Mexico City’s Compelling Collisions of Culture and Cuisine

Palacio de Bellas Artes | Credit: Matt Kettmann

While sipping copas of artisan mezcal and chilled Coronitas in a small courtyard off of the leafy streets of Mexico City’s Roma Norte neighborhood, we stood in rapt attention as our tour guide approached what seemed to be the critical point in his detailed explanation of lucha libre, the theatrical wrestling style beloved across Mexico.

Our small group of tourists — including seven of my friends plus people from Dallas, London, Australia, Brazil, and elsewhere — were about to experience the spectacle for the first time, and we were all wondering what to expect. We’d already learned about the masks (and would later get our own), the nationwide popularity of the midcentury superstar El Santo, and that most matches pit rudos (a k a the bad guys) against técnicos (a k a good guys), but it felt like we were on the verge of real wisdom.

“There will be small people in costumes — they are not children, they are adults, and they want to be there,” said Daniel, our El Taco Club guide, with a grin. “They will be thrown, and we will all laugh.”

Aspiring luchadores | Credit: Matt Kettmann

And laugh we did, after chowing down the best al pastor tacos of the trip and entering the Arena México, where more than 10,000 people cheered on wrestlers of all shapes and sizes. There was indeed a little man dressed in a red devil outfit. He was indeed smashed against the railings outside of the stadium. And it was indeed completely to the crowd’s delight, for he happened to be aligned with the bad guys, at least as far as I could tell.

But chuckling at the diminutive dude’s demise was just one quick flash of the ever-spinning disco-ball extravaganza that is lucha libre, which blends athletic acrobatics, colorful costumes, confusing storylines, saber-rattling showmanship, and, for many, intense, even generational emotions into a curiously harmonious whole. We weren’t exactly sure what the show would be like, but what we witnessed was far more than whatever we’d imagined — more visceral, more exciting, more hilarious, more engaging, more … well, just more.

A Saturday sunset in CDMX | Credit: Matt Kettmann

That’s about how it went for our entire four-night, five-day exploration of Mexico City, which went down unanimously as one of the best annual trips yet for our KIA crew. Friends for more than 25 years (though some go back to grade school) who’ve been traveling like this since 2010, our group amassed the full force of eight people for this year’s trip, including our farthest-flung associate who came all the way from Prague.

We certainly weren’t alone in our desire to visit this fifth-largest city in the world, which clocks in at about 22 million residents as of last count. As Daniel explained, his company’s Lucha Libre and taco tours are blowing up right now, and tourists — particularly from the United States — can’t seem to get enough of Mexico City. We did seem to be a significant portion of the Arena Mexico crowd.

Like other visitors to CDMX, as it’s commonly abbreviated, we were drawn by many factors, not the least of which were the relatively low prices afforded by a strong dollar. Uber rides were cheap, even in the Black or XL versions, as were everyday items, from water jugs to bottled beer. But the price discrepancies were most evident in the seven-room mini-mansion called Casa Xalli that we rented on a quiet street in the quaintly chic neighborhood of Condesa — it was the same nightly price as a Santa Barbara hotel suite, split between eight of us.

Breakfast at Lardo in Condesa (left) and shrimp and chili oil bites at Lorea | Credit: Matt Kettmann

The food was another critical hook, from constant tacos at El Califa, Maizajo, and elsewhere to more elaborate affairs, like the mimosa-laden breakfast of shakshuka and spearmint eggs at Lardo (plus a box of their pastries to take home) and the prix-fixe, wine-paired dinner at Lorea (okay, that one was actually expensive, at nearly $300 each, and a touch underwhelming). If you are looking to crush some of CDMX’s world-class eateries like Pujol (which I visited about a decade ago), Quintonil, or Rosetta — all of which, among others, just won Michelin stars this week — make sure to get reservations way in advance. I tried in vain to get reservations at all three back in early March.

Flame-finished, salt-baked pompano (left) and chicken tortilla soup at Hacienda de los Morales | Credit: Matt Kettmann

The happiest surprise on the dining front was our last dinner at what we’d heard from locals could be a slightly stuffy, traditional spot called Hacienda de los Morales. Granted, the old ranch-style spread — which dates back to 1647, though does recall a prototypical El Torito — may not score high on the big-city hipster meters. But the ant egg appetizer, duck carnitas, tacos al gobernador, chicken tortilla soup, grilled steaks, and tableside preparations of salt-crusted pompano, abalone crudo, and Caesar salad appeased us all.

