Taqueria con Servicio de Bar “La Cabaña”

I’ve had tacos at quite a few places in Mexico – including some really great ones – but last night I was introduced to a place that outshines them all: Taqueria con Servicio de Bar “La Cabaña”. (Yes, that’s how the name is printed on the awning, and the only way one can find it listed on the internet.)

Located in the neighborhood called Azcapotzalco, it’s not exactly a place the casual tourist in Mexico City is likely to go, and I’d be hard pressed to recommend a special trip there. But damn, these tacos are good. Proof that all you need for great food is good ingredients and careful, competent preparation.

So, a quick slideshow tour showcasing the highlights... first up: longaniza and lengua.

Longaniza is a a type of sausage, crumbled and lightly fried. It was a deeply flavorful, pleasant surprise. Its companion in the photo is beef tongue: tender, moist, perfectly prepared. Both are simply stunning.

The obligatory pastor:

Every taco place in the city serves pastor (except the ones that specialize in other types), and, except for El Hequito, which is in a class by itself, this is surely among the very best. Beautifully marinated, spit-roasted pork with just enough char to make the texture interesting.

Costilla:

Another outstanding offering – slices of beef short ribs, utterly tender and delicious.

Chuleta con queso:

Marinated pork chop meat is lightly grilled, then cheese melted over it. Perfectly tender, and incredibly delicious. These may be the greatest tacos on the planet (with the longaniza and lengua here giving them a run for their money).

Sesos:

"I can smell your brains."

Considering the widespread fame of tacos de sesos, I felt I needed to try it in a place where it was likely to be excellent. And for brain tacos, it most likely is excellent. But I’ve never been much of a brains fan (at least when it comes to eating them), and I believe I can now safely cross them off my list of things to order again.

Cecina:

Cecina in Mexico is not the same as cecina in Spain, where it is beef that has been salted and air-dried, producing something akin to a beef equivalent of prosciutto (the deep, almost purple color is quite amazing). In Mexico, it is beef that has been salted and marinated, then cooked. In two nights worth of experience here, I’d have to say it’s a bit hit-or-miss. The first night, it was moist, tender perfection... the second night, a tad dry. Still, a taco well worth eating. (The picture is from the second night.)

The greens that accompany every taco order:

Lime wedges, cucumber slices, and pápalo (sometimes called “Bolivian coriander” – I can't make this stuff up...).

My friend Miguel loves the flan here and assures me it's some of the best in town. Before ordering it, you should know that, like cecina, flan in Mexico is rather different than flan in Spain. In Mexico, it's sweeter. Much sweeter. When I tasted it, I was fairly certain it must be made with sweetened condensed milk, and some recipes I found on the internet for Mexican flan confirm this. It's quite good... just far too sweet for me.

The prices are quite reasonable, and it’s open very late. It’s also locally quite popular: at midnight on a Friday night, there was not an empty table in the place.

Taqueria con Servicio de Bar “La Cabaña”
Eje 3 Nte (16 de Septiembre) 36 – Centro de Azcapotzalco, Azcapotzalco
Ciudad de México, Distrito Federal, México
(+52) (55) 1742 1343

La Polar

My second trip to Mexico was drawing to a close and I still hadn’t tried the famous birria. David and Guadalupe assured me that the place to go was La Polar... and all of Mexico City seems to agree with them.

It’s been around for over 75 years, and birria is pretty much all they do. It’s usually described as a “spicy stew”. I would take issue with the description “spicy”, but it is tasty.

Soon after ordering, the condiments arrive:

Limes, chopped onions, avocado, and a mole-like sauce of chiles, chocolate and other spices.

Then the stew arrives:

Essentially a large bowl of stewed mutton in a light broth seasoned (very lightly) with cumin, some onion, oregano, and bay leaf, it is both hearty and soothing. I have to admit, though, that I didn’t find it very exciting. Good, but I’m not eager to have it again. Perhaps it’s better in its home territory of Jalisco.

