A Taco, a Tamal, and Queso Asado in Mexico City

Words and Photos by Briana Olson

Infinite experiences are possible in Mexico City, or as author Juan Villoro has called it, Chilangópolis. Sometimes I daydream about embarking on a taco pilgrimage that zigzags across colonias, stopping only at street vendors and places so small that most patrons eat standing up. For our trip there last year, though, my partner and I decided to skip most of the street food and all the white tablecloths. We cataloged chilaquiles and chocolate and aguachile, stopped into diners and fondas, taquerias and mezcalerias, sampled guacamole with chapulines and even a pizza with chile cuaresmeño. These are three standouts.

Queso Asado, EL HIDALGUENSE
El Hidalguense’s main attraction is the barbacoa. The lamb is raised on the owners’ family farm in Hidalgo, pit roasted with maguey, ordered by weight (trust me, half a kilo is not too much for two people), chopped to order on one of the stoutest cutting boards I’ve ever seen, and served encased in charred agave, with freshly made blue corn tortillas, fresh and fiery salsas, and other taco accoutrements. (Note that ordering tacos individually will rob you of this experience.) But the queso asado also proves that the rustic can be spectacular; we tried the huasteco style, which is cured with chipotle, grilled, dressed with sesame sauce, and delivered on a bed of creamy beans. I’ve been craving it ever since.

Tamal de Frijol, TAMALES MADRE
I hesitated outside Tamales Madre: Was this the right place? Yes, there was the masa, in a huge mixer that lives tucked into the wall of blond cabinets at the far end of the room; there were the ears of heirloom corn, piled on the single communal table; and there, lined along the single shelf on an otherwise unadorned white wall, bookended with jars of spices, were some of the telltale tomes, including Jorge Gaviria’s Masa. The calm of the staff, methodically preparing a startlingly green agua fresca and a vat of vibrant red sauce, amplified the sanctuary-like vibes. Each offering on the meat-optional, refreshingly plant-forward menu helps make the case for native corn; I’m partial to the tamal de frijol, steamed with hoja santa and served with sweet, tangy caldillo de jitomate.

Taco de Mole Verde, TAQUERÍA EL JAROCHO
While this trip did not reach the level of taco pilgrimage, I mapped enough taquerias that, on one occasion, we were compelled to eat lunch twice, with only a two-block stroll between. One of my favorite tacos was at the no-frills Taquería El Jarocho, which started as a tortilleria in Roma Norte in 1947 and is now known for its tacos campechanos and its cazuelas filled with a myriad of guisados. Whenever I think of the pork in mole verde—beautiful, nutty, bright, creamy—sandwiched between two house-made tortillas, I wonder why green mole is so rare on the New Mexican side of the border.