Food From Home: Mexico City

At El Bajio in Mexico City.

April 27, 2005 (Hispanic PR Wire) — Like those of too many other cities, a number of Mexico City restaurants have turned to international cuisine; in white-tablecloth establishments, it is easier to find bad pasta than good tamales. There is no dearth of fabulous taquerías, but when it comes to good sit-down restaurants where the food has a sense of place, Mexico City is still struggling. There are some timid Italian and almost laughably old-fashioned French offerings, and new restaurant "scenes," where food is an afterthought.

In fact, the number of truly appealing choices - at least in comfortable settings - is surprisingly few. But there are some gems, like the four discussed here. They have little in common except that three of them serve truly superior Mexican food. The fourth, Tezka, is a world-class restaurant, one that would draw raves anywhere.

A few other places I tried are worth a visit. Start with a drink or the decent food at the tourist-oriented Hacienda de los Morales, a sprawling near-village in swank Polanco. Or venture over to La Condesa, the up-and-coming neighborhood reminiscent of the East Village, and stop at El Tizoncito, a joint that offers delicious tacos al pastor, in which a coal-fired vertical oven perfectly browns a gyrolike affair of achiote-laced pork shoulder. The meat is sliced to order and layered into a tiny taco, with a little of its drippings, some chili sauce, a bit of onion and a garnish of deftly cut pineapple. You eat 5 for a snack and 10 for a meal. It's not elegant, and blessedly it's not pasta.

Wherever you dine, compared with other international capitals, the prices in Mexico City are reasonable, if not downright cheap.

Tezka

Tezka is owned by Juan Mari Arzak, the noted chef whose restaurant, Arzak, in San Sebastián, Spain, is great in every sense of the word (confirmed by its three Michelin stars). So I reserved my table at Tezka, which is run by a talented young Basque chef, Bruno Oteiza, before I left home.

The restaurant consists of several rooms, including a charming one on its own level with a table for four that is particularly appealing. Several tables are next to French windows that open to the street, and because the restaurant is one level above ground, the layout has a delightful air of spaciousness. There is stately wrought-iron work throughout, and the walls are of varying subtle colors and materials; one is multicolored slate - a calm, relaxing, even elegant atmosphere.

The food is contemporary Spanish, with an emphasis on Basque traditions, which means adventuresome and ultra modern. Theoretically, at least, there are Mexican influences, but they are not immediately obvious. This is not really a complaint; top international restaurants take their inspirations wherever they find them, and, with a prix fixe menu that works out to about $45, Tezka is a fantastic bargain.

Following an amuse-bouche of ceviche of sea bass with mint and onion, my companions and I had a seafood gelatin, little cubes of sea essence in a green sauce, with a salt cod foam - all topped with a salt cod crisp. It's the kind of dish that could make me cry foul if it didn't work perfectly, but it did: the flavors were intense, the textures varied.

Other innovations were almost as impressive, especially a fried "ravioli" of boniato, a sweet-potatolike tuber stuffed with mushrooms and lobster, served with tamarind vinaigrette, cauliflower purée and fried corn kernels.

The main courses managed to keep up, particularly sea bass served with pistachio sauce, squid ink and an oil made from burnt leeks - clear, dotted with flecks of what might be described as soot (needless to say, I had to ask). Almost as enjoyable was lamb with a peanut sauce, served with peanuts and leeks wrapped in thin slices of melon. Venison with yeast sauce may have been clever, but it was not successful; as happens in restaurants that take risks, the chef had sacrificed flavor for cleverness.

For dessert, I liked coconut soup with lemon ice cream far more than chocolate fudge with chopped tomatoes, a concept best forgotten.

Service here is highly professional, nearly flawless, as is the wine list, which focuses on Spanish wines (Viña Izadi, a white Rioja, $28, was especially good) but features a nice selection of bottles from Mexico.

Izote

The chef-owner Patricia Quintana - among the top Mexican cookbook authors writing in English - hit it right with Izote, which is on the main drag in Polanco and probably the hottest place in town.

It is not the chicest room in the world, though pleasant enough, clean and contemporary. The service is fine, and there is a ton of energy and bustle, along with striking-looking food that for the most part, consists of traditional dishes spruced up for contemporary dining. (There are pasta dishes, and Brie makes an appearance, but we'll ignore these.)

Whole-grain tortillas come in a bread basket, and they are rough, brittle and hard to chew - in short, a delightful change from ordinary tortilla chips. Salsas are fresh, varied and almost uniformly sensational. I especially liked one seasoned with sour orange, chile ancho and tequila (ask for it if it isn't served to you automatically), and one based on prickly pear.

Freshwater shrimp, served in a deep red broth of sour orange, achiote (annatto seed, the basis for many dark red Mexican sauces), tomato and chilies, was intense and dreamy. (You will be offered a cloth bib with this dish; accept, unless you're wearing a black sweatshirt.) Try, too, the shrimp with a sauce based on dark, silky chile ancho. On a Friday, grilled shrimp with tamarind mole (each of these dishes used a different kind of shrimp) is on the menu, accompanied by two tamales, one filled with split peas and butter, another with a yellow rice that is the perfect mate for the rich, burnt-tasting sauce.

For those who don't eat shrimp, there is a lovely fillet of fish steamed in bamboo over a sauce of huitlacoche - the corn fungus often described as the Mexican equivalent of truffle. And the barbacoa of lamb shank, steamed in banana leaf with adobo - another dark red sauce - and served with a trio of salsas and tiny tortillas, is a hefty enough portion to split.

