GOOD FOOD ALERT

If you are a 'gastrónomo' and serious about eating well in Mexico City, there is a new book--just out last week--that you will want to own. Nicholas Gilman's 'GOOD FOOD IN MEXICO CITY: A GUIDE TO STREET STALLS, FONDAS AND FINE DINING' tells it all. Here's the link to Amazon:

GOOD FOOD

If you would like a personal gourmet guide for you (or a group) here in DF, get in touch with our dear friend Ruth Alegria. She takes you by the hand and leads you to the best food, markets, etc. in the city--and she knows everybody in the food world here! Here's her website:

http://mexicosoulandessence.com/

Here is a great website for anyone interested in authentic Mexican food and its traditions:

http://www.mexicocooks.typepad.com/

CHANGES IN THE BOOK

Two new places to say in La Condesa: www. condesahaus.com and www.theredtreehouse.com. Both are old houses, converted into B&B's.

Tacos Beatriz (p. 81 and 84) has gone out of business--after 100 years! Supposedly they are re-opening in a new location--I'll let you know.

Paquita la del Barrio (p. 99) has closed her nightclub due to problems with the tax people. Rumor has it that she is living in San Miguel de Allende and drives a Hummer.

Ambulantes (street vendors, p. 31, 32) have been forced to leave many streets in the centro, creating a more open, but slightly duller, atmosphere.

The 'pink' Edificion San José (p. 59) has been painted white

Aguila y Sol, arguably DF's most talked-about alta cocina Mexicana restaurant, is closed for unknown reasons--I've heard it had to do with parking problems. (p. 92)

The bar/restaurant has re-opened in the Torre Latinoamerica. Open late (p. 22).

The oldest cantina in Mexico City is closed! El Nivel, just off the Zócalo on Calle Moneda, had been around since the mid-1800's. Sic transit gloria.
References in my book are on pages 32 and 97.

BEST FOOD IN DF

THE 10 BEST THINGS I’VE EATEN IN MEXICO CITY

By Jim Johnston

The older I get the more I love eating, the more my fascination and respect for food grows. Cooking and eating together seem the most blessed forms of communal human behavior, and eating alone ranks high on my list of self-indulgent pleasures.

Mexico City is rich in gastronomic opportunities, and even a casual tourist will be impressed at how much food one sees here—open-air markets, street stalls, pushcart vendors, women sitting along busy streets tending charcoal stoves. It’s hard to walk even a few blocks without seeing, and smelling, something tempting to eat or drink. As an inveterate explorer of the metropolis, I offer here a few of my favorite culinary experiences from ten years of eating in Mexico City.

1. Several times a week I stop at the fruit juice stand near Insurgentes and Sonora to get a liter of fresh-squeezed orange or tangerine juice (18 pesos)--and wonder why every civilized city doesn’t offer such healthy convenience. Fresh fruit stands are all over the city and often seem to appear magically whenever I get really thirsty. Orange and carrot juices are standards, but my favorite is the ‘vampiro,’ a drink made of orange, carrot and beet juices (sometimes celery) that is easily recognized by its blood-red color. Jugos Canada (on 5 de Mayo near the Zócalo) offers the biggest selection of fresh fruit and vegetable drinks in the city.

2. I’ve never eaten better tamales than those sold by Mexico City street vendors--in my experience always better than what you find in restaurants. Every morning, and in some places late at night, on street corners, markets, and metro stops you will see vendors tending large aluminum pots, often with steam escaping from under the lids. Mexico City’s tamaleros are an essential part of urban life. Most tamales are wrapped in a corn husk, with standard fillings of mole, rajas (strips of green pepper) in red sauce, chicken with green sauce, or tamales dulces, sweetened and dyed pink (kids love them). Some vendors also sell tamales Oaxaqueños, made from more finely ground corn that is wrapped in a banana leaf. Doña Marta sells my favorite tamales at the Tuesday market at the corner of Veracruz and Pachuca in Colonia Condesa—be sure to get there by 11am before she runs out.

3. I don’t feel completely human in the morning before my first cup of coffee, and I always feel a bit cheated if I must drink coffee other than what I buy in the Centro at Café Jekemir (Isabel la Católica at the corner of Regina). Their dark roasted beans are the best I have had in Mexico. Sometimes, after a hard yoga class, I treat myself to a café con leche at Bisquets Obregón, a chain of restaurants with locations all over the country (see their website http://www.lbbo.com.mx/). The coffee is served in the two-handed Veracruz style, one urn containing a thick, syrupy coffee infusion, the other hot milk. Mexicans tend to drink it very milky, and waitresses are usually surprised by my asking for a 50-50 mix, which turns out just right.

4. Tlacoyos are found all over the city, usually made by women tending small charcoal fires in metal anafres on the street. Tlacoyos are palm-sized ovals of masa (corn dough), formed by hand and filled with frijoles (red beans), requesón (mild white cheese), or habas (fava beans—my favorite). Cooked on a greaseless griddle, they are served with nopales (cactus), onion, grated cheese, and your choice of red or green salsa. Healthy, delicious, and cheap (usually under 10 pesos), I find this one of the most satisfying snacks in town. You will see tlacoyos everywhere, but my favorite stand is on Calle Hidalgo in the Centro, facing the Alameda in front of the Museo de la Estampa.

5. I am a big fan of mole, and whenever I return from a trip outside Mexico, I order a plate of enchiladas de mole to make me feel at home again. ‘Mas Mexicano que mole’ is the equivalent of ‘As American as apple pie.’ Fonda Mi Lupita (Buentono 22 in the Centro, near Salto de Agua metro stop) is a simple hole-in-the-wall, where they have been serving spicy, chocolatey mole since 1957. The enchiladas are topped with onion rings, sesame seeds and crumbled queso fresco.

6. Mexican cuisine offers many regional specialties that are usually found only in their places of origin—unless you are in Mexico City. The best Yucatecan food I’ve ever had is here in the Centro at Coox Hanal (Isabel la Católica 83, near Mesones, on the 2^nd floor). I keep going back for their papadzules, tortillas filled with chopped, hard-boiled eggs, bathed in a thick green sauce of ground pumpkin seeds. The word ‘earthy’ always comes to mind when I eat these sublte, nutty-flavored antojitos--one of the few Mexican specialties that will appeal to non-meat eaters.