The place is huge, and has a real party atmosphere. Be ready for a non-stop barrage of strolling mariachi musicians. Open until 2 a.m. every day.

La Polar
c/Guillermo Prieto 129 – Col. San Rafael, Delegación Cuauhtémoc
Ciudad de México, Distrito Federal, México
(+52) (55) 5546 5066
website

Coox Hanal

Along with Oaxacan food, probably my favorite regional Mexican cuisine is Yucatán-style food. It’s almost impossible to find in the U.S., and even in Mexico City, places to sample it don’t seem to be particularly numerous. Luckily, just around the corner from where we are rehearse is a Yucatán restaurant – probably the best know one in they city, Coox Hanal.

The somewhat unusual name, according to the back of the menu, means “let’s eat” in the Mayan language. And here, it’s a most excellent idea. We started with one of the best-known (for good reason) yucateco dishes, panuchos de cochinita pibil. Essentially small, open tacos with a layer of refried black beans, topped with shredded suckling pig pibil and slices of cebolla morada (marinated purple onion). Pibil is the Yucatán preparation – meat that has been marinated in citrus and braised in a sauce of annatto seeds (achiote), which gives it its almost startling orange-red color. These panuchos are wonderful, with just the right balance between slightly crispy fried tortilla, frijoles, and luscious pork.

Next were the papadzules (en salsa de pepita con huevos). Papadzules are more or less enchiladas – corn tortillas dipped in salsa de pepita (pumpkin seed sauce), filled with chopped hard-boiled eggs, then covered with more salsa de pepita and a bit of chile habanero-tomato sauce. Lovely – light in flavors and textures. A unique dish.

Even with this stellar preamble, the star of the meal – and yucateco cooking, as far as I’m concerned – is chamorro pibil (pork shank). One is served a whole shank on an oblong plate, bathed in plenty of the pibil braising sauce. Eat with corn tortillas, cebolla morada, and, for spice lovers like me, some the wonderful homemade chile habanero sauce on the table. Easily in my top 10 favorite dishes of all time.

I was in such ecstasy from what had come before that I forgot to get a photograph of the pan de cazón con salsa de jitomate. It’s not a particularly distinctive-looking dish, in fact – two corn tortillas filled with chopped fish, covered in tomato sauce. But the cazón, a smaller member of the shark family (I used to eat sopa de cação, a staple dish of Alentejo cooking, in Portugal) and the brightly-flavored tomato sauce are an inspired combination.

Lunch here the very next day included all of the above, plus the somewhat odd-looking rellenos negros. These are tortillas (surprise!), filled with shredded turkey, covered in a black sauce. The sauce is black because of a condiment recado negro, the black component of which is chiles toasted until... they are completely black. The final flavor, though, is quite mild. I found myself wishing that this particular sauce, however, was a bit less watery. Still, a very nice – soothing, even – flavor. Those are wedges of hard-boiled egg swimming alongside.

Like so many restaurants in Mexico City, this one closes by 6:30 in the evening. A pity - this would be such a great place for an festive evening meal.

Coox Hanal
c/Isabel la Católica 83-2º piso – Col. Centro, Delegación Cuauhtémoc
Ciudad de México, Distrito Federal, México
(+52) (55) 5709-3613
website

El Hequito

This is not exactly an unusual sight in Mexico City:

...but this is the site of the best pastor meat I have ever tried. So often, it’s a bit too dry, or bit too greasy (although I do love my grease). And do not ever consider the stuff sold in America as pastor to be actual pastor meat. The pastor at El Hequito is always perfect. They do pastor – and very little else. When it’s this good, you don’t need to.

The taco pastor especial is a softball-sized portion of pastor meat, layered with sautéed marinated onion, guacamole, and an orange-flavored house sauce, with a small slab of queso manchego melted over it. Sublime.

If you’re especially fond of cheese, they’ve got you covered. Queso relleno “El Hequito” is pastor meat (of course), those onions and the house sauce, wrapped in a queso manchego crust, and mounted on a couple of flour tortillas. Ridiculously delicious.