Trying just one dessert, a tarta of chocolate and pecans with a caramel sauce, I found it way too sweet. A cheese plate with a selection of local cheeses appeared to be a good option.

The wine list is not especially ambitious but has some interesting Mexican selections, along with a few from Spain.

El Bajio

Everyone in town knows El Bajio, one of those institutions that attracts a few tourists but has managed to stay close to its roots. It specializes in breakfast and lunch, but is open until 7 p.m. so you can have an informal early dinner (what the residents would call a late lunch). I loved it not only for the food but for the bright, glossy primary colors in the large, multisectioned dining room, the Mexican ceramics and other folk art, and the open cooking stations.

Start with a basket of fried chicharron (pork skin) served as bread. Ubiquitous in Mexico City, chicharron can be done well - beyond crisp, all the way to brittle, virtually greaseless, irresistible - or not so well - soggy and greasy. Here they are done well.

There are four kinds of tamales (at about a dollar each, you can try them all): masa (cornmeal), black beans and sesame, wrapped in a banana leaf; just black beans, in a corn husk; chicken in an achiote sauce; and - my favorite, especially for breakfast - a tamal de dulce, masa, brown sugar and anise.

Gorditas infladas are puffed breads, poori-like, with brown sugar and anise or black beans - a wonderful substitute for muffins - light, airy, sweet and crisp. (Why these are not world-famous is beyond me, but eventually they'll turn up at Dunkin' Donuts or Taco Bell.)

There are standard breakfast and lunch dishes, executed nicely: chilaquiles, a pile of tortilla chips topped with egg, chicken or chicharron, with red sauce (tomato), green sauce (tomatillo) or well-seasoned refried beans. Picades, little rounds of dough, baked flat and topped with similar sauces and grated cheese, are not unlike tiny pizzas.

A fried plantain stuffed with black beans is lovely, as are scrambled eggs with black beans, sautéed onions and grilled jalapeño. Be sure to ask for the salsa chipotle seco, a dry, pasty salsa based on chipotles, the smoked jalapeño that marks so much of the food here.

More ambitious endeavors fare less well; the moles are not terrific (though a green one with string beans, zucchini and chicken was nice), and the consommé de barbacoa, a stew of lamb and chickpeas, was quite ordinary. Extraordinary, and worth ordering even at breakfast, are sorbets of mamay (a tropical fruit) and mango, among the best I've ever tried.

Fonda El Refugio

One of the oldest restaurants in Mexico City, this converted house in the Zona Rosa is comfortable and warm; I felt instantly at home. There are several small rooms on two floors, with white plaster walls, some accented with deep blue or pink, some with art, some with cooking utensils. If you get a chance, ask for a tour of the kitchen, which will be shown to you with pride; service, provided by older, experienced waiters, is friendly and accommodating.

I started with a gorgeous fried quesadilla, one that looked more like a dumpling; you split it open to reveal a cheesy interior, and spoon in a dark red, cooked salsa. More surprising, and an absolute must, is the queso frito, the fetalike cheese topped with a mixture of chopped cilantro and mild chilies. A "pinched" tortilla of chorizo, beans and onions, with cilantro salsa, was super, as was a plate of chopped nopalitos (cactus leaves) topped with queso fresco.

These are served with a pile of fresh corn tortillas, which are themselves worth noting: They are made almost continuously, from masa made here. Another sign of seriousness is the tortilla chips, called totopos, cooked in lard, which makes them incomparably delicious.

Tender, slow-cooked roast pork with spices came with a stack of thick-sliced, crisply fried potatoes that stole the show. It appears, though, that daily specials are the way to go. Certainly, the manchamanteles (served on Tuesday), a pork dish with bananas, pineapple, sweet potato and chilies, was the most exciting main course I tried.

Desserts run from natillas - essentially a first-rate crème brûlée - to a smooth paste of mamay, and a rich rice pudding. With coffee, you're brought a plate of fruit and peanuts in the shell, a fitting ending to a meal that had the allure of one served in someone's home.

Restaurant Information

The hours kept by many Mexico City restaurants are peculiar by our standards, and you may be told that "no one" eats dinner until 10 p.m. But this is simply not true, and the late lunch favored by many residents may well translate into an early dinner for you. What is true is that it may be difficult to have dinner at 7 p.m.; many restaurants close around 6 and reopen at 8 or 9 (though this is changing).

All of these restaurants accept credit cards. Reservations are recommended. Prices, calculated at 10.9 Mexican pesos to $1, are for two and include wine and tip.

Tezka, Hotel Royal, Amberes 78 (Zona Rosa); (52-55) 5228-9918. Open Monday through Friday, 1 to 5 p.m. and 8 to 11 p.m.; Saturday 1 to 5 p.m. Nonsmokers may request a private room (if one is available, they are lovely). About $100.

Izote, Presidente Masaryk 513 (Polanco); (52-55) 5280-1671. Open Monday through Saturday, 1 p.m. to midnight; Sunday 1 to 6 p.m. There is a nonsmoking section. About $80.

El Bajio, Avenida Cuitlahuac 2709 (Obrera); (52-55) 5341-9889. Open Monday through Friday, 8 a.m. to 7 p.m.; Saturday and Sunday 9 a.m. to 6:30 p.m. About $40.

Fonda El Refugio, Liverpool 166 (Zona Rosa); (52-55) 5525-8128; fax (52-55) 5207-8802. Open Monday through Saturday 1 to 11 p.m.; Sunday 1 to 10 p.m. Nonsmoking section available. About $60.