7. Years ago, while still living in New York City, my Mexican friend Marta came to visit for six weeks. About a month after her arrival, we were sitting around chatting one evening, when suddenly she whined, “Quiero tacos!” There was a deep sense of longing in her voice for her native comfort food, which surprisingly, is hard to come by in the Big Apple. Mexico City must be the taco capital of the world, and the variety is impressive. Those crunchy shells filled with ground beef, shredded orange-colored cheese and lettuce that often pass as tacos in the U.S. do not exist here. Tacos in DF are soft corn tortillas with a small amount of filling (usually meat). Tacos al Pastor, those towers of marinated pork roasting on a spit that you will see all over town, are a Mexico City classic. The sliced meat is served with a bit of pineapple and your choice of salsa. In my neighborhood, La Condesa, two places stand out: El Tizoncito (Tamaulipas at Nuevo Leon), which claims to be the originator of tacos al pastor, and La Califa (Alfonso Reyes at Altata). Each taqueria has its followers, both are excellent examples of one of the favorite foods of Mexico City residents.

8. I have to confess a preference for Mexican food from street stalls and market fondas (in case you haven’t noticed); it usually has a ring of authenticity missing in many upscale establishments. But internationally acclaimed chef Patricia Quintana has turned out some pretty delicious Mexican food—gussied up a bit—in her Polanco restaurant, Izote (Mazarky 513, tel. 5280-1671). The smoked salmon appetizer accompanied by guacamole drizzled with vanilla-infused oil is both surprising and delicious.

9. It took me a while to warm up to pozole, that thick soup made with pork and hominy (large corn kernels), but I’ve since become addicted to this most satisfying dish, which has been around in a similar form since Aztec times. Most places offer red pozole, but one of my very favorite things to eat in Mexico City is the pozole verde served at Pozoleria Tizka (Zacatecas 59 in Colonia Roma), which is thickened with ground pumpkin seeds. You can order it with chicken instead of pork to lighten it up a bit. Their tostadas are crisp and fresh, and the lemonade excellent.

10. I have a fairly aggressive sweet tooth, which is often disappointed with desserts in Mexico. After lots of research at the chocolate counter of Sanborns, I have discovered the good ones: look for maronet amargo, avellaneda, hoja cassis, and tortugas--all excellent in the dark chocolate category. Sanborns stores are found all over town, the most famous being the Casa de Azulejos on 5 de Mayo in the Centro Histórico. For a delicious vanilla treat, try the merengues filled with cream at the Pastelería Gran Via (Amsterdam 288 near Sonora in Colonia Condesa).

My list is but a brief glimpse of the culinary pleasures awaiting you in our capital city. True foodies will want the book ‘Good Food in Mexico City: A Guide to Street Stalls, Fondas and Fine Dining,’ to be published next month (and presented early in 2008 in San Miguel as part of the PEN lecture series). If, like me, food is high on your list of reasons to travel, hop on the bus to Mexico City, and bring your appetite

MEXICO, THE POST-APOCOLYPTIC CITY?

Depending on who’s counting, Mexico City ranks as the biggest urban conglomerate on the planet--more than 20 million people living in the same place at the same time--an inconceivable notion until the last century. Depending on your point of view, it’s either your worst claustrophobic nightmare, or the supreme example of human beings attempting to live in harmonious union.

All this life occurs on land that was once water, in a zone susceptible to devastating earthquakes, run by a government noted for corruption and incompetence, and challenged by an economy of extreme haves and have-nots. The city’s very existence is utterly improbable. Even the founding of the city (the site was chosen based on an ancient Aztec prophecy) adds to its other-worldliness, and the personal appearance of the Virgin of Guadalupe in 1531 contributes a dash of the miraculous. An element of the surprising, even the surreal, is part of daily life here.

Renowned Mexican author Carlos Monsivàis wrote in Mexican Postcards (1997),“Mexico City is the place where the unlivable has its rewards, the first of which has been to endow survival with a new status. For many, Mexico City’s major charm is precisely its ‘apocalyptic’ condition.”

In previous columns, I’ve written about the pleasures of life in Mexico City, the markets, the parks, the museums and restaurants, the relaxed and polite way of its people. But, as an urban dweller for most of my adult life, I’ve learned to appreciate the contrasting elements of the bizarre, the pathetic, the depressing and the confounding which heighten all the pleasurable sensations. Polar opposites are the norm here, keeping one’s nerve endings charged.

Mexico City has been used as a backdrop for several recent Hollywood movies (Missing, Total Recall and Man on Fire come to mind), and its extreme visual contrasts, combined with its reputation as a place where laws are invented on the spot, usually mean that the movie is set in some netherworld, beyond the reach of polite society, a no-man’s-land that suggests the past and the future more readily than the present.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m making my own movie or writing a novel that takes place in Mexico City, so I’m always scouting for interesting locations. One film would be a musical full of lovers, mariachis and happy endings in leafy green parks and elegant colonial palaces. The other is a science fiction story set in the not-too-distant future, maybe tomorrow. I’m not yet sure of the outcome of the story, but I will share with you some of the bizarre locations and incongruous happenings I have found that set the scene. You can see it all the next time you are in town--it’s my post-apocalyptic tour of Mexico City.

The entrance to the Metro Insurgentes recalls the classic science fiction movie Blade Runner, especially when seen after dark (but before 10pm when the stores close). A ring of constant traffic and gigantic illuminated billboards surrounds the round, sunken plaza; street life is a vibrant mixture of color and sleaze. The few houses from the early twentieth century still standing at the southwest corner of Insurgentes, overburdened with accretions of advertising, look as though they are being eaten alive by the city.

On May 6 this year, performance artist Spencer Tunick convinced 17,000 people to pose naked in the zòcalo, Mexico City’s main square (topping his previous record in Spain by more than 10,000 people). But public nudity has become almost commonplace here. None of the Mexicans I saw were surprised, as I was, the first time I noticed hundreds of demonstrators at the corner of Reforma and Insurgentes take off their clothes and wave as traffic passed by They were farmers from Veracruz protesting against their governor. While there is no regular schedule, protesters have been showing up naked on this street corner for several years now.