Incidental intelligence (to borrow Martin Bernheimer’s phrase): their name refers to the tiny floor space of the original location (less than a square meter), nickname a “hequito” by their customers.

El Hequito
c/Gante 1 - Col. Centro, Delegación Cuauhtémoc
Ciudad de México, Distrito Federal, México
(+52) (55) 5521-8834
(several locations around town)
website

For all your cow's foot needs...

My friend Elizabeth – who is here in Mexico singing the living crap out of Salome – liked the duck tacos she had at El Cardenal so much that she decided to order some duck tostadas at Fonda Santa Rita this evening.

What she was presented with a few minutes later slightly horrified her.

She exclaimed, “It’s all fat!” I thought to myself, “That does NOT look like duck fat... besides, duck fat is delicious!” After a bit more discussion, I finally asked her to point to what she ordered on the menu. Tostadas de pata. “Um, duck is pato. Pata is an animal’s foot.” At first I assumed it was pig’s feet, but I’m pretty sure now it was cow’s feet. The chief discernible seasonings were vinegar and oregano. Not really my thing, and definitely not hers!

In the meantime, I had a very tasty sopa de fideos (noodles in a nice chicken broth spiked with some type of mild, red chile)...

...and two eggs, rice, and mole poblano.

This is a very “local” sort of a joint, with offerings somewhat similar to El Rincón Tapatío, but with a much larger space and more festive atmosphere. The food, however, is better at El Rincón Tapatío (just a couple of blocks away).

Fonda Santa Rita
Av. Independencia 10 - Col. Centro, Delegación Cuauhtémoc
Ciudad de México, Distrito Federal, México
(+52) (55) 5512-4485

Restaurante El Cardenal

I had been told before coming to Mexico City this time (to prepare a Salome for some Orquesta Sinfonica Nacional concerts) that one of the great perks of staying at the Hilton Reforma was the excellent restaurant in the hotel. I thought, “Yeah, fine.” Well, after two meals there, I’m convinced that Restaurante El Cardenal is, in fact, one of the best purveyors of traditional Mexican food in the entire city. It has several branches throughout the city, but the Alameda (Hilton Reforma) location is known to be the best one, and apparently draws people from all over town – even if they live nearer to another outpost

The first meal was upon arrival at the hotel after a much-too-early flight while waiting for our rooms to be ready. At that moment, all I really wanted was a long nap, so the most appealing option was a hefty protein-load. And quite the delightful protein-load it was.

The costilla de res is, naturally, the wonderful grass-fed beef from Sonora. It’s translated on the menu is “ribeye”, but it’s cut differently than in the U.S. – crosswise, like the Argentinian cut tira de asado. It is accompanied by two cheese enchiladas – please expunge all images of enchiladas sold in America from you mind – covered in a palpably homemade tomato sauce. Absolutely delicious, and a relative bargain.

El Cardenal is known for careful and traditional preparation of Mexican classics, using the best recipes. The moles are spectacular, both their tortillas de maiz (corn) and tortillas de harina (flour) are the best I have tasted anywhere, and they have their own bakery that produces their marvelous baked goods. Everything tastes like someone’s mamacita could have made it, placing it firmly in the category of “my kind of restaurant”.

The menu emphasizes Oaxacan moles (as opposed to the better-known-in-America poblano), and there were several around the table – all excellent. The mole negro was better than any I had tasted anywhere, including Oaxaca. By the second meal here, I reached the same conclusion about their coloradito. Since these moles are, essentially, dark-colored goop, they are, hence, not terribly photogenic.

For an appetizer, I had ordered something from the sopas (soups) category of the menu that sounded interesting, although not a lot like a soup: sautéed fideos (noodles) in a light sauce of chipotle pepper and tomato. Well, maybe they meant a kind of broth, I thought. Nope. What arrived was a plate of lightly-sauced fried noodles. Until that moment, I had somehow never heard of the category of dishes called sopas secas (dry soups), which is often a casserole involving noodles. Tasty, but not mind-blowing. And definitely not what I expected!

