2. Food
May 2026
Our diet in Mexico City vacillated between two extremes. Half our dinners consisted of $30 MXN ($1.75 USD) tacos, and the other half were Michelin-rated meals. And yet this is a false dichotomy, as the Venn diagram overlaps at Taquería El Califa de León.
This tiny taco stand without seats is situated on a busy street amid an informal market. To find it, one must dodge precarious arrays of faux designer bags and knockoff Nikes. Once located, enter the stall, place your order with the disinterested owner at the rear, then step back into the market until your food is ready. El Califa de León’s tacos feature slabs of tender meat, cooked to order on the same griddle as the freshly-pressed tortillas. Lines here can be over 2 hours long; somehow, there was only one other party ahead of us when arrived. Though not miles better than any other taco stand in the city, the novelty of a $5 Michelin-starred meal, drink included, cannot be beaten.
Other cheap-eat standouts included:
• The 24-hour Los Cocuyos, where a semi-serious lounge singer serenaded a disinterested audience completely distracted by the fútbol match on TV.
• Ricos Tacos Toluca, specializing in various forms of chorizo. Here we enjoyed green chorizo for the first time, herbaceous and refreshing on a hot day.
• Taquería el Torito, an izakaya-style space with counter-only seating and a locals-only vibe, where the suadero, tripas, and campechano (that’s the entire menu, by the way) were all best-in-class.
• Tostados Coyoacán, for a slightly different meat-and-maize delivery system, which provided a wonderful sit-down break after visiting the Frida Kahlo House (set #4).
But best of all was Birriería Pit, which advertises itself, truthfully, as “la mejor birria de Mexico.” The owner hails from Jalisco, where birria originates, and brought his family recipe to the capital. The Pit is situated in a clinically-lit neighborhood food court, off the beaten path and densely packed with stalls. The cheerful server took delight in our delight in eating what would prove to be the best tacos of our lives. The goat meat was succulent, held in place by flavorful melted cheese, dipped in unctuous broth, all offset by fresh red salsa and lime juice. It was the perfect bite of food. And for dessert, we stopped at a churro stand on the way back to the hotel.
Truth be told, the hundredfold more expensive Michelin meals paled in comparison to those birria tacos. Masala y Maíz was an interesting, if disjointed, fusion of Mexican and Indian flavors. The taco omakase at Pujol was fine. At least they never harped on the oh-so exotic process of nixtamalization, a tired and condescending whisper of neo-colonialism so common in the contemporary European fine dining scene. Maximo was a complete miss, with an uninspired and directionless menu that boasts both tlayuda and pappardelle ragu. The standout fine dining meal was Quintonil, where we sat at the chef’s counter and watched the crew painstakingly lacquer layers of glaze on beautiful fillets of trout.
And even that was no match for the birria tacos.
Recipes: Classic Cuban Negative.
Artistic Direction: My Wife.
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