With luck, you may find a few of my favorite sci-fi extras working at a nearby street corner. Providing entertainment for motorists waiting at traffic lights is a time-honored profession here. Run-of-the-mill workers act as clowns, jugglers, flowers vendors, or windshield cleaners. But there are two ‘jobs’ I have seen at intersections that I’ve never noticed elsewhere. Fire-eaters, who place kerosene-ignited balls of cloth into their mouths, and skinny young boys who spread out towels covered with broken glass and then lie down on them, are disturbing reminders of how difficult life can be in the city and the bizarre forms of creativity that it inspires.

In Colonia Roma is a reminder of Thursday, September 19, 1985, a day that felt like the end of the world for many city residents. The most devastating earthquake in the history of the Americas killed at least 9,000 people, injured 30,000 and left 100,000 homeless. It also destroyed 412 buildings and seriously damaged another 3,000, according to official government statistics. On a pleasant tree-lined street (across from Chihuahua 196) amongst apartment buildings, stores and a school is a collapsed ruin of a building--no walls, just slabs of concrete and steel rods stacked and tilted like a deck of cards carelessly tossed on the floor. A family has been living there for years, their pots and pans (and Mexican flag) visible to passersby, looking like a scene from a post-nuclear documentary.

Just around the corner (at Insurgentes and Guanajuato) is Oskar’s Uniform store, which
has the strangest mannequins I’ve ever seen. Looking like extras from George Romero’s
Night of the Living Dead, these figures could be survivors of the earthquake, whose expressions have been frozen in time.

The Tianguis del Chopo is a counterculture street fair, a weekly meeting place for goths, punks, rastas, grunge, hip-hoppers and members of similar tribes looking for the latest in music, clothing, tattoos and body piercings. Hundreds of vendors attract thousands of shoppers and lookers, creating a fearsome scene of extreme fashions and hairstyles (perfect spot for casting movie extras), although the atmosphere, being Mexico, is laid back and friendly. Tianguis del Chopo is every Saturday from 10am to 4pm on Calle Aldama in Colonia Guerrero--just follow anybody dressed all in black.

Not all of my chosen locations are diabolical. Angels might have their birthday parties at the Pasteleria Ideal (16 de Septiembre 14 in the Centro Històrico). The showroom on the second floor offers the unique experience of being surrounded by more sugar, frosting and cakes than anyplace I have been. I’m planning the chase scene here.

Another site of pleasurable excess is Plaza Garibaldi on any Saturday night. Home base for dozens of mariachis and other Mexican music groups, families and lovers go here to listen to (and sing along with) their favorite old songs. Be prepared for a unique musical experience, as all the groups play simultaneously, creating the perfect ready-made soundtrack to my film.

I used to think that the magic realist or surrealist artists and writers of Mexico had some special creative gene that enabled their imaginations to soar more freely than most. Now that I live here, I realize that it’s just the result of careful observation of daily life, attending the theater of the street. Mexico City provides one of the greatest shows on earth, and admission is free.

POLANCO--MARKETS TO MILLIONAIRES

First published in Atención San Miguel April 13, 3007

Even before the Spaniards arrived and nabbed the Aztec’s gold, the accumulation of big bucks in the hands of a small percentage of the population has been a defining element of Mexican culture. While Mexico only claims one of the ‘Top 10 Richest People in the World’ according to Forbes Magazine (Carlos Slim with $49 billion is number 3), another 9 show up elsewhere on the list, and signs of the high rollers are all over Mexico. Meanwhile at least 40 percent of the population lives in poverty, sharing just 10 percent of the country’s wealth.

Parts of Mexico City have been compared to the poorest places in Africa, but when rich Mexicans want to show off their money, they do it in style, sometimes bordering on the ostentatious.

The contrast might dazzle you into silent awe or send you into a rage of revolutionary rhetoric, but it’s hard not to be impressed in some way with high-end Mexico City. If you need a break from quaint, colonial, and rustic, get out your American Express gold card and head to the big city for some of the fancy, fabulous, expensive stuff you can find here.

Money in Mexico seems to head west. Las Lomas, a vast residential area of hills, dales and expensive walled homes, and Santa Fe, the newest area of corporate high-rises and condos that resembles a piece of Tokyo, cover much of western Mexico City, but they are inconvenient to visit without a car.

Closer to the city center is Polanco, just north of Chapultepec Park, the neighborhood of choice for grand hotels, foreign embassies, business people and a sizable portion of the city’s Jewish population; it’s a good place to experience the bountiful side of the economy. (Look for the excellent free map of Polanco in many stores.)

I never imagined I would be writing about a shopping mall, especially here, but after last month’s column about traditional markets, I thought it was time to tip the scales. The Antara Mall (Ejército Nacional near Moliere in Polanco), just over a year old, is the premier shopping mecca for Mexico City’s ‘gente nice’.

Open-air walkways line two gracefully curving arcs, each three stories tall, filled with swanky shops and restaurants--even the underground parking garage is fancy and clean. Armani, DKNY, Hugo Boss, Kenneth Cole, Body Shop, and Coach are some of the recognizable names here; Kiehl’s Cosmetics (in New York City since 1851) has a branch here, too. Casa Palacio, a store offering home furnishings and accessories in many styles from traditional to modern, is the largest and most elaborate of its kind you could imagine. When I walked in, Ella Fitzgerald was heard singing Rodger and Hart’s ‘My Heart Stood Still.’ Mine almost did when I saw some of the price tags, but the range of goods and prices is wide.

The pleasant open-air food court has some of the usual fast-food culprits (McDonald’s, Burger King, Starbucks) as well as a few healthier choices. When you place your order, you are given a pager which lights up and beeps when the food is ready, so you don’t have to get bored waiting in line. The eclectic crowd will have you wondering where you are. I saw one table full of gringos, another of Japanese, and a group of 20-something Mexican kids who looked like extras from Baywatch, complete with blond hair and wrap-around sunglasses. Don’t miss going to the movies upstairs at Cinemex, where the VIP Platino theaters feature reclining leather seats and waiters who will deliver your order (from their 10-page menu) to your seat. The ‘I-can’t-believe-this’ factor was worth the 98-peso admission price even before the movie started.

One curious note about the Antara mall--what could this mean?--there is no bookstore.