I began today’s meal with sopa de verdolagas con pollo (chicken soup – a real soup this time – with purslane). Michael and Cameron both ordered it the day before and had been raving about it ever since, so I had to try it. The raves were justified: a light broth with chunks of tender, MOIST white meat (no mean feat – in my experience, the second a restaurant boils chicken breast pieces they get dry) and purslane leaves, a delightful green that actually reminds me a bit of watercress. A squeeze of lime gives it just the right bit of tang.

I had immediately zeroed in the barbacoa de cordero as what I wanted for a main dish, but it is served only for two. Luckily, Maestro Recchiuti agreed to share it with me. He proclaimed it to be the greatest thing he’s eaten in Mexico (and he’s been to Mexico half a dozen more times than me), and I agree. It's a shoulder of lamb – which, the English menu explains, has been wrapped in maguey (agave) leaves and cooked by burying it in the ground with charcoal. I'm not utterly convinced that’s the way this was prepared, in the centro of Mexico City. It arrived wrapped in paper, without a maguey leaf in sight, but it mattered not. Before wrapping it up to cook, the skin of the lamb shoulder had been brushed with salsa borracha (“drunken sauce”), a tasty and surprisingly complex concoction made with chiles pasillas and beer. It’s moist, incredibly flavorful, and...just get if you ever get to Mexico City.

Warning: their tortillas de harina are addictive.

There were, once again, several moles around the table. This time, Peter had ordered a mole verde – chicken cooked with chayote squash and a sauce scented with hoja santa. I copped a taste, and it was marvelous. Once again, better than the mole verde I had in Oaxaca.

This restaurant is rather expensive by local standards, but (not trying to be the ugly tourist here) for most foreigners, quite reasonable.

Restaurante El Cardenal – Alameda (Hotel Hilton Reforma)
Av. Juárez 70, Col. Centro, Delegación Cuauhtémoc
Ciudad de México, Distrito Federal, México
(+52) (55) 5518-6632

"El Rincón Tapatío" - Taquería y juguería

Food in Mexico really tastes nothing like Mexican food in the U.S. (and yes, that includes California). The basic ingredients seem to be the same. Yet, somehow the tortillas are infinitely better here, the sauce condiments might as be well be made from different plant products altogether they are so much more flavorful, and the meats used to make things like tacos, huaraches, tortas, and the like... well, al pastor meat is a perfect example. This is how it is made virtually everywhere in Mexico:

And so it is with "El Rincón Tapatío". Notice in the foreground that there are spring onions grilling in the drippings from the pastor spit. When you sit down, you are immediately brought a plate of garnishes that includes those wonderful onions, some guacamole, and lime and cucumber slices.

Good as pastor is here, the arrachera meat (essentially steak) is the star. I ordered the alambre: arrachera meat grilled with peppers and onions, topped with some melted queso Oaxaca, accompanied by some fresh tortillas.

Utterly delicious. And I have no doubt the campechano meat (arrachera and chorizo) is just as good.

You have to WORK to spend more than 6 or 7 dollars here. This place looks and feels like it hasn't changed in decades. In other words, my kind of place.

"El Rincón Tapatío" - Taquería y juguería
Av. Independencia 68, local No. 4 - Col. Centro, Delegación Cuauhtémoc
Ciudad de México, Distrito Federal, México
(+52) (55) 5521-5179

Gran San Carlos

After the bicentenario blow-out, there was one last stop for us in Mexico--Monterrey. Having done a bit of reading up on the area, I knew there was one thing I wanted try there, and that was cabrito (roast kid goat). As usual, the schedule was conspiring against it: the day after the bicentenario celebration, the orchestra flew to Monterrey spread over three flights... of course, the last two were late, leaving barely enough to time drop things off at the hotel, get to the concert hall, have a quick sound check, and gulp a few bites of food before the 8:00 concert--and we were returning to the States early the next morning. It was our immense good fortune, however, to encounter an angel named Erica working for the Teatro de la Ciudad Monterrey. Diego, our tour manager, had mentioned to her our desire to try the cabrito there, and she not only advised us which place was the best in town (and which of the two locations she preferred), but called to reserve a table and asked them to wait for us to get there after our concert. She even called a taxi for us at the theater. In the post-concert rush to get packed up, I did not get a chance to thank you properly, Erica, so I'm thanking you now--I hope you read this one day.

