by Eric Barton | February 24, 2025
Venture into the Ultimate Taco Territory (and more) in Mexico City
We go in search of tacos and mole to see if the rumors of CDMXs culinary superiority are true.
I approached our trajinera driver knowing this conversation would be tricky. Like a lot of South Floridians, my Spanish is limited to ordering croquetas and cafes con leche so instead of attempting to use words, I decided to use charades to convey my request. I mimed the motion of holding the wooden pole-shaped oar and pushing our boat forward. The driver shrugged, but his smirk showed that he understood—less “What do you want?” and more “You asked for it.” With a casual handoff, he gave me the pole, leaving me to discover just how much skill it takes to navigate the famed canals.
In front of us was the winding system of waterways that striate the area known as Xochimilco (pronounced: so-chee-meel-koh). The Aztecs inhabited it long before the European settlers arrived, and it remains a series of canals that cut through the native wetlands south of Mexico City. Nowadays the canals are teeming with a rainbow fleet of covered trajineras, each carrying 20 or so hungry passengers who have come to savor food from vendors navigating the waters in dugout canoes carved from fallen trees, selling fresh tacos, tamales and more that they make right there on the small boats.
Discover the charm of Mexico City’s can’t-miss neighborhoods.
I stood on the stern of the trajinera, the oar gripped firmly with both hands and pushed down into the mucky bottom of the canal. The boat swerved left, then right as I overcorrected. Finally, our driver had to take over to straighten us out. My two buddies also took a turn. My friend Mike was last, and I think he’d admit that he was the most unsuccessful at steering the unwieldy craft. Heading dangerously toward the shore, he pushed hard on the oar to get back on track, which is when the oar shot up out of the water behind him. We heard a splash and looked back to see Mike’s wife, the best-dressed of us all in her white velour two-piece, looking shocked. She was polka-dotted from head to toe with Xochimilco mud.
The laughs we all tried—but failed—not to let out in that moment are what make this experience one of my fondest memories ever, our day floating on the Mexico City canals. As we drifted along, vendors pulled up to us with offerings of tacos al pastor, chicken-stuffed tamales and lemony micheladas in paper cups with spicy and sweet salt rims. For some, Xochimilco is a party trip, but for others it can also be a cruise into the flavors and foods of Mexico City.
Before going, I’d heard a whole lot of promises about our neighbor across the Gulf. Among the best foodie cities on the planet, many people told me about a place where fine-dining restaurants, taco stands and longstanding family-owned places abound.
Could it possibly be that the Mexico City food scene is as good as they say? To test the theory, we began our first night there on a grand tour de tacos.
Mexico City Test No. 1: Tacos
Club Tengo Hambre offers the type of tours you see on Tripadvisor and wonder if all the positive reviews are actually true. Our group of six met our tour guide just before dusk near Mexico City’s main square, Zócalo. From there, the animated 20-something led us to taco stands and tiny shops in the Centro Histórico and just beyond it. Mostly, these are places you simply wouldn’t find on your own, because they’re tucked away in neighborhoods not frequented by tourists or, by the look of them, you wouldn’t even know they’re restaurants.
That was clear from our first stop at Quesadillas Las Escaleras, which is nothing more than a woman leaning out the window of an apartment building. She handed us paper plates of quesadillas stuffed with squash blossoms and Oaxaca cheese—crispy outside with stretchy cheese within and hot sauce made from just-roasted chiles on top.
We continued on to Tacos de Canasta El Flaco—basically two guys serving tacos from a wicker basket out of a doorway. These were unlike any taco I’d had in the States. Soaked in sauce and piled on top of each other in the basket, they’re tender and soft, deeply flavored and seriously kicked up with red and green salsas you can add yourself from bowls next to the men. The next stop, Taquería Los Cocuyos, looks far more like a traditional restaurant, although we stood outside and ordered tacos al pastor from an open window. Similar to a gyro, the pork is shaved from a rotating spit while being blasted with a flame thrower so bits of the meat turn crispy as they fall onto the corn tortillas. It is then finished with shaved pineapple, an option that adds a little sweet to the savoriness of it all.
I’m not going to use words like transcendent to describe the experience of eating those tacos, because it would sound cliche and hard to believe, I’m sure. But I had one of those feelings where you know this is a food moment you want to remember, which I suppose is, well, transcendent.
