Besides me, my Russian/Israeli friend Artem, our Swiss classmate Arne & our teacher Héctor, a woman from another class named Sara joined us as well. Somehow we chose to go to an Argentine restaurant named "El 10" after soccer star Diego Maradona's jersey number (a sign near the door proclaims that while Brazilian star Pelé was the king of soccer, the god is from Argentina). I had heard of El 10 before as my friends here are quite fond of it so I was pretty happy with the selection despite the many excellent Mexican options nearby.

It was a bit of a walk & we chatted in Spanish as best we could on our way. We arrived shortly before they were open, but they let us sit at our table to wait for the staff to prepare for the rush (within an hour of opening there was a wait for tables, and this was lunch on a weekday). I was surprised to see the menu proudly proclaim that their beef was 100% US Angus instead of the legendary Argentine pampas-raised version, but I suppose Texas is a lot closer.

We had some terrific Argentine sausage to start (Héctor is a huge fan) & we ordered a large platter of "Arrachera" or flank steak for the main attraction. It was definitely some of the best Argentine food I've had this far north & surprisingly inexpensive. Sara is from Texas & despite being tiny & slender, she literally drank the juices from her empty plate when the steak was done. Very impressive. As we still had a little room left, we ordered a round of "Provoleta" which is grilled provolone cheese topped here with grilled tomato slices. We washed it down with Argentina's own Quilmes beer & a glass of good Malbec for yours truly as I felt compelled to eat my steak with this classic pairing.

Then the talk of mezcal came up & we decided it was a good idea to continue our education over this indigenous alcohol. For those of you who don't know, mezcal is any alcohol distilled from cactus. Technically tequila is "mezcal de tequila" but as it has a much grander reputation than it's siblings, tequila producers don't advertise this fact. There is a huge range of mezcals as the flavor changes depending on the region, cactus, distilling technique & possible infusion with herbs or other agents. I have a fondness for some of the earthier & more challenging mezcals & they've leap-frogged tequila on my list of preferred spirits (one distilled through lamb & infused with prunes has a hint of Moroccan tagine to my palate). Sadly, the excellent mezcal bar nearby was closed for 2 more hours & we decided to go our separate ways. Don't fret- I've already stopped into "La Botica", the mezcal bar in question, and it won't be my last visit of my trip. I'm still working on a good bottle or 2 to bring home with me, but it's not as easy here as it was in Oaxaca which is more or less the center of the non-tequila mezcal world. ¡Besos!

Not Every One's a Winner

Today was fairly dull by my standards so far. After class I ran errands & did laundry (at a place called "Coin Drop" in English instead of Spanish that actually had no coins or dropping as I had to pay 30 pesos per basket to a woman at the counter which included washer, dryer, soap, bleach & fabric softener). But I'd like to share a couple of things I've noticed which I think are interesting.

When the sanitation department sends it's guys around to pick up garbage, they don't just grab bags that have been left on the curb. Instead they have one guy who walks with the truck ringing a large town-crier bell, & people rush out of houses & businesses to hand over the trash. It reminds me so much of the "bring out your dead..." scene in "Monty Python and the Holy Grail" that I really wish I had an old man & a wheelbarrow handy.

I've been pleased to notice that despite a preponderance of 7-11 & Oxxo convenience shops, they don't seem to get as much business as the guys who wheel out carts to street corners & sell drinks chilled by blocks of ice, prepackaged snacks, cigarettes & phone cards. There's a fellow literally right outside my front door & I've taken to chatting with him when we both have a little spare time as do quite a few of the neighborhood regulars. I've never had a pleasant conversation with the person behind the counter at a 7-11 & I suspect I never will so I hope these guys continue to rise above their corporate-owned counterparts. ¡Besos!

On D.F. & Coffee

It's amazing the difference a day can make. Today's class had a lot more discussion & a lot less grammar so not only am I in a much better mood but I also retained more from today than normal. My Russian/Israeli friend & I are both trying to push the classes in this direction so I'm hopeful again that things are heading down the right path. A sign that we're making progress is that I convinced the class & teacher that we need to go out into the world for our "conversation" period so we made plans to go out for lunch together on Friday with the possibility of a stop for mezcal afterwords. Pray for them if they go down that road with me.

Buoyed by a good day at school, I decided to stroll through Parque México when we got out & take in some sights. Once I got through to the other side I wandered down a stretch of a fairly major street that I hadn't traversed yet (Sonora in case you're curious). From a block away I picked up the scent of good fresh-brewed coffee but I thought I had to be imagining it.