We arrived at Gran San Carlos shortly after 11 p.m. to a warm welcome--and a large, practically empty restaurant. Yes, it was a bit late, but I didn't find out until I returned home that everyone in Monterrey was afraid to go out at night because of all the drug-war-related violence. But as they say, ignorance is bliss, and our bliss was two-fold that evening: the food was even better than I had hoped it would be. One orders cabrito here by the desired part of the animal: we asked the waiter which he recommended, and the reply was "pierna" (leg). So, pierna we ordered, and it was wonderful. There isn't much to say about expertly-prepared roast cabrito... crispy skin, juicy, tender white meat (the kid must be less than 40 days old)... perfection. My dining companions were also delighted with their sopa azteca (tortilla soup) starters.

Word among those who know in Monterrey is that El Rey del Cabrito is the huge party joint everyone knows about, but if you want real quality, go to Gran San Carlos. I can vouch for the second part of that statement.

Gran San Carlos
Av. I. Morones Prieto 2803
Monterrey (Nuevo León), México
(+52) (81) 8344-4114

“Los Arcos” - Antojitos Yucatecos

After Oaxaca, we returned to Mexico City to rehearse and perform what turned out to be a rather amazing concert: Philharmonic Orchestra of the Americas (or Orquesta Filarmónica de las Américas, if you prefer) was the opening salvo of the musical performances invited to play at the huge bicentenario celebration of Mexico’s independence in Mexico City on Sept. 15. There is a clip on YouTube of the first work we played (which I guess was broadcast all over the world… who knew?), the Danzón No. 2 by Arturo Marquéz, where you can see yours truly engaging in one of the activities that actually helps pay his rent. You can watch it here, and there are clear shots of me at mins. 1:09, 5:22 and 9:30. The orchestra was then joined by some very well-known Mexican singers--Natalia LaFourcade, Ely Guerra, and Lo Blondo--who sang a selection of Mexican songs, marvelously arranged by Lev Zhurbin. This took place on a stage set up at the Ángel de la Independencia, in front of a reported 25,000 people standing in the plaza and the surrounding streets... definitely the biggest party I've ever played for! It was thrilling in a way I never expected... but, after all, we classical instrumentalists are definitely not accustomed to being received like rock stars!

This time in Mexico City, we were a bit more centrally located than before, adjacent to the neighborhood known as the Zona Rosa. Quite unexpectedly, the area is home to a large number or Korean establishment (among its many diverse attractions)--there are at least 15 or 20 Korean restaurants in a 3-square-block area. For lunch one day we picked one (Song Lim, c/Liverpool 158, 2nd floor--but there is no Western writing on the sign, only Korean and Chinese), and were rewarded with, among other things, jja jang myun that actually tasted like jja jang myun, and a fun budae jun gol.


I must say, that was about the last thing I ever expected to eat in Mexico!