A guide explains the pulque process (left) and a surprisingly massive pulque | Credit: Matt Kettmann

Drinks were a constant diversion as usual. Cocktail culture is strong in CDMX, like everywhere else, and there were gems of Mexican wine to be found as well, though that homegrown category remains emergent and a little elusive even in the capital city. Mezcal made multiple appearances, perhaps best in the bottle brought to us by my friend and Wine Enthusiast colleague Nils Bernstein. (Remember this Salinas Valley taco crawl we did, and his oyster book?) But our pulque lesson proved most memorable, as we saw the gurgling gunk in the husk of the maguey plant before indulging in the lightly fizzy, kombucha-esque thirst-quencher at Rancho Azteca.

Checking out Teotihuacan (left) and an Aztec dancer outside of Teotihuacan | Credit: Matt Kettmann

Even more broadly appealing to the traveling masses that Mexico City’s world-class food might be its seemingly endless fountain of culture. Its millennia-deep history spans from the pre-Aztec and Aztec peoples into those shattering waves of Spanish domination/colonization amid Lebanese, Filipino, Chinese, Japanese, and other immigrant influxes. All of those eras and influences simmer just below the surface and frequently spill forth, whether on street names, in museum exhibits, or right there on your plate.

We spent our first morning at the temples of Teotihuacan, seeing where sacrificial humans spent their final moments watching their chests be ripped open and hearts yanked out before their heads were cut off and dismembered pieces tossed down the stone stairs to the cheering masses below. When it wasn’t vanquished warriors getting such treatment, it was the winners of the ball games who were granted such honors, the losers apparently left to wallow in their failures on this earthly plane. Since these pre-Aztecans peoples did not leave any obvious written records, their motivations for such escapades remain as unknown to modern observers as do the meanings of the detailed murals that still adorn the walls, often stunningly vibrant in color due to being buried for centuries.

A Diego Rivera mural in Palacio de Bellas Artes | Credit: Matt Kettmann

But visions of the future are just as present as the past in Mexico City. The murals by Diego Rivera, David Alfaro Siqueiros, and others in the Palacio de Bellas Artes boast sci-fi vibes in 20th-century contexts, or take the National Museum of Anthropology, whose eons’ worth of artifacts would require two full days, if not more, to fully appreciate. (We barely ingested a quarter of it in two-plus hours.) These antiquities surround a top-down water fountain encased in a massive slab that appears to be floating in space, like a relic from a galaxy far, far away. Old and mysterious, meet new and mysterious.

Matt and Greg at the anthropology museum (left) and the central water feature in the Museum of Anthropology | Credit: Matt Kettmann

Those juxtapositions — old and new, rich and poor, death and life, slow walks along wooded parkways as thick traffic rushes by — abound in Mexico City, casting an everything-all-at-once glow to every step. We unknowingly embodied such dichotomies on our last night, chowing down on the historic Hacienda’s ant eggs (an ancient Mexican snack) before riding multiple elevators up to a bar on the 38th floor of the Ritz-Carlton, which opened inside of a shimmering tower in the Reforma neighborhood less than three years ago.

Mexico City at night from the 38th floor of the Ritz | Credit: Matt Kettmann

Somehow, we scored the bar’s last good seats, with views of both the entire twinkling city and the massive television broadcasting the boxing match between champion Canelo Alvarez, who’s from Guadalajara, and challenger Jaime Munguia of Tijuana. There we were, that kind of CDMX juxtaposition in real life: sipping fancy cocktails in a shiny skyscraper as millions of rich, poor, and everything in between sprawled out beneath us, their attention and ours tuned into a brutal, bloody sport that’s as old as humankind.

Goofy for Gamay

I’m a bit in love with gamay noir, the grape originally from France’s Beaujolais region that has recently been planted across a few regions across the Central Coast and even up into Sonoma and the Sierra Foothills. I wrote a piece about that for Wine Enthusiast that you can read here. If you’re more in the mood for me arguing against something, read my takedown of cabernet sauvignon, specifically why it’s the worst first grape to start on for wine neophytes.

From Our Table

Taste of Santa Barbara is throwing an ambitious soirée on May 17, which is bringing together some of the best chefs in the region to prepare two dishes each, most of them inspired by Julia Child herself. | Credit: Courtesy

Here are some other stories you may have missed:

George Yatchisin and I collaborated on this week’s cover story about the Taste of Santa Barbara series of events that continue through this weekend. Read that here.
Last week, I wrote about the sale of Sea Smoke to Constellation Cellars.
Leslie Dinaberg previewed this weekend’s annual Peace of Mind vineyard walk hosted by Alma Rosa Winery.
And Nick Welsh was watching the Board of Supervisors meeting last week when the renewed push by the Santa Barbara Vintners to create a business improvement district surprisingly came to a bit of a head.