Despite México's significant crop of good coffee beans, there is very little coffee culture here. Most people are satisfied with instant coffee if they drink it at all & even most of the espresso is really thin, bitter & bland. There is "café de olla" (literally "coffee from a pot") which is enriched with piloncillo, the unrefined local sugar which imparts hints of cinnamon & is a major component of the excellent chocolate from Oaxaca, but it masks the shortcomings of the coffee more often than it creates a harmonious sum that's greater than it's parts. It doesn't help that for most of the last year & change I've been a regular at Abraco, a coffee joint near Porchetta which has the best coffee I've ever drank & a penchant for playing old Brazilian music to match it's Brazilian name.

I tracked down the source of the enticing aroma to a small shop called "Bolsa do Brasil". The synergy grabbed me & I had to order an espresso, or "expreso" as they write it here. While it wasn't quite up to Abraco's insanely high standards, it was a very nice espresso & the barista was genuinely interested in my opinion as I sipped. For the rest of my trip, this will be my place for coffee whenever the urge strikes me. And speaking of synergy, while I was having my espresso at Bolsa do Brasil my good friend Tim was at Abraco & sent me an email from his fancy phone.



After a brief stop home I decided to see if a tented open-air market not far from my apartment was running today. This isn't your typical weekend street fair junk: most of the stalls are satellites for high-end stores in the surrounding neighborhoods & the products (& their prices) reflect it. The one time I walked through in the past I was impressed by the looks of the extensive food section- which is definitely more street oriented than the other items- & I wanted to have something new for lunch. I was torn between a couple of stalls & they are so jumbled together that it was hard to tell where I was able to order from when I sat.



My first attempt to sit put me in the wrong place, so I ordered a little something so as not to look like a tourist. I had my second chile relleno taco of this trip & while this one wasn't fried to order, the filling was more flavorful that the one I ate previously so I was happy with it. I then scooted over to the next stall to order my real goal: a pambazo.

Pambazos are a sandwich I've only seen in the DF & even here not that often. It starts out with the same bread as a torta- the typical Mexican sandwich- but instead of piling on tons of different meats, pambazos come with a thinner layer of filling that gets molded into the bread. My selection was "chicharron prensado" which literally means "pressed pork skin" but is actually diced pork skin stewed in a red sauce. The woman carefully formed it into the bottom slice of my roll them laid it meat-side down on the griddle next to the unadorned top half (you can just barely seem them in the bottom right hand corner of the photo above). After a couple of minutes of grilling, the halves came together & the whole thing was dunked French Dip-style into a bowl of gravy-esque sauce, then placed back on the griddle. Once it was done heating through, another woman opened it back up to pour on my choice of sauce, a sprinkling of cotija cheese (which reminds me of a mild feta), a handful of iceberg lettuce and a squirt of mayo. It's a little messy to eat but well worth the sacrifice of napkins one needs to make it through. Besides being tasty, it's fun to say "pambazo" as often as possible. ¡Besos!

Young Again, Kind Of

As I alluded to in earlier posts, I'm not thrilled with my school. My frustrations continue despite my best efforts & I'm losing patience, especially when I realize that I'm essentially half way done with my 3 weeks of class. They continue to push technical grammar which is great for people taking a slow & regimented progression but it's largely useless for me. In fact it confuses me & makes me less confident with my ability to speak.

What I want (& what the school's literature led me to believe I was going to get) is lessons on usage followed by extended chances to practice with a teacher moderating the discussion & correcting our mistakes. What I actually get reminds me so much of high school that I find myself staring out the window & wondering when class will be over. I'm not retaining much & I can't really apply a lot of what I do remember. I'm blowing off my homework as I type because I really can't be bothered to write down sentences using bitransitive verbs & demonstrating proper use of subjects, direct objects, indirect objects, "cliticos de pronombres", etc. It's a shame but I really feel like the teenager I was who hated school & was angry at the world because I was forced to attend daily. It's even more of a shame because I truly want to learn Spanish but I don't see it happening this way.

So to cheer myself up I decided to buy myself a new book. I just finished reading "The Devil in the White City" and I loved it (I'm an unabashed history buff) but it left me with nothing in English to read. I had planned to try to read a book in Spanish next but with my current level of frustration I thought a book in English would soothe me. There's a well known book store in Condesa called "El Pendulo" so I strolled down a street called Nuevo Leon after class which runs along the gorgeous Parque España right to the store. It's a great place with a huge range of books & laid out to encourage people to take books off the shelves & read right there. The staff were really helpful & nobody mocked me when I chose a great work of Spanish literature translated into English- "Love in the Time of Cholera" by Gabriel García Marquez. Well, I mocked myself but nobody listened. I hope to be able to read it in it's proper language one day as I plan to continue my Spanish education beyond my current school regardless of this experience so far.