This neighborhood was the scene of what turned out to be my favorite meal in Mexico. My first evening there I was strolling through the area, seeing what there was, sniffing around, when I passed a very simple establishment--almost a hole in the wall--that smelled terrific. The sign said they served Yucatán-style food… I had no idea what that was, but I was determined to find out. They were about to close for the evening, so I resolved to return for lunch the next day. And return I did to “Los Arcos” - Antojitos Yucatecos. Upon inquiring as to the especialidad de la casa, I was told chamorro. Sold... without having any idea whatsoever as to what was actually going to arrive at my table! But I was willing to put my complete trust in any place that smelled that wonderful, and I was rewarded with the most delicious pork shank I have ever tasted. It arrives in a small trough, with an inch or so of deep orange-red broth on the bottom. The shank has been stewed with achiote seed paste (which gives the broth its distinctive color), a little vinegar and some spices, and served with tortillas and two kinds of onion relish (once again, I was warned that one of them was ¡muy picante!, and it was... a little spicy). The idea is much like eating carne en su jugo in Guadalajara: 1) eat a slice or two of pork, slurp some broth, make a little wet taco with some of the meat and some onion relish. 2) Repeat in any order. 3) Experience bliss. This feast set me back 5 dollars. They prepare chicken much the same way (pollo pibil), too.

I’m not sure I can explain just why I have such incredible fondness for this meal. I’m sure there are more beautifully and carefully prepared versions of this food around, in plusher surroundings. But there is something simple and honest about this place and their offerings... real food for REAL people, and it was a privilege to be able to mix with them for a few minutes and get a taste of something extraordinary.

“Los Arcos” - Antojitos Yucatecos
c/Florencia 43-A, Col. Juárez
Ciudad de México, Distrito Federal, México
(+52) (55) 5533-5877

La Casa de la Abuela

After the travel day from hell getting to Oaxaca, the LAST thing I felt like doing the next day was playing a concert, I was so damn tired. I also particularly wanted to try one other restaurant in town: La Casa de la Abuela. In an unexpected stroke of luck, the concert was an hour earlier than most of the others, and the restaurant was still open after the concert.

La Casa de la Abuela is much more the kind of restaurant I’m normally drawn to—-very traditional, nothing fancy... grandma-type food. And since “abuela” means grandma, I thought that boded well (it did). Kerrick (note to K: send me those pictures already!) and I shared an appetizer of taquitos de picadillo en mole coloradito (rolled tacos of seasoned ground meat, fried crisp, with coloradito, or reddish-brown, mole sauce).


That mole coloradito was, for me, THE most mind-blowingly wonderful mole I have ever tasted, including the mole negro at Casa Oaxaca the night before. “Complex” hardly begins to describe it... you’ve just got to go try it for yourself. For the main course, I had chicken with mole negro (not as great as the one the night before, but quite good), and Kerrick had the plato de la casa, a combination plate of six or seven varied items.


For me, the best ones were the tasajo, a variation of Mexican cecina (NOT Spanish cecina!--thin slices of beef that are salted and dried for a couple of days, then grilled), and a chile relleno unlike any I had tried before (top center, above the tasajo)—-it had a rather sophisticated pork filling, was battered, then fried... delicious. Also on the plate: a square of grilled cheese, an enmolada (a sort of simple mole enchilada), guacamole, frijoles, a cebolla asada (roasted onion), and a fried plantain. Good, simple, rustic fare.

To sum up: as far as I’m concerned, there are two moles you cannot miss when in Oaxaca—the mole negro at Casa Oaxaca, and the mole coloradito at La Casa de la Abuela.

La Casa de la Abuela
Av. Hidalgo 616 Altos, Centro Histórico
Oaxaca, México
(+52) (951) 516-3544

Casa Oaxaca

The next concert after Guadalajara was in Oaxaca, and getting there was one of the worst days of my adult life. Because of a recently deceased Mexican airline, there were not enough available seats for the whole orchestra to fly to Oaxaca. So, half the orchestra (as bad luck would have it, my “half”) had to get up at 5 a.m. (this after being returned to the hotel at midnight after the concert the night before, by the same bus driver that got lost TWICE trying to find the concert hall that afternoon) to catch a flight to Mexico City, whereupon we all boarded a bus for the supposed-5½-hour drive to Oaxaca. Instead, it ended up taking NINE HOURS, culminating in a blazing convergence of incompetence and stupidity as we sat on that damn bus in the middle of a busy road for an hour and a half while a key to the gate of a hotel was searched for. The only thing that could save that day from utter wrack and devastation was a great meal. Fortunately, I got it.

