“My mother had many celebrity customers,” says Luis Enrique Mejía Rosales, the son of Merendero Biarritz’s founder, Esther Rosales. “When they were opening the storefront, the famous [Mexican] bull-fighter Luis Procuna came up to my mother and said, ‘Call it Biarritz!’ He had come back from a tour in Europe and had fallen in love with a woman in Biarritz.” So, in 1956, when the family opened a storefront on Doctor Velasco Street, they called it Merendero Biarritz. Merendero, because they sold “meriendas,” nighttime snacks. The restaurant’s founder, Esther, now 82, arrived in Mexico City from the near-by state of Morelos in 1950, when she was just 15 years old. She started working at a food stand that sold chicken soup and tacos dorados, fried tacos, along Cuauhtémoc Avenue in Doctores.

The bird that holds pride of place at the Thanksgiving table has just as important a role south of the border. Turkey has actually been a fundamental part of Mexican cooking for centuries: The Aztecs had domesticated the fowl before they had even laid eyes on a chicken. And while chicken has since overtaken turkey in popularity, the latter remains the traditional feasting bird all over the continent (yes, in Canada too). In Mexico, turkey is usually eaten at weddings and Christmas, but in Mexico City, there are a handful of restaurants that sell turkey tortas all year round.

Mexico City’s Mercado Jamaica, a jumble of produce vendors and flower sellers, is not a place you would expect to find a gourmet establishment in. But this is what makes this public market so appealing: Hidden away among the various vendors in this massive market are several outstanding food spots, ranging in size and scope from a nondescript green chorizo taquería to a fine-dining seafood spot. Mariscos El Paisa didn’t start out as a “gourmet” restaurant when it first opened back in 1958 – like many other market establishments, it was humble and unpretentious. But in recent years, the kitchen has upped its game, putting out elevated seafood dishes (although the restaurant still retains an unpretentious vibe).

Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead), or at least some variation of it, has been an annual celebration in Mexico for over 3,000 years. During the Aztec period, it took the form of a festival in August dedicated to Mictecacihuatl, otherwise known as the Lady of the Dead. Today it is one of Mexico’s most colorful holidays, encompassing popular traditions both old and new. To the Aztecs, death was nothing to be feared; it was but a passage and a continuation to the next level of consciousness. Life was viewed as a state of dreaming and death was when someone was truly awakened from their slumber. The Aztecs’ monthlong festival was meant to honor those who had passed on and to entice their souls to visit once more.

Calabaza en tacha (pumpkin boiled with raw sugar) is a common sight in the days leading up to Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) in Mexico City. The candied pumpkin features prominently on the altars built by families to entice the spirits of the dead to visit once again.

It’s no surprise that La Central de Abasto, Mexico City’s expansive wholesale market and the largest such market in the world, is constantly in motion. From the carretilleros, employees who move produce on dollies and whistle to signal that they’re passing through, to the steady stream of customers, the market pulses with energy. It’s a Friday afternoon when Diana Ávila, a programs director at the market, tours us around. As we pass neatly stacked piles of fruit and a banda playing in one of the hallways, she explains how this is the epicenter of Mexico’s food industry, a place where culture, food and community connect.

As soon as you enter Mercado Jamaica, one of Mexico City’s largest markets, you will quickly see (and smell) its main trade: flowers. Down the long aisles, hundreds of sellers line up colorful flowers that come from Xochimilco and other states. Visiting the market truly engages all the senses. But, you may ask, how does this include taste? Well, Jamaica Market happens to be home to several outstanding food vendors, among them one of our favorite taco stands in all of Mexico City. Hidden away among the market’s produce vendors, this stand doesn’t have a sign, and you can easily miss it if you don’t know what you’re looking for. Once you find it, though, you’ll keep coming back for their superb green chorizo tacos.

In the past five years, Mexico City has flourished as an international tourist destination, and the Roma and Condesa neighborhoods are the city’s crown jewels for travelers. A typical weekend in bohemian Roma or posh Condesa might include a late lunch of tuna tostadas at Contramar, followed by a drink at Cervecería del Barrio, a bar and restaurant overlooking the scenic Plaza Cibeles. Nightclubs and bars abound, as well as tacos to chow down at 3 a.m. when bars close. But the earthquake on September 19 put the brakes on the renaissance of Roma and Condesa. At least five buildings in the area collapsed in the 7.1 magnitude quake, and dozens more suffered damage so severe that residents were evacuated.

Mexicans can mark their calendars by what they’re eating: moles for weddings, pan de muerto for Day of the Dead, lomo and codfish for Christmas and chiles en nogada for Independence Day. Every September 15 and 16 Mexicans gather together to celebrate their independence from Spanish rule. This movement started in the city of Dolores Hidalgo, in the state of Guanajuato, the night of September 15, 1810, when Father Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla gave el grito de Dolores (“the Cry of Dolores”) that ignited the War of Independence. This war lasted until 1821, when Agustín de Iturbide, who later became the first Mexican Emperor, signed the Treaty of Córdoba that granted Mexico its independence.

Mexico City is absolute paradise for lovers of excellent street food, and one of our recently-launched walks is devoted entirely to the city's best tacos, including a favorite sidewalk stall. Intrepid eaters awaited!

At 2 p.m., the lunch rush begins at El Trapiche, a restaurant along Mexico City’s chaotic Avenida Revolución. Two women arrive from a nearby office and ask for the set lunch menu, comida corrida, that El Trapiche serves for 60 pesos (or around $3.30). “Today we have baleadas,” says Lilian Mendoza Rivera, El Trapiche’s owner and manager. “Is that like a sope?” one of the women asks, referring to a corn-based Mexican dish, also topped with beans. “No, they’re better,” says Lilian, “Try it.”

In Mexican cuisine, sweets are for the most part simple treats that are enjoyed at the park, market or beach, such as caramelized fruits and vegetables, blocks of nuts or amaranth seeds held together with honey, or small rice paper cakes filled with honey. The common denominator of most of these sweets is their simplicity. When it comes to ice cream and other frozen delights, however, the country truly shines, with an astounding variety of cold treats to please sweet tooths of every persuasion. The range of frozen desserts found in Mexico City includes everything from raspados – ice shavings served in plastic bags or cups to which a flavor of choice is added – to Italian gelato served in some of the most sophisticated restaurants in town.

One of the newest additions to our Mexico City walk repertoire is an exploration of the urban eco-reserve of Xochimilco. We start by taking in its colorful market and the traditional flavors found there. 

It is not hubris to say you have the best tortas (Mexican sandwich) in town when you have been serving them for more than 80 years. Take Tortas La Texcocana, which has been serving the delicious sandwiches in Mexico City since the early 1930s – their longevity suggests an unsurpassable skill for sandwich-making. The business was founded by León Sánchez, a Texcoco native, in downtown Mexico City. He started selling sardine tortas to newspaper workers on the street. In 1936, he established a small shop that sold various items, his famous tortas among them. Tortas La Texcocana is in the same venue where Sánchez set up his shop many decades ago.

A sweet warmth lies just below the surface of Condesa’s über-cool Angelopolitano. Walking through the front door, we were first struck by the restaurant’s elegant decor, which exists somewhere between hipster chic and business casual. Potted plants sitting beneath framed 19th-century photographs make the space feel more like an art gallery than a place to eat. Such an environment would be off-putting if it weren’t for the staff, who flashed big smiles as we entered and spoke to each other in a familial, teasing tone you’d more expect to hear at a friend’s dinner party than an upscale restaurant.