My food story of the day brings me to a strange place- an Italian restaurant in a posh neighborhood here in the DF. My friend really wanted to take me there & as I had no other plans I figured it would be a nice change from all the Mexican food I've been eating. They had a nice Lambrusco by the bottle at a very good price & we shared a terrific goat cheese & walnut salad as an appetizer. For my main course I had a tortured debate with myself. My favorite non-stuffed pasta is probably Bucatini all'Amatriciana and they had Fettuccine Amatriciana on the menu. So do I try one of my favorites in this very non-Italian setting, or do I go with a simple pasta that nobody can get wrong? I went with the Amatriciana and I'm sorry to say I chose wrong. It wasn't terrible- they cooked bacon with onions then tossed in some marinara so you had the makings of a fine dish- but it certainly wasn't Amatriciana & the pasta was overcooked. I'd go back for wine & snacks, but I don't think I'll have pasta again until I return to NYC. For those of you who don't know this dish but would like to try it, the best I've had in NYC is oddly on the Upper East Side at a small family-run restaurant called Carino on 2nd Avenue near 89th Street. It's been years so I can't vouch for the current quality, but when I dated a woman who lived nearby I went almost weekly. And if you know the dish & have a favorite place of your own please share it with me, or just take me there to welcome me home in November. ¡Besos!

Holy Molé

I think my decadent weekend caught up to me last night. I woke up only a couple of hours after falling asleep with a terrible stomach pain. I couldn't fall back to sleep & when my alarm rang I got ready for school despite having not slept in hours. Then I decided not to bother & went back to bed. Don't worry- it was a passing thing & by late morning I felt fine. But I decided to lay low today to rest just to make sure I'm recovered.

Being raised the way I was, when I'm ailing I yearn for chicken soup. And there's a restaurant right across the street from my apartment which I've been meaning to try and is always filled with people eating soup. So when I was feeling plucky I meandered across the street to check it out.



It's the kind of place you see all over the DF, the menu changes daily with a few staples that stick throughout the week. There's a set cycle so if you develop a fondness for a particular dish, you know which day they serve it. I was planning on just having a bowl of "sopa de pasta" or chicken noodle soup, but I saw plates of one of my favorites rolling out of the cooking area in the center of the joint & I was moved to order (I realize I frequently refer to foods I have here as "favorites" but I do truly love the cuisine). Today is "Molé Poblano" day at this little lonchería.

Molé is a word for a slow-cooked thick sauce. There are many types of molé and "molé poblano" means molé from the town of Puebla. Because most of the Mexican immigrants in NYC are from Puebla, when New Yorkers hear the word "molé" they think of this version. However, Mexicans usually associate molé with Oaxaca, home of molé negro (along with several other variants usually named for their color) which is made of 30 different ingredients and takes 2 - 3 days to cook. Many food writers put molé negro among the greatest culinary accomplishments in the world, and I would agree wholeheartedly.

But I digress. My molé today was the poblano kind. This dish involves 15 - 20 ingrediants & is usually cooked for an entire day, then served the next. One of the primary flavors is Mexican raw chocolate which is unsweetened and has no dairy so it gives a wonderful earthy richness to the sauce. I received a plate with a chicken leg & breast that had been slowly simmered in the molé until falling-off-the-bone tender with a stack of warm tortillas and a couple of slices of bread on the side. It might have been a little more than I was looking for considering my weakened state, but it was too good to deny & I enjoyed it thoroughly. As I still feel fine I'm going to say I made the right decision. ¡Besos!

Green Meat

My friends here asked if I had ever eaten "chorizo verde" which literally translates to green sausage. I said I considered myself quite fortunate to be able to honestly answer no. So I was told we were going to take a drive out of the DF to México State where on the way to Toluca we were going to stop for lunch in Marquesa (not much different from driving out of NYC to upstate NY).

Toluca is small industrial town but is fairly important to Mexico City. It has quite a few factories & breweries, and I'm told a lot of major businesses in the DF have satellite offices and/or manufacturing concerns there. There is also a new airport that is slowly eating into some of the massive volume of flights that have always gone into, out of or though Mexico City. I'd estimate the drive to take 1 - 1.5 hours if we didn't stop for lunch on the way (but if we were doing it during mid-week traffic madness who knows how long it would take).