Avoid the mall food and head for a real meal at Aguila y Sol, (Emilio Castelar 229, Polanco, Tel. 5281-8354--make reservations) where chic, white, minimalist decor sets the stage for perhaps the best Mexican restaurant in town. Chef Marta Ortiz Chapa is known as a leading proponent of ‘Nueva Cocina Mexicana’ which uses traditional ingredients in creative, unexpected combinations. Their website is www.aguilaysol@prodigy.net.mx

After lunch, walk east on Avenida Presidente Masaryk, the Fifth Avenue or Rodeo Drive of Mexico City. In one block you will pass by (most likely being the only one on foot) Louis Vuitton, Zegna, Cartier, Chanel, Tiffany, Ferragamo, Bulgari and Burberry--and it keeps on going.

A more affordable luxury is the ice cream at Alto Tango (Mazaryk near Alfredo de Musset). It is the best I have tasted outside of Italy and France, and there is a pleasant outdoor terraza.

At Mazaryk 360, walk into the Pasaje Mazaryk, a bit of old Palm Beach in Mexico City. The area nearby, centered around Parque Lincoln, where children sail toy boats on weekends, is full of restaurants and shops and the lucky people who frequent them. There is a lot of vintage 1950s streamlined architecture here, mixed with the occasional ‘Hollywood Mexican’ home displaying an abundance of baroque ornamentation.

El Péndulo (Alejandro Dumas 81) is a bookstore/caf’e with a small, but savvy selection in English. The most appealing restaurants in this area are Ivoire(upstairs at Emilio Castelar 95, Tel. 5280-0477) with a ‘French Colonial’ menu, and El Bajío(a few blocks past the park at Alejandro Dumas 7, Tel: 5281-8245) with excellent Mexican food in a more casual setting.

There is a taxi sitio in the middle of Parque Lincoln on Julio Verne, in front of the statue of Martin Luther King.

While not the most expensive hotel in town, there is something about the Camino Real


(Mariano Escobedo 700, Colonia Anzures, Tel. 5263-8888) that captures a sense of theatrical grandeur--in Mexican style--that can be so much fun in big city hotels. The spacious architectural proportions echo the ruins of Teotihuacán just north of the city. It’s a good place to get dressed up and act rich. The Blue Lounge with its glass floors hovering over a shallow pool of water, feels like a set for a James Bond movie. The restaurant Le Cirque (also in New York and Las Vegas) has a branch in this hotel; the large dining room is opulent and elegant--and a third the price of its US locations (Tel. 5263-8888, ext. 8956).

For more intimate chic, go to the brand new Hippodrome Hotel (Avenida Mexico 188, Condesa, Tel. 1454-4599), an Art-Deco apartment building which has been lovingly remodeled into a boutique hotel and a cozy restaurant filled with beautiful people.

The look of big money tends to be the same all over the world, including in this city, so while money and shopping play their part here, it is often the lack of resources that inspires the most compelling sights: fire-eaters ‘entertaining’ commuters at stop lights by inserting kerosene-ignited sticks into their mouths, an old country woman wrapped in a rebozo selling avocados displayed on a blanket in the Centro, an 8-year old boy playing the accordion on the metro, an old man dressed in Aztec costume beating a drum for tips.

What is surprising to many visitors is not the style, but the extent of the wealth here. In a country famous for its poverty, the amount of money, and the whiteness of most of its possessors, exposes a powerful aspect of life in Mexico. Take a look.

FIRST REPORT FROM MEXICO CITY

First published in Atención San Miguel on January 12, 2007

My current home town of Mexico City (or el D.F. as it is commonly known) just happens to be one of the biggest cities on the planet. When I tell people I live here, the response is often bewilderment shadowed with trepidation. The city seems to attract more than its share of bad news headlines and, while statistics can support many of these claims, my experience of living in the city is another story. There is a lot of stimulation, so I stay alert; my blood seems to run faster here, which makes me feel young and happy.

I love the oldness of Mexico City. Founded almost seven centuries ago by the Aztecs, the city has a palpable aura of its own history. The phone book still has almost 800 Moctezumas listed, and you see those hard-to-pronounce Nahuatl names everywhere: Tenochtitlán, Popocatepetl, Iztaccihuatl, Nezahualcoyotl, Chapultepec. The basilica of La Virgen de Guadalupe, the most revered religious site in Latin America, is built over an altar where Aztecs prayed to the great mother-goddess Tonantzin. Fragments of the past turn up at building sites all over town--even the metro has its own Aztec ruins, the temple of Ehecatl, god of wind, at the Pino Suarez station.

You can experience the history through the food, too; many things have not changed for a thousand years. Tamales, esquites, guacamole, pulque, nopales, mamey, mole, huitlacoche and huazontle are just a few of the things found daily in Mexico City that were eaten by the Aztecs. Like millions of Mexicans for centuries, I often start the day with a tamal from my local street vendor. Tamales oaxaqueños, steamed in a banana leaf, are a regional specialty often found in the city, along with the more traditional corn-husk tamales.

Surprisingly for a city of around 20 million inhabitants, I often feel I am in a small town. The pace is slower than in most big cities, the people generally patient and friendly. As throughout Mexico, there is a sense of life being lived in the present tense, of pleasure being more important than business.

My own neighborhood, Colonia Condesa, is a few miles southwest of the Centro Histórico. Condesa is a leafy maze of streets and parks dating back to the 1920s, with palm-lined avenues, lots of Art Deco architecture, and trendy stores and restaurants. As in any good Mexico City neighborhood, there is a mix of everything: rich and poor, glamourous and hideous, sublime and mundane. The colonia has that fascinating quality of simultaneous decay and rebirth that characterizes much of the city, with slick steel-and-glass apartment buildings going up next to crumbling stucco casitas or earthquake-damaged office buildings. Weekly produce markets, still known by the Aztec name tianguis, are set up in the streets as they have been for centuries. Here you might see a blonde woman toting a Chanel bag buying handmade tortillas from a country woman in braids and a rebozo. Sounds of an older Mexico are heard in Condesa, too: the whistle of the knife sharpener, the cries of men delivering gas or water, the hoot of the camot
ero who sells sweet potatoes from a push-cart at night, or a one-man band playing trumpet and drums.

With almost a fifth of the country’s population living here, you can’t really claim to know Mexico without knowing Mexico City, but it is not for the faint-hearted traveler. The air is polluted, the traffic is beyond belief; it’s in an earthquake zone and within range of a smoking volcano. You don’t come to relax or ‘get away from it all.’ Yet, with its Aztec ruins, majestic colonial architecture, dozens of museums, great food and friendly people, it ranks as a major tourist destination. More than the sites, however, it is the ambience of the city that draws me here, the audacious and improbable feel of it all, the energy of 20 million people living their lives, maintaining their dignity and respecting their culture.

