My first, self-organized Mexico City street food tour

Just around the corner from my house, there’s a line of street food stands maybe six deep. They’re so close, we can hear the dudes rolling out their steel carts in the wee morning hours. At various times of they day, you can find chocolate and rice atole, plastic cups brimming with yogurt and cereal, sandwiches (some made with American-style bread, others on bolillos); flautas, carnitas tacos, tacos de suadero. And sunglasses and ties, too.

It’s a travesty that I haven’t tried any of it yet. So yesterday I grabbed my friend Alice, a street food fiend, and we hit the streets for our first-ever Mexico City street food tour.

Here were our rules:

Keep it manageable. We’d only visit stands near Cuauhtemoc, which is my neighborhood. On the next tour, we’ll delve into other areas. (Like the stands on the south side of Plaza de Insurgentes. GOD they look good.)

Share. We’d split every item, as to keep tummies hungry for more food.

Be efficient. We’d keep the tour to 1 1/2 hours. (This was my rule. I had to be back to continue working on a story.)

Street food essentials to have in my purse:

Here’s how it went to down. Pics and details after the jump.

STOP ONE: Burrito Stand at the corner of Insurgentes and Calle Havre

I pass this stand on my way to the Metrobus, and there’s always a crowd. After work it’s especially bad — you can barely make your way on the sidewalk. At 1 p.m. yesterday, they had maybe five customers. I figured we’d order off the hand-written menu. (It’s the orange thing below.)

Turned out they had a real, laminated menu. Filled with gorgeous-sounding concoctions like ground beef, bacon, refried beans and avocado. Not wanting to fill up at our first stand, we chose the flor de calabaza burrito, which came with mushrooms, onions, beans and cheese.

A jolly man who appeared to have eaten his fair share of yummy burritos constructed it right in front of us. It was pure food porn. He grabbed a handful of bright orange calabaza flowers, and tossed them on the grill. Ssssss!

He added handfuls of mushrooms and onion. And then chopped everything with a metal scraper. Plop plop plop plop.

He sprinkled a handful of white, lovely grated cheese, and scooped the mix onto a warm flour tortilla.

“What kind of salsa do you want?” the nice burrito man asked us.

“Uh… red?” I said.

“No.” He shook his head and pointed to a menu hanging up on the back of the stand. A salsa menu. With freaking almendras con chipotle!

I was momentarily disoriented — do they really have a salsa menu here, or am I living in a dream world? — so we chose the chile morita, which is a smoked and dried red jalapeño. He grabbed a plastic ketchup bottle containing the sauce, squirted on a few tablespoons, and then rolled up our burrito and presented it on a styrofoam plate. I also ordered a Squirt. And then I felt very lucky to be alive and living in Mexico.

We bit into it. This burrito was awesome. It was smoky from the chile morita, and cheesy, and filled with tender bits of veggies. Oh god. I could have another one. But no, I couldn’t. Had to get to the next stand.

Price for burrito: 25 pesos (about $1.80 USD)
Overall rating: 5 out of 5

STOP TWO: Huaraches on the corner of Rio Lerma and Rio Amazonas

Two men in suits and ties stood in front of this place, eating what looked like a burrito made from a corn tortilla. The presence of Mexican businessmen in front of a street-food stand is always a good sign. And more burritos?! Uh, YEAH.

Alice asked the cook what she was selling — she wore a checkered smock that’s very common here among service workers, as well as a hairnet — and the lady said huaraches. So we ordered one with potatoes, rajas (strips of roasted poblano pepper) and quesillo. And then we sat down on the little plastic stools in front of the stand and waited.

The thing ended up being huge. One long, thick, corn tortilla, topped with diced potatoes, rajas, salsa and a spandexy layer of cheese.

Unsure of how we were supposed to eat it — neither of us really wanted to roll it up like a burrito — we ended up picking at the thing from either side, tearing off bits of the tortilla, and gathering the potatoes and rajas on top in a mound. I liked it, but Alice was lukewarm. “I’ve had better,” she said. “And there’s something about the potatoes.” She was right. They were kind of bland. And the cheese was rubbery.

Price: 23 pesos (about $1.67 USD)
Overall rating: 3 out of 5

On the way to our next stop, I spied this menu in front of a small, comida-corrida style restaurant. Made a mental note to return someday soon for the potato-skin tacos.

Stop 3: “Antojitos Mexicanos” stand next to the juice guy at Rio Sena and Rio Papaloápan

We were now entering my ‘hood. A stand near the end of the line on Rio Sena is the only one that sets up on Saturdays. (The rest are there Monday through Friday only.) I figured that was a good sign. Alice got two tacos de suadero; I ordered one potato-and-cheese flauta. By then I wasn’t too hungry.

A woman plucked a pre-friend flauta from a stack behind the counter, and handed it to me on a plastic plate. Buckets of salsa sat in front of the stand, so customers could add their own toppings. Watching how the guy did it before me, I first added crema; then salsa; then shredded iceberg lettuce, then queso fresco, then lime. The result:

Alice’s two tacos didn’t look bad either.

Unfortunately, the food was just okay. The flauta was average, despite all the crazy toppings. I’ve had better at Mercado Arcos de Belén, a few blocks from Mercado San Juan. I thought Alice’s tacos were fine, but she said she’s had better. This is why I need Alice to lead the next street food tour.

Price: 10 pesos for the flauta, 20 pesos for both tacos
Overall rating: 3 out of 5

STOP FOUR: Carnitas stand, next to pirated CD/DVD stand, on Rio Sena between Reforma and Rio Papaloápan

Feeling kinda glum about my flauta, I wandered over to the stand that had the largest group of people. (You can see it above, in front of the lady with the white jacket.) Squeezing my way to the front, past Mexican men in button-down shirts and ties, I saw a man furiously chopping meat on a round cutting board. This meat looked perfect: Tender, white, covered in a brown, crispy skin. I asked Alice if she wanted one, but she kind of moaned and said she was full.

So I got four tacos. One for me and three for the hubby, who was stuck at home waiting for the gas guy.

“What kind of tacos?” the lady asked me.

“That,” I said, pointing at the meat on the cutting board.

Later, I learned that there are two words for carnita tacos here. One is maciza, which means pure pork. The other is surtida, which means pork and bits of fried fat called gorditos. Since I was vague, the lady gave me four surtidas. Which ended up being fine. She poured some green salsa into a plastic baggy and tied it with a knot. Then she filled a separate baggy with chopped onion and cilantro, and lime wedges. This is what I had when I got home:

It was delicious, though not rock-my-world tasting. The meat could have been juicier, and the tortillas tasted store bought. But I would so go here again for lunch. And since I haven’t gone to the grocery store yet, maybe I will even go there today…

Price: 10 pesos per taco
Overall rating: 4 out of 5

Lessons learned

Next time, I’ll carry my own beverage in my purse. It’s much cheaper than buying a soda at every stand. And next time I’ll bring more money — at least 70 pesos, just to be on the safe side.

Just to give you a sense of scale, this is the area we covered in 1 1/2 hours. It’s about four blocks.

So. Who’s up for the next tour?