In large cities, third wave coffee shops are some of the best places to taste traditional breakfasts with modern spins. However in Mexico, the specialty coffee shops focus solely on farm-to-cup coffee. (More about that here.) Still, Mexico City doesn’t lack such breakfasts. I extended my quest and found third-wave tortillerias, chic Chilaquiles, glorious Guayaba rolls and exquisite esquites. The last isn’t even really a breakfast.
Third-Wave Tortillerias
A tortilleria, is the most basic institution in Mexico. Like bakeries in Germany, but simpler. They are on every street. A metal gated house-front, behind it a machine rolls through the tortillas, moms and sons flip and pile them, and they are ready to be packed into cloth towels – brought along by residents buying their daily dose.
Just like Domberger or Albatross in Berlin, it’s Cintli, Maizajo and El Molino de Pujol that turn a classic factory into an artisan gem. All shades of native corn are turned into a variation of corn dough and even swirled into traditional drinks.
Cintli
– is a completely organic tortilleria and café that adds superfoods to their corn creations. Find spirulina, amaranth-chia, hemp, turmeric or cacao in classic breakfast and lunch dishes as well as turmeric-atole and matcha-atole on the menu.
Maizajo
– is the minimalistic tortilleria, far from beaten tracks. Blue, red and yellow tortillas, are swirled together into a soft rainbow disk. I’ll make the trip next time.
El Molino de Pujol
– is the latest creation by Enrique Olvera. Thanks to him, fine-dining and farm-to table cuisine have become established in the capital. His cafés and restaurants also set the basis of my quest. El Molino, literally the mill of his most famous restaurant Pujol, is the most approachable Olvera creation.
Casually come for breakfast or lunch to taste native colours of corn designed into minimal enmoladas, tamales, tacos. You’ll taste the difference in their traditional drinks as well. Agua de Maiz or Atole.
Chic Chilaquiles
Chilaquiles, the fried tortilla chips, made soggy in salsa, topped with sour cream, cheese, and egg or chicken – that hangover breakfast – has also taken turns.
eno
This child of Enrique Olvera’s, a hip café serving traditional breakfasts with local and organic ingredients, currently has five locations. Coffee comes from Buna, tortillas milled at Molino El Pujol, organic eggs from Finca San Gabriel . . . each producer, farmer, and market is written on eno’s menu.
In Mexican style we started with a beautiful concha, thick amaranth-atole and a Buna cappuccino. Followed by a savory tamale, and finalised with our first ornate Chilaquiles. They were crunchy.
Café Niddo
For more chilaquiles I met Brenda on a side street of pedestrianized Reforma. Sunday morning. After an hour wait at the picturesque bordeaux-colored corner, spots freed up for us – next to a family with children dressed in tutus, a couple in sportswear after their morning run, and Natalia Lafourcade. Where else do you casually expect to meet celebrities?
Locals seemed as excited about Café Niddo’s fluffy pancakes, as Berlin’s millennials rave about the tower at Annelies. However we came for the one Mexican dish on Niddo’s menu: Chilaquiles. Red, soggy and topped with sharp queso rancho. This abundant bowl was the most chic I had of it’s kind.
The quest, with Chilaquiles, continued in my mind, but didn’t make it to my palate. Still waiting are Café NIN (the café attached to one of the Panaderias Rosetta), Sartoria, Buna’s neighbors, and the contemporary restaurant Alba. These hotspots are rumoured to add artisanal burrata, homemade pancetta or burnt onion powder to their bowls of soggy crunch.
Glorious Guayaba Rolls
How can I not mention Panaderia Rosetta for a dainty pastry breakfast. If it were not for the Rol de Guayaba, the artisanal bakery would be too ‘Paris’. Still stunning, but not worth a flight around the world. However, Panaderia Rosetta rolls a crispy, soft filo-dough and fills it with queso crema and guava marmelade. Like “cream cheese and Marmelade” inverted in a croissant, but as a roll. Of the three locations, the original on Colima street is most intimate. Dimly lit, sit between locals reading newspaper, savouring hand-rolled pastries with a Buna espresso, cardamom-coconut juices or picturesque fruit bowls – it did feel like Paris some decades ago. Yup, I lived in that time.
Exquisite Esquites
Looking for real Mexican foods, even with modern twists, inevitably leads to corn. Esquites is like elote (which is corn on the cob, smeared with mayonnaise, cheese, salt, lime and chili powder) however esquites are shaved into a styrofoam cup. It traditionally isn’t eaten for breakfast, but as a late-night snack.
Mexico city’s new restaurants also take this street-food classic and put a funky spin on it. Tres Tonala, for dinner, with homemade smokey aubergine mayonnaise. Wow. Masala y Maìz for breakfast, in hand pottered ceramics, from the open kitchen – out comes esquites with coconut milk simmered to a porridge.
Maybe next time I should continue my quest and explore the space of esquites.
Nothing like looking at Ookie dough as an antidote to shortening days and rain laden skies… what a festival of food and life. We should all be in Mexico city at the moment.