Each month I will offer some tips for getting around the city and suggestions of current shows and events. One of the first questions I get is: What about the taxis? Here’s the scoop.

I do hail cabs on the street and have never had a problem in more than 10 years. But I speak Spanish and I know where I am going. For most visitors, registered sitio taxis are the safest way to travel around Mexico City. You find them at hotels and at designated spots marked with the word sitio. There is a sitio on the Zócalo behind the cathedral on the left. At most sitios you can also hire a taxi by the hour, usually US$10 to $15 per hour, with a three-hour minimum--one of the best ways to see the city. Always negotiate prices beforehand if there is no meter to avoid surprises. Taxi prices are usually reasonable--most inner-city destinations will cost under 100 pesos. Get a business card from the sitio; you can call them from anywhere in the city to come get you.

The turibus is a convenient way to see the city without worrying about transportation (www.turibus.com.mx). This red, double-decker bus passes by most of the major tourist destinations. For about US$10 you can get on and off all day at 24 stops around the city. There is a stop on the Zócalo on the left side of the cathedral, next to the taxi sitio.

WHEN JACARANDAS BLOOM

First published in Atención San Miguel Feb 9, 2007
Like cherry blossom time in Japan, jacaranda season in Mexico is a great time to visit. Springtime in Mexico City begins with thousands of jacaranda trees blooming like soft purple clouds above the streets and parks. Floating clusters of trumpet-shaped flowers adorn the city with their exquisite color, a blue-lavender, reminiscent of violets, lilacs, orchids, and the sky, a color at once peaceful and intense. The trees are seen all over town, but here are some suggestions for enjoying the best of the jacarandas along with some of Mexico City’s most interesting tourist attractions.

Not far from the Zócalo, Mexico City´s vast main plaza, is the Secretaría de Educación Pública (Argentina #28 near Venezuela) where jacaranda- filled courtyards are decorated with murals by renowned Mexican artist Diego Rivera, painted here between 1923 and 1928. There is too much to see in one visit, so I recommend beginning upstairs on the 3rd floor, where Riveras’s later work exhibits greater control of design and color. The murals are an allegory of the Mexican Revolution, with scenes of triumphant workers and decadent capitalists united by a long scroll painted with lyrics of Revolutionary songs. These are my favorite Rivera murals in the city, full of movement, opinion, and colors you want to sink your teeth into. Rivera used his wife, Frida Kahlo, as a model for an armed revolutionary in the panel “The Arsenal” near the top of the stairs. Murals on the first floor depict traditions and festivals of the Mexican people. Passing beyond the back patio you enter a colonial building (the former Customs House), where murals by David Alfaro Siquieros, Rivera´s famed contemporary, enliven the large stairwell with their bold imagery and energetic technique. .

Eight blocks west of the Zócalo is the Alameda, an oasis of green in the city center, a perfect place to relax under an umbrella of jacarandas, get your shoes shined, and watch the world go by. Surrounding the park are some of Mexico City’s best sights. The Palacio de Bellas Artes, looking like a giant wedding cake at the end of the park, is the principal venue for opera, concerts and ballet. The museum upstairs has murals by Rivera, Tamayo and Siqueiros among others, and there is a Museo de Arquitectura (separate admission ticket) on the top floor, well worth visiting for the up-close view of the dome over the lobby.


Attending a performance at Bellas Artes is the only way to see the magnificent Aztec-Deco interior of the theater, with its Tiffany stained-glass stage “curtain”. Events are listed on the wall in the front lobby, where you will see ticket booths (taquillas). The Ballet Folklórico presents colorful dance performances every Sunday and Wednesday; the Orquesta Sinfónica Nacional has concerts on Friday nights at 8pm and Sundays at 12 noon, with tickets for as little as 80 pesos.
Directly across from Bellas Artes you will see a Sears store, whose 8th floor café is perfect for viewing the jacarandas in the Alameda below—and the coffee is good, too.
On the north side of the Alameda, on Avenida Hidalgo, is the Museo Franz Mayer, with a fine collection of colonial art housed in a lovingly restored 16th century building. Be sure to visit the museum’s tranquil cloistered garden to best enjoy the elegant colonial architecture here.


South of the Alameda, behind the high-rise Sheraton Hotel, is the Museo de Arte Popular (Revillagigedo and Independencia, www.map.org.mx ). A top-notch collection of Mexican handicrafts is beautifully displayed here in a renovated Art-Deco building. All proceeds from the store here go to the artesans.

The most dramatic display of jacarandas is found in Colonia Condesa. Take a taxi to Avenida Michoacán in Parque Mexico, where you will see a statue of a buxom nude holding two jugs spouting water. This marks the middle of the park, where you can also find a taxi sitio for your return trip. Ambling through this cool, shady neighborhood park is a pleasure, especially on weekends when you might encounter a used book sale, art classes for the kids, or an impromptu tango session near the duck pond. The park is a large oval whose perimeter is defined by Avenida México and by a larger concentric oval, Avenida Amsterdam. Walking along these streets will give you a good feel for the mix of nature and architecture that characterizes this colonia--and you can’t get lost in this otherwise complicated neighborhood, as the oval shape returns you to your starting point.
Weekly markets, known by the Aztec name tianguis, are set up in the streets as they have been for centuries; here you might see a woman with a Chanel bag buying handmade tortillas from a country woman in braids and a rebozo. Sounds of an older Mexico are heard in Condesa: the whistle of the knife sharpener, the cries of men delivering gas or water, the hoot of the camotero who sells sweet potatoes from a push-cart at night, or a one-man band playing trumpet and drums.

On Avenida Michoacán, about five blocks from Parque México (walking in the direction of the traffic) , is the commercial center of Condesa, with lots of places to shop, eat, or sit and watch hip, young “chilangos” (as D.F. residents are known) looking great and having fun. At Café La Gloria (Vicente Suarez at Amatlán) you can admire the work of established Mexico City artists on display while dining on bistro-style food. Artefacto (Amatlán 94) sells home accessories that mix traditional materials with sleek design. El Milagrito (Mazatlan 152) features whimsical gift items with images of Mexico’s twin goddesses, the Virgin of Guadalupe and Frida Kahlo. You can cool off with a gelato at Neve-Gelato (on the corner of Michoacan and Cuernavaca).