Many, including Rick Bayless, have sung the praises of the Casa Oaxaca restaurant, and for good reason. The setting, an 18th-century manor house, is stunning, the flavors fresh and unusual, the execution superb. Normally this kind of restaurant would fall outside the scope of this blog, but the favorable exchange rate meant that the Menú degustación “oaxaqueño contemporáneo”, plus wine, ran about 40 bucks a person—-an almost ridiculous bargain. It entailed six courses, plus a teaser of crispy blue corn tortillas with (from bottom to top) guacamoles, spicy rajas, and tomatillo salsa.


First up was rollitos de hoja santa-—taquitos made with an anise-like herb... subtle and delightful. Then came mole verde con lechón-—green mole with suckling pig. Lovely, although the flavor of the sauce was a bit muted for my taste (I freely admit my bias toward bold flavors). Next was to have been amarillo de venado (yellow mole with venison), but through an oversight it never arrived and we didn’t realize it until the end of the meal, so we never got to try it.

Bolder flavors arrived with the taquitos de pato con coloradito-—crisp little rolled duck tacos in a rich, reddish-brown mole sauce. Excellent. The crowning glory of the meal, however, was the mole negro con pavo-—black mole with turkey.


Neither Kerrick nor I had ever tasted a mole of such complexity and depth and... well, it was simply stunning. And turkey breast was the perfect foil for it: contrasting light flavor, yet a bit more substantial than, say, chicken would have been. For a few blissful moments, the hideous memory of the Bataan Death March plane/bus ride was erased.

The final course was dessert, nieve de leche quemada con tuna (shaved ice flavored with burned milk and prickly pear fruit).


Desserts tend not to be my thing, and though good for what it was, this definitely was not my cup of tea. The mezcal digestif that followed, however, was.

All of this was accompanied by a bottle of Palo Alto reserva, a cabernet/camernere/syrah blend from Chile... 2009, I believe it was. Normally I would have wished the wine to be not quite so young, but its almost-brashness turned out to go quite well with the huge variety of fresh flavors that evening.

Casa Oaxaca
c/Constitución 104-A, Col. Centro
Oaxaca, México
(+52) (951) 516-8531
website

Guadalajara

The next stop on the tour after Zacatecas was Guadalajara, where we were fortunate enough to have a whole afternoon and evening to explore. After perusing the Chowhound boards, I had decided the two things I absolutely had to try in Guadalajara were torta ahogada and carne en su jugo. So, that afternoon Kerrick and I set out to walk from our hotel near the Expo to the centro histórico and the Mercado Libertad (purported to be the largest market in the western hemisphere--it is indeed massive). The walk took well over an hour, and by the time we arrived at the mercado, we were ready for some sustenance. The seemingly endless maze of food stalls on the second floor seemed like the ideal place to try torta ahogada, so we picked a stall at random (one of the several we passed called Rosita—-it features three or four bubbling cauldrons of stewing meats on display up front) and ordered our tortas. They were pretty great: chunks of stewed pork in a bulky, crusty, hero-type roll which is then “drowned” (ahogada) in a thin sauce of red chile, the spiciness of which can be adjusted to your taste. (Photos by Kerrick Sasaki)


I loved it so much, I decided I had to have another before leaving Guadalajara, so the next day between our rehearsal at the theater (the Teatro Degollado in Gudalajara is the most visually and acoustically gorgeous theater I have ever had the privilege to perform in) and the concert, I dashed a few blocks south to a fairly well-known place called La Gorda for another one. Skip this—-it was but a pale imitation of the soul-satisfying experience of the day before.

By the time we made our way back toward the hotel after our mercado experience (that place is wild—-it has to be experienced to be believed), it was time for dinner, and in my mind that meant one thing: carne en su jugo. Luckily, what is probably the best-known purveyor of this dish in Guadalajara has a location near our not-particularly-centrally-located hotel. Karne Garibaldi has it down to a science: the moment you are seated, you are brought the “fixins”—small tortillas, red chile sauce, chopped white onions, chopped cilantro, limes, refried beans spiked with corn kernels, tiny fried corn tortilla chips and lard (lard really makes everything taste better), and fried cebollitas cambray (spring onions much like the calçots of Catalunya, minus the greens).