Right before you see Toluca when driving from the DF, you hit Marquesa. Marquesa is a national park & the fringes cross the highway. You would know you were in Marquesa even if there weren't signs because where it hits the highway, people have built long lines of shacks on both sides dedicated to selling snacks & meals made up of local delicacies. Top among these foods is the dreaded (by me) & beloved (by my friends & many locals) chorizo verde.

I don't know how my friends chose which shack to stop at as they all looked identical to me & advertised the same specialties. But the choice was made & I saw the chorizo hanging in front of our destination before we got out of the car. Now I'm a huge fan of Italian sausage with parsley & Parmigiano-Reggiano which can look a little greenish from the herbs. But this wasn't a little greenish. It was so green I wanted to check for batteries or electric plugs. It was so much greener than any meat I had ever considered putting in my mouth that I was terrified anew. Nobody could tell me what gave it it's ominous hue, but speculations ranged from herbs to crushed seeds to food coloring. We ordered 3 tacos stuffed with the sausage before we even saw menus (& before I could change my mind).

They were excellent, of course. Fresh-made blue corn tortillas carried the star of this show along with sliced nopal cactus. The chorizo didn't taste green, but it had an intriguing gamy & fragrant flavor quite different from other Mexican sausages I've tried. Now that our appetites were worked up, we got a menu and the debate over what else to have started as our nostrils filled with the smoke coming off the wood-fired grills inside the row of shacks. It was then that an old man wandered in to buy a very shady looking bottle of booze.

My friends stopped him to ask about it as we noticed several of these bottles lined up in the window. It turns out that they are aguardiente- a type of moonshine made in many Latin American countries- each flavored with different fruits or herbs. I had heard stories of this brain numbing elixir but never had the opportunity to try it. So my friends chose a bottle with sliced peaches floating near the bottom & we ordered tacos & quesadillas filled with more chorizo verde, a corn fungus called huitlacoche, slow-roasted goat known as barbacoa plus 2 different types of pork (each filling in a separate tortilla if you're trying to keep score at home). Everything was delicious although the aguardiente was a little sweet for my taste. Those of you who enjoy sampling unusual beverages I carry home from the corners of the world will be glad to know I snagged a bottle of the herbal tincture for your entertainment.

A quick note on barbacoa & Mexican Spanish: I've long loved this dish but noticed many Mexicans don't eat it. So I asked my table-mates why & one of them giggled & said they would never eat wow-wow-coa. In México & Central America, they transliterate dog barks as "wow wow" much as we use "bow wow" in the US. I'll let you do the math on your own, but regardless of what it was when it started the end product was very tasty goat meat to my palate.

Once we ate our fill, we got back on the road for the short drive to Toluca. It reminded me of a mountainous New Jersey with more trees & less pollution on the way in, but the town center was ringed by beautiful Spanish colonial buildings framed by brightly-colored houses climbing up the mountainside behind. The main building was surrounded by carts selling all manner of traditional sweets, most of which were themed for the upcoming "Dia de los Muertos" or Day of the Dead celebration. This means skulls, skeletons & bones made out of & filled with a vast array of sweets ranging from chocolate to hardened sugar to marzipan & crystallized dulce de leche.

We stocked up on sweets for later & one of my compatriots purchased a few pounds of chorizo verde from a butcher who was obviously very popular with the locals. On our way back to the car the sausage-laden pal dragged me into a shop selling Mosco. The English word "mosquito" is Spanish in origin but it's not used much here. Adding "ito" to the end of a word is a diminutive in Spanish so "mosquito" means "little mosco," and Mexicans call the nasty biting pests moscos. So what is Mosco with a capital M? More booze!

Mosco is both the name & brand of a traditional orange liquor that Toluca is known for and which dates back to the 1920s. While there are now many fruit-derived flavors available, the original orange out-sells them all by a mile & after being offered a sample by the shopkeeper, I had to add a bottle to the aguardiente purchased earlier for my friends back home. So you know what to expect, it's like the best Grand Marnier, Cointreau or Triple Sec I've ever had in that it's much more orangey than sweet but with plenty of kick.

On the ride back it was decided that we should pick up a fellow at the Mexico City airport & go for dinner & drinks (too much of a good thing is a great thing). Our dinner destination happens to be one of my favorite places in the world. Out in the suburbs in the hills overlooking the DF is a little town called Lomas del Olivo or El Olivo for short. There is nothing of note there except one grubby little hole in the wall called La Cochinita.