Start at Avenida Michoacán in Parque Mexico, where you are surrounded by jacaranda trees—you will see a statue of a buxom nude holding two jugs spouting water, which marks the middle of the park. Ambling through this cool, shady neighborhood park is a pleasure, especially on weekends when you might encounter a used book sale, art classes for the kids, or an impromptu tango class near the duck pond. The park is a large oval whose perimeter is defined by Avenida Mexico and by a larger concentric oval, Avenida Amsterdam. Walking along these streets will give you a good feel for the mix of nature and architecture that characterizes this colonia--and you can’t get lost in this otherwise complicated neighborhood, as the oval shape returns you to your starting point.

The nearby Condesa DF Hotel (at the corner of Veracruz and Parque España) is a fashionable hotspot, with a spectacular display of jacarandas, best enjoyed from the rooftop. Take the elevator to the top floor, where the wood-planked terrace, complete with hot tub, seems to float on waves of jacaranda trees lining Avenida Veracruz.

In Xochimilco at the southern end of the city is The Museo Dolores Olmedo Patiño, an idyllic place for a spring visit. Olmedo, a rich socialite patron of Diego Rivera, opened her house and collection to the public in 1994. Manicured lawns are planted with jacarandas and flaming red colorin trees; strutting peacocks and waddling ducks lead you to her 16th century hacienda. Out front is a fenced-off area where several xoloitzcuintzles, rare hairless dogs of pre-hispanic origin, are frolicking or sleeping. The ceramic sculptures of these dogs from the state of Colima are a highlight of the museum’s small but impressive pre-Hispanic collection. The museum features works by Diego Rivera, including a roomful of luscious small paintings of sunsets, his best lithographs, and early work from his cubist period. Frida Kahlo has her own room, the largest collection of her paintings anywhere.

Visit the website (www.museodoloresolmedo.org) for more information and directions. Make a copy of their map, as many cab drivers have trouble finding this place. The museum is near to the La Noria metro station.

Perhaps the best place to view the jacarandas is from the air--if you are arriving by plane, be sure to get a window seat.

If you think of Mexico City as a big ugly metropolis, visit during jacaranda season and see if you don’t change your mind.

WHERE TO GO AFTER AN EARTHQUAKE

First published in Atención San Miguel June 29, 2007

The earthquake that struck Mexico City at 12:42 A.M. on Friday, April 13 reached 6.3 on the Richter Scale, the strongest I had felt so far. Nick and I stood under a doorway, watching the ceiling light in the living room sway back and forth, listening to the Venetian blinds rattle, and realizing, in silent awe, that our entire four-story apartment building was undulating. The quake’s center was hundreds of miles away, near the beach at Acapulco, eighteen miles below the earth’s surface. No one was hurt and there was little property damage reported, but a piece of the planet had moved, and the physical sensation etched itself into my body’s memory. “Don’t forget to put on a bathrobe in case we have to run out into the street or if we’re found under the rubble,” Nick thoughtfully reminded me.The next morning, after a few “Did you feel that?” conversations with friends, life went back to normal.

Maintaining a sense of equanimity in Mexico City is a tough job. Living with 20 million neighbors in a place that shakes on occasion requires constant attention, so I’m always on the lookout for spots that provide an oasis of calm in the urban storm--the best places to visit after an earthquake.

The busy area behind the Cathedral in the Centro Histórico recalls an older Mexico City. Bustling Plaza Santo Domingo, where type-setters work under a sagging arcade as they have for centuries, is the most intact Colonial space in the city. Superb murals of Diego Rivera are found at the nearby Secretaria de Educación Pública, and, just around the corner is the San Ildefonso museum, one of the city’s best, located in a former Jesuit college. The area is full of street vendors, hawkers, noise, traffic, life, sometimes reaching an exhausting level. A visit to the church known as La Piedad (Calle Doncelles near Argentina) provides a haven of tranquility amidst the commercial hubbub. Its proximity to the Templo Mayor, where Aztecs offered human sacrifices to their gods Huitzilopotzli and Tlaloc, adds to its aura of sanctity. The baroque interior, a celestial fantasy of carved wood and gilded plaster, inspires awe and the desire to worship a deity.

The Museo Franz Mayer, facing the green park known as the Alameda in the Centro Histórico, is one of the city’s gems of colonial architecture. In its peaceful garden patio you can sip a cappuccino, listen to birds sing, and be transported, in a flash, to another, more innocent Mexico City. A beautifully tiled central fountain is surrounded by beds of small shrubs and flowers; a well-proportioned arcade envelops the patio, providing a shady place to sit and observe. The heaviness of this building, the sense that each of its stones was lifted into place by hand, provides a grounding comfort, somewhat humbling, that feels just right after an exhausting bout in the big city.

Not far from the Zócalo is the Museo de la Ciudad de Mexico (Pino Suarez #30, near República del Salvador) which has changing exhibits (of variable quality) and a permanent exhibition about the city’s history. The most interesting thing here, however, is the studio of Joaquin Clausell, located on the second floor (mention it when you buy your ticket as it is sometimes locked.) Clausell (1866-1935) was a Mexican painter who studied impressionism in Paris. His wealthy in-laws owned the building and gave him a studio to work in. For years he painted, doodled and sketched directly on the four walls of his atelier, creating a fascinating mural of the artist’s working process. The room is dark, cool, and quiet, and furnished with some very comfortable upholstered chairs, making it perhaps the most peaceful public space in the Centro.

Mexico’s famous architect, Luis Barragán (1902-1988), is known for the simple, at times austere, lines of his buildings, for the use of earthy, indigenous building materials, and the introduction of bold colors. A visit to his home and studio is a lesson in the difference between “architecture” and “construction”. His spaces, with their dramatic changes of light and scale, are at once warm and cozy, cool and abstract. The famous ‘floating staircase’ displays his propensity for poise and delicate balance. You feel removed from the city in his garden, an urban jungle of tumbling vines and tropical plants; the tall, richly colored walls of the rooftop terrace block out everything but the blue sky above; the hum of traffic seems to be coming from another world. Barragán was a religious man, a fact instilled into his architecture. His home/studio was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2004. The Casa/Museo Luis Barragán is located at General Ramirez 114 in Colonia Tacubaya, (close to Metro Constituyentes). Call to reserve in advance at 5515-4908 (English spoken).