My favorite stop from the tour, though, came toward the end, at Los Tacos Nocturnos, a spot that opens late, at 7 p.m. Wednesday through Saturday and 9 p.m. Monday and Tuesday, and doesn’t close until dawn, feeding workers of all-night print shops in an industrial area. I remember watching cheese from a chicken-and-peppers taco drip down Mike’s hand and my wife’s eyes roll back while nodding her head yes. “We could not possibly have one more taco,” we’d said when we got to that stop. But there we were asking for another.
Where Frida Kahlo Would’ve Eaten Tacos
Somehow, we still had one more stop—a churro stand near Palacio de Bellas Artes, where the buildings all look transported from the quartier de l’Opéra in Paris. If you go, this stand is on the southwest corner across from the park, and, in a city where churro stands are ubiquitous, this one is a standout for one good reason: They stuff their churros with chocolate and caramel. I’d suggest an order of each.
By the end of the tour, things were tasting good in Mexico City. Perhaps this city was all that was promised. But we still had more to devour.
Mexico City Test No. 2: White Tablecloth Restaurants
The next morning, we ate breakfast at El Cardenal, a stark contrast to the previous night’s street taco stands with its white tablecloths and grand building. It’s just a block from Zócalo, so I’d assumed when we booked this breakfast that it would be touristy. But the crowd waiting in the lobby of the restaurant looked mostly like locals celebrating birthdays, which built up anticipation for what was to come.
Our table was on the second floor, next to a window that overlooked the wonderfully chaotic people-watching-paradise of Calle de la Palma. Breakfast began with a basket of fluffy, buttery breads, some sweet and some cheesy. Then my huevos arrived, dotted with crumbled sausage and sitting atop a verde sauce that was herby and earthy.
If breakfast was a spectacle of activity and bold flavors, dinner brought a sense of tradition and intimacy. Later that night, we found ourselves dining at Restaurante Nicos on the north side of the city, a cherished spot where locals celebrate anniversaries and quinceaneras. There’s a mezcal cart and duck served in a mole that tastes like it was made with a hundred ingredients—chocolatey and nutty.
But perhaps the most memorable of meals we had during that trip came by happenstance as the driver we’d hired to take us to Xochimilco stopped along the way at a street corner chilaquiles cart. It’s a bit of a famous one, and the line went down the block and around the corner. We joined in and marveled, applauding at how fast the long line moved until we were up front, ordering sandwiches stuffed with tortillas.
That’s essentially the only thing they serve at La Esquina del Chilaquil, which was one of the first stands to sell the chilaquiles sandwich. I ordered mine with eggs, chicken, chips and green sauce. It was all things—crunchy, gooey, salty and punchy from the cilantro-heavy drizzle. Each wrapped in tinfoil, they were as long as my forearm, and we devoured them while standing there on the street corner.
On the way to the airport as the six of us sat in the van, stomachs full and spirits high, I couldn’t help but laugh at how far we’d come from that first mud-splattered moment on the canals. In between jokes about the white velour two-piece, we debated where Mexico City ranked among our all-time favorite food moments. For me, it was better than udon in Tokyo and gambas al ajillo in Madrid. Better than wild boar regu pasta in Florence and pepian stew in Guatemala. If I ate my way across the entire globe, I don’t believe I’d find a better food destination than Mexico City, where the best taco of your life is probably just down the block, wherever you are in the city.
Where to Stay in CDMX
Tucked in the heart of Mexico City’s Roma Norte neighborhood, La Valise is a masterclass in boutique hospitality. This artful retreat blends Parisian elegance with Mexican craftsmanship, and a 2023 expansion added five rooms to the townhouse’s original three. The space feels quintessentially Mexico City, with its teal and stone facade and lush backyard. Inside, the three 1,000-square-foot suites feel more like something at a private home than a hotel. Guests sway between worlds—unwinding in thoughtfully curated interiors adorned with local textiles, antique decorative fireplaces and vintage finds, then step out into the vibrant Roma neighborhood, once home to Jack Kerouac and Allen Ginsberg, bustling with galleries, cafes and leafy plazas. The hotel’s crown jewel? The Polaris suite, where a retractable bed lets you sleep under the stars. Talk about sweet dreams!
La Valise Mexico City
Tonalá 53, Roma Norte, Cuauhtémoc, 06700, Mexico City, Mexico
lavalisecdmx.com