Cochinita Pibil is a traditional dish from the Yucatan Peninsula in the southern-most region of México along the borders with Belize & Guatamala. It's pork slowly steamed in banana leaves & seasoned with sour oranges & achiote along with many other seasonings that chefs closely guard. When you see this heavenly meat in the DF it's referred to as just "cochinita". It's usually not as good here as it is in the Yucatan, but La Cochinita is the exception. It might be the single best pork I've ever tasted. The owner's grandmother was a great cook from Mérida, the capital of the Yucatan, and he has her recipe for not only the cochinita but also the piquant & picante sauces served on the side. Your food choices there are simple: taco, tostada or torta, all featuring this delicacy which I will crave for the rest of my life. A great end to an excellent adventure. ¡Besos!

Photos!

I realized the old cell phone I'm borrowing from my friend has a decent camera & blue tooth connectivity so I'm adding photos when the urge strikes me. Besides today's new post, I added one photo to Tacos al Pastor and 4 photos of my apartment to the first post in case you'd like to go back & see them.

Lemonade From Lemons

"Shouldn't you be sitting by a pool in Cuernavaca with a drink in your hand right now instead of writing this crap?" you may be inclined to ask. Yes I should, but the trip got canceled at the last minute so I'm staying in the DF for the weekend. But I'm not one to wallow in self pity so I decided to explore my adopted home a bit more than I have so far. Up to today, I've kept my wanderings almost entirely to the 3 neighborhoods in Cuauhtémoc that I'm most familiar with from my previous trip & my apartment hunt- Condesa, Roma Norte & Roma Sur. There are a few reasons for my smallish scope: I'd like to know my home base inside & out before I wander off, I'm in no rush to explore everything as I have time, I've been focused on settling in more than exploring, and I'm still not confident in my Spanish so I feel a little safer close to home. Throw that all out the window because today I got mobile.

During my adventure to the lighting store with my landlord's husband & their electrician, we passed by a taco stand which the husband pointed out as among the best he's been to. The electrician piped in immediately to say it was his favorite. Since it was exactly half-way between Mercado San Juan (for artisanal wares, not the food market) & a major food market who's name I'm still not clear on, I figured it was a great destination for a stroll. As it lies roughly 3 miles from my apartment I figured it would take a while to walk so I left my place around 10:30am with a good guess where I had to go but no definite path in mind. I managed to find my way with only a little self-doubt and no missteps so I was rather pleased with my navigational skills (sometimes it's the little things that make me happy).



My aim was a street called Lopez in the Centro Historico area. Just "Lopez" with no "Street", "Avenue" or "Boulevard" attached. The major food market is on the corner of Lopez & Arcos de Belen while Mercado San Juan is on Ayuntamiento one short block off Lopez, and there are only 4 blocks or so between the two. Right in the middle was my first target: Taquería Gonzalez. I got there around 11:45am & despite the mountain of meat (seen in the photo above) & the large sign listing the hours as open every day at 11am they weren't serving tacos. There were 2 fellows waiting when I walked up. I asked if I could have a taco & they said they weren't open. Over the next 20 - 30 minutes, many more people stepped up & were told the same, never accompanied by any explanation. Once there was 15 - 20 of us circling like vultures & drooling from the spectacular sight & aroma of the bubbling cauldron of meat I started to worry that a riot would break out if they didn't start making tacos soon. Suddenly a red Italian-made sporty car comes tearing down the street & slams on the brakes right in front of the taquería. The driver jumps out & runs for the trunk accompanied by 2 of the guys from inside the taquería. Out of the trunk comes buckets of guacamole, non-spicy pico de gallo (the spicy version was already on the counter), limes and stacks of tortillas. The taco-making brigade finally sprung to action & the crowd surged towards the counter.