If you’re seeking more oxygen, head to Parque Mexico in Colonia Condesa, a small but luxuriant park built in the 1920’s in a neighborhood filled with art-deco buildings, restaurants, cafés and bookstores. Pathways meander among towering palms, graceful jacarandas, and huge banana trees surrounding a duck pond and an artificial geyser. There are benches, like small rustic cottages, where you can sit and read.

The Museo del Carmen, a former 17^th century convent in San Angel, in the south of the city, is a cloistered enclave with a hushed, expectant mood. You can see a fine collection of religious art from the Spanish colonial period, as well as a cellar filled with mummified nuns, but simply sitting and enjoying the feeling of weight and security--of survival--in the stones here is what makes this spot so soothing.

Finding a peaceful and quiet hotel room in Mexico City can be a challenge. Ask about noise (and ventilation), especially in older hotels, as rooms vary greatly.

Two hotels in quieter parts of the city are the Hotel Maria Cristina (Rio Lerma 31, Colonia Juarez, tel. 5703-1787, www.hotelmariacristina.com.mx) and La Casona (Durango 280, Colonia Roma, tel. 5286-3001,

www.mexicoboutiquehotels.com/lacasona).

I’ve never heard anyone say they are coming for a relaxing weekend in Mexico City, but the experience of peace and quiet, once you find it, takes on a delicious depth in this city. The flamboyant urban hysteria of the city quickly blurs any thoughts of natural disaster with its resounding call to life, but, just in case, I’m going to renew my earthquake insurance…next week.

MI MERCADO

First published in Atención San Miguel March 9, 2007

When my friend Dottie returned to Colorado after spending a year in San Miguel with her family, she wrote me the following e-mail: “I went to the grocery store today and burst into tears. Everything is wrapped in plastic. There are no smells of fruits or vegetables or flowers. The avocados are hard as rocks. I miss the real thing.” She was referring to el mercado, the place where Mexicans have traditionally done their shopping before the arrival of Gigante and Commercial Mexicana. In San Miguel there are two mercados, El Nigromante near the center and El Merdcado San Juan on the western end of town. If you haven’t spent time there, you are missing a big piece of the cultural picture of life in Mexico.

In Mexico City’s neighborhoods tall red and green ‘Mi Mercado’ signs are a familiar sight, and although statistics show that more and more Mexicans are shopping in American-style supermarkets each year, in the big city the traditional market is going strong.

Mercados bring the farm, the earth, the past into everyday life. At the Museo de Antropología in Mexico City a diorama of a mercado in Aztec times looks remarkably like those you see today. In the Palacio Nacional, Diego Rivera’s panoramic mural of an Aztec market depicts a butcher offering a human arm for sale, but otherwise the same goods are still sold. Corn, beans, squash, avocados, metates for grinding corn and molcajetes for grinding chilies, baskets and woven mats are just a few of the things that connect today’s mercados to their Aztec past. And, of course, the best tortillas are being sold by women who sit on the ground outside as they have for centuries, their baskets covered with hand-embroidered napkins.

Most market stalls are small family-run businesses, so there is an intimate feel of a village in the mercado. You can still ask for ‘un aguacate para hoy’, a recommendation for the best melon, or get a free apple as a ‘pilón’ from your friendly local greengrocer. Vendors beseech you with ‘Que vay a llevar?’ or ‘Que le damos, marchanta?’ and there is a chatty, bustling feel to the proceedings, and usually, somewhere, music.

La Merced is the mother of all markets in Mexico City, where the experience of a village mercado is enlarged to gargantuan scale. Formerly surrounded by a network of canals crowded with delivery boats, the site has been a commercial center for centuries. The humongous but more business-like Central de Abastos, far south in the city, has replaced it as the main center of food distribution for the country, but La Merced embodies the heart and soul of Mexico City. Arriving by metro brings you right into the middle of the main market building (exit at forward end of train). Huge piles of corn husks and banana leaves for making tamales, spiraling drums of nopal cactus, walls of dried chilies, and seemingly endless rows of garlic, potatoes, tomatoes and fruits surround you. The main building is the size of several football fields; smaller nearby buildings house candy vendors, fake flower sellers, wholesale kitchen suppliers and more in vast quantities. Wandering through La Merced, soaking up its rich, noisy, crowded exhuberance, is an energizing and sometimes dizzying experience. (Avoid Saturday afternoons when crowds are dense.)

A few miles south of the Zócalo, the Mercado Jamaica offers a laid-back and scaled-down version of La Merced, plus more—it is the city’s wholesale flower market. Beyond the beautifully displayed fruits, vegetables and piñatas are several aisles lined with masses of cut flowers and curious formal arrangements that might include apples, plastic dolls or live goldfish. In the main covered building look for the Tepacheria ‘Paty’ where you can get a refreshing glass of tepache, a traditional drink made of lightly fermented pineapple juice. There is a metro stop at the Mercado Jamaica on the #9 line and a taxio sitio behind the flower market

The Mercado San Juan (on Ernest Pugibet in the Centro) is not the most picturesque place, but it’s where gourmet cooks, professional chefs and French people go to buy their food. Fist-size shrimp, button-sized squash, exotic fruits, chinese vegetables, imported cheeses, wild mushrooms and more are found inside the building. Outside you might find crispy fried grasshoppers or fresh gusanos, worms of the maguey cactus that are eaten live, rolled in a tortilla with salt and lime. The dapper Argentine gentleman by the outside wall of the Mercado San Juan sells excellent empanadas de elote.

The Aztec word ‘tianguis’ is still used to describe once-a-week street markets where the vendor comes to you, a distinctive feature of Mexico City neighborhoods. Where I live in Colonia Condesa there are two weekly markets, both colorful and lively affairs. The Tuesday tianguis rivals anything seen in Paris, with enticingly displaced produce glowing under pink awnings. At the corner of Pachuca and Vera Cruz you wll find the best tamales in the city (get there by 11am)—especially good are the tamales oaxaqueños wrapped in banana leaves with mole. The Friday tianguis at Campeche and Nuevo Leon is a compact and colorful affair, a perfect example of a neighborhood street market.