All that’s left is to decide on the desired size of your meat and what you want to drink. Again, almost immediately a shallow earthenware dish appears full of what looks like small pieces Philly steak meat swimming in a rich beef broth, with bits of crisp bacon on top. The whole spread is actually a bit overwhelming, and we were glad to be able to observe the plan of attack of a neighboring table seated at almost the same time as us. It worked beautifully: drizzle a few spoonfuls of red chile on the meat, then sprinkle some chopped onions and cilantro… maybe a squeeze of lime.


Mix a bit, slurp some of the utterly delicious broth, munch a few pieces of beef, make an impromptu taco with the tortillas-—with or without refried beans, according to whim—-repeat in any order. The meal couldn’t have been simpler in conception, or more inspired. And it’ll run you less than 10 bucks a person.

This seems to me such a great idea, I can’t imagine why it hasn’t caught on in the U.S. No exotic ingredients are required, preparation on the restaurant’s part is not complicated, and the final dish can be adjusted to literally anyone’s tastes (well, perhaps not vegetarians, but who cares?).

Guadalajara locals seem to agree that Karne Garibaldi is not actually the best place in town for carne en su jugo-—that prize apparently goes to Kamilos 333. But a trip to the Santa Teresita neighborhood was not possible this time, and I did not feel deprived in the least.

Karne Garibaldi
Mariano Otero 3019 (at Plaza del Sol)
Zapopan (Jalisco), México
(+52) (33) 3123-2607
website

Gorditas Doña Julia

A couple of days ago, I returned from a two-week tour of Mexico with the Orquesta Filarmónica de las Américas (Philharmonic Orchestra of the Americas). It was a hectic tour schedule that left very little time to explore and find good food (except in places where I didn’t want it, like the Polanco neighborhood of Mexico City--ick--it might as well have been suburbia), but I did eventually sniff out some meals worth writing about.

The first of these was in Zacatecas, almost a week into the tour, and by that time I was more than ready to eat something worth writing about. Zacatecas is a normally-quiet mining town with real 18th-century charm, the most beautiful place we went the entire tour. We, of course, managed to arrive on the eve of an anniversary of some event, the nature of which I have forgotten, which was celebrated by shooting off guns in the main square. Luckily, very near that main square is a local institution: Gorditas Doña Julia. It’s a simple establishment, and very easy to miss because the most obvious sign above the doorway says “Hotel Posada de la Moneda”. But once you’ve zeroed in on it, be prepared for hearty, honest, expertly-prepared food. The only thing they do here is gorditas: thick, round, tortilla-like bread cooked on a griddle, then split like a pita and stuffed with a wide variety of fillings. (Thanks to Melissa Tong for the photo.)


Doña Julia has at least twelve, and between Kerrick—-my intrepid tour roommate and dining adventure companion—-and myself, we were able to try about half of them. Our favorites were picadillo (seasoned ground meat with diced carrots, potatoes, and peas), deshebrada (shredded pork and cubes of potato in a spicy sauce), and arroz con mole (rice and mole sauce). (Photo: Kerrick Sasaki)


Vegetarians, be advised that the mole contains chunks of pork—-a couple of vegetarian string players in the orchestra found that out the hard way! But really everything here is delicious, from huevo (scrambled eggs) to carne de puerco (pork in a mildly spicy sauce), and friends attested to the deliciousness of the nopales (prickly-pear cactus in a very spicy sauce) and rajas con queso (strips of roasted green chile peppers and cheese, also quite spicy). And at 10 pesos apiece (about 80 cents), they're an unbelievable bargain.

Gorditas Doña Julia
Av. Hidalgo 409
Zacatecas, México
(+52) (492) 923-7955