Let me take a second to explain this kind of taco as they are quite different than the tacos al pastor I previously raved about. Taquería Gonzalez serves what's usually referred to as tacos de guiso in the DF and tacos de cazuela in the rest of the country. This means any taco made from ingredients cooked or stewed in a sauce, usually a red & meat-based sauce even if the main ingredient isn't meat. The typical set up looks like a giant pot with an upside-down wok in the center. The meat gets cooked & stored around the sides where the deep channel holds the sauce while the dome in the middle stays dry & is the perfect place to warm tortillas before turning them into tacos. There can be many different types & cuts of meat and vegetables depending on the place and when I was there I had 3 choices of meat: chorizo (the famous spicy Mexican ground sausage), thinly sliced & diced steak, and a pork product that I think is what locals call cabeza- diced choice bits from a pig's head including skin, fat, cheeks, ears & if you're lucky a little snout. Every taco came with a choice of sliced nopal cactus or diced potatoes which were also cooked in the same sauce & pot. The end result looks much more like the tacos we're used to in the US then the small & odd tacos al pastor, especially when adorned with pico de gallo & guacamole. I went with one chorizo and one pork/cabeza and if you'll pardon my language they were holy shit good (special thanks to the fine fellow next to me who steered me towards the spicy pico de gallo). I could have stood there for hours stuffing myself but there was too much more to see & eat, so I paid roughly $2 and tore myself away.

Next stop was Mercado San Juan. It's a long, narrow 4-story building laid out so that when you walk in you slowly circle around & up until you've walked through the entire place. There are hundreds of stalls & shops on your stroll carrying the full range of artisanal goods from around the country interspersed with cheesy gifts, tailors & craftsmen making everything from musical instruments to furniture. I took my time & browsed my way through, then doubled back to buy a belt. As is typical in these kinds of places, haggling is encouraged & the poor woman was no match for my combination of NYC savvy & Semitic heritage. I got her down to slightly more than half of her asking price, in part because I was lucky enough to be wearing an old belt I purchased in Spain some years ago which I convinced her cost much less than her price (Spain is looked up to in pretty much every Spanish-speaking nation in the Western Hemisphere so this was the turning point in our negotiation). I didn't have time to bask in my glory as there was too much more on my agenda.




After one tiny taco al pastor (you may remember El Huequito is right across the street from Mercado San Juan), I started back down Lopez towards the food market. The entire stretch of Lopez between Arcos de Belen & Ayuntamiento is lined with stalls, stores, restaurants & carts all dedicated to food, both raw & prepared, so I had lots to look at & make notes of as I walked. Then I walked in the door of the market & I swear I heard a chorus of angels singing. It was laid out in the typical Mexican food market style with a section of restaurant stands on one side with the bulk of the market made up of stalls selling every ingredient imaginable. Produce stands that are nearly inconceivable to your average New Yorker. Butchers hacking into every animal you can think of. Herb stalls to rival any greenhouse. Dried chile stands with nearly infinite options and always a variety of pastes & concentrates to start any sauce with a helpful shortcut. Dairy shops, grain stands, charcuterie stalls, bread vendors & a breathtaking dessert case are among the long- & admittedly incomplete- list I browsed. If you stare too long at any one item there's a good chance the proprietor will force you to taste it. For example, the chicharrones stand in the photo above that seemed to have skinned a pig & thrown the whole hide into a deep fryer. The lovely old woman wouldn't take no for an answer when she saw me admiring her wares and once I had a taste I had to buy a little piece for later. After that I needed to buy an avocado, a cup of pomegranate seeds and a little bag of fiery vinegar slaw called escabeche all because my curious looks brought forth a sample. This made me hungry.



I headed for the prepared food section & did my usual check to see who was busiest, then sat down (the final photo above). As I was right underneath a sign proclaiming "Rico Pozolé" I ordered a bowl. Pozolé is a spicy red soup with hominy kernels which usually also contains random pork chunks, fresh herbs and radishes. You are served raw onions, sliced limes for squeezing, dried oregano & chile powder on the side for dressing it up & I can't resist a hearty dose of each in my bowl. It was indeed "rico" & was just what I needed to fuel my long walk home.

Before I finish I want to offer an explanation to those of you who think I eat nothing but meat, cheese & corn in huge amounts here. Unlike my habit in NYC of eating 2 - 3 full meals a day with little snacking, I tend to eat small snacks several times a day here with rarely a large meal as part of my day. One of those snacks is almost always "jugo verde" or green juice. The stands that sell it (along with many other juice options) are a two person operation. When I order, one person starts juicing grapefruits while the other cuts up celery, pineapple, nopal cactus & xoconostle (the red version of the tropical fruit called "tuna" in Spanish which is not related to the aquatic animal which they confusingly call "atun"). Everything comes together in a blender & the end result is a delicious & energizing concoction that supplies all kinds of vitamins & health benefits. I learned to love this drink in Oaxaca where they usually substitute parsley for the xoconostle & it appears to me as if a large portion of the population here gets their fruits & veggies from this kind of drink rather than having salads or side dishes as we do up north. ¡Besos!