My apartment in Mexico City is midway between a traditional mercado and the Superama, and like any smart urbanite, I take advantage of both. But the mercado offers a grounded feeling of knowing that my fruits and vegetables come from someplace real. It’s one of the delights of city life.

ON THE AZTEC TRAIL IN MEXICO CITY

ON THE AZTEC TRAIL IN MEXICO CITY
By Jim Johnston

First published in Atención San Miguel June 1, 2007

Hints of Mexico’s Aztec origins are all over the place in this city. Ruins of the Templo Mayor, the main site of Aztec worship and sacrifice, were unearthed in 1978 while electric cables were being installed. Carvings from Aztec buildings show up as cornerstones on colonial era residences, on display at a metro stop, and stylized on Art-Deco facades. Faces of people in the street reflect a tribal bloodline that still runs strong. The distinctive aroma of freshly made tortillas has wafted through the city for almost 700 years.

Tenochtitlán was the name the Aztecs gave to the settlement that was to become Mexico City. The Spanish tried their hardest to destroy the place, but the most they could achieve was to subsume it, envelop it, cover it up and hope for the best. Conquered, but not erased, you can still find traces of the ancient city today.

The best place to begin exploring Mexico City’s Aztec past is at the Zócalo, the vast open plaza in the Centro Histórico which was once the ceremonial center of Aztec life. Today, concheros, dressed in glitzy Aztec-inspired costumes with feathered headdresses, dance and chant here, mixing pagan traditions with worship of the Virgin Mary. As many Mexicans do, you can line up for a limpia, a ritual cleansing of evil spirits using incense and herbs (leave a few coins in the cup).

The Templo Mayor is in the northeast corner of the Zócalo, next to the Cathedral. The most important discovery from the temple site is a 10-ft. diameter stone disc, whose carved surface depicts the dismembered body of the Aztec deity Coyolxauhqui (pronounced Coil-SHWA-key). Coyolxauhqui is “dressed to kill” here, with feathered headdress, human skull belt buckle, and shoes with snake laces. In a typically violent Aztec myth, Coyolxauhqui kills her pregnant mother Coatlicue, and then is murdered by her own brother, Huitzilopotzli, god of war. He chopped her to bits (along with 400 brothers) and sent them all spinning in the sky—her head became the moon, and her brothers became the stars.

The most important Aztec art is displayed at the Museo de Antropología on Paseo de la Reforma in Chapultepec Park, a few miles west of the Centro Histórico. (www.mna.inah.gob.mx). A mammoth statue of Tlaloc, Aztec god of rain, greets you out front. The museum building designed by Pedro Ramirez Vasquez in the early 1960's is a elegant piece of architecture, incorporating pre-Hispanic references expressed in a modern idiom. Proportions of spaces echo the peaceful vastness of Teotihuacán, the pre-Aztec ruins just north of the city; decorative screens on the upper floor are updated versions of bas-reliefs from Mayan temples; a pond filled with papyrus and turtles in the patio recalls the lakes and marshes the Aztecs first encountered here. All rooms open toward this central patio in classic Mexican style, with access to cool leafy gardens behind each gallery.

The Sala Mexica, at the far end of the central patio, contains the Aztec collection. One of the most compelling sculptures is a horrific mother figure, the great maternal monster, Coatlicue. The mythical Coatlicue (whose daughter Coyolxauhqui is at the Templo Mayor) was murdered by her 401 children. This mother is a piece of work. Her statue at the Museum of Anthropology, over eight feet tall, looks like a snakeskin-covered tank mated with a Japanese super-hero. The Spanish were horrified by her and kept the statue out of sight. She is so mean and ugly that even the museum gift shop doesn’t even carry a replica. But with children like hers, it’s a wonder she doesn’t look worse. (The statue of Coatlicue is in the center of the Sala Mexica just to the left of the famous Stone of the Sun.)

According to gastronomy historian, Jose Iturriaga, the only true Aztec food is the tortilla—everything else is an amalgam of pre-Hispanic elements mixed with ingredients and cooking techniques from other countries (Aztecs used no cooking oils or fats, for example.) Many of these original ingredients are still found at street stalls throughout Mexico City. You will see women cooking over charcoal fires, making tlacoyos which look like small flattened footballs made of blue corn. They are filled with frijol (bean) requesón (mild white cheese) or haba (pureed fava beans—the best), then cooked on a dry griddle, and topped with chopped nopal cactus, onions, cilantro, shredded cheese and your choice of red or green salsa.

Pre-Hispanic ingredients are common to menus in most Mexican restaurants. Ensalada de nopales, a salad of cooked cactus with onion and cilantro, has a slightly tangy flavor and crunchy-soft texture Huitlacoche, a black fungus that grows on corn cobs with a delicate, mushroom-like taste, is used as a filling for quesadillas. Flor de calabaza are squash blossoms, used in a soothing soup and in quesadillas. Pozole, a thick soup made with hominy, was mentioned in the chronicles of Fray Bernardino de Sahagún, an early Spanish missionary. He reported Moctezuma eating pozole that contained thigh meat from a sacrificed warrior. Today’s version is usually made with pork (a whole pig’s head gives the best flavor) and garnished with shredded lettuce, radishes, onion and oregano. Huazontle, a vegetable whose stems are covered with tiny edible green flowers, is most often found in market fondas (food stalls), batter-fried and bathed in salsa made of chile pasilla or tomato. Zapote shows up on menus in traditional Mexican restaurants. You will see this fruit in markets, its green-black skin wrinkled, being sold very ripe. The black pulp is blended with orange juice (and sometimes tequila) and served for dessert.

The most popular legacy of Aztec cuisine surely is chocolate--the original Nahuatl word is chocolatl. Cacao beans, first encountered in the New World, were used for money as well as to make a frothy drink mixed with chili and spices that was reserved for Aztec priests and royalty. Today it is often enjoyed with crispy fried churros, a gift from Spain.

UNESCO declared the Centro Histórico of Mexico City a World Heritage site in 1987, while it was still reeling from the devastating earthquake of two years earlier. Recent investment in the Centro and Alameda areas of the city have made it a cleaner, safer and more vibrant place than ever. And those ancient artifacts keep popping up out of the ground, constant reminders of Mexico City’s glorious Aztec past, humbled but not vanquished.