Fine dining in the centro: Azul Histórico & Padrinos

Arriving in Mexico City in 1987, I was lured by the sordid, thrilling cauldron of mysterious activity. The past lingered over a decrepit, crumbling centro histórico, which had been brought to its knees by the recent earthquake. The centro intrigued me: I observed dusty alleys and hallways into which scurried enigmatic characters who disappeared into their anachronistic places of business.

Food decidedly caught my attention. Alluring aromas emanated from ancient taquerías, whose aquamarine walls were blackened by decades of greasy smoke. Bow-tie clad waiters served now extinct beverages and midnight breakfasts at the timeworn Café Cinco de Mayo. Old-timers imbibed at century-old pulquerías and cantinas, downing the free botanas and reminiscing about better times. But the centro was in a slow and sure decline. It was quiet at night. The hotels around the Alameda area, once vibrant and aglow, were gone. Agustin Lara no longer sung at the Hotel Regis, Revelers didn't dress up for a glamorous evening out. And there certainly was no ‘nice’ place to have dinner downtown.

It took decades for the centro to come back. Deco gems sat forlornly waiting to be brought back to life by developers with good taste. Opera-lovers drove their vehicles straight into the Palacio de Bellas Artes’ parking lot and back out after the show. No one thought of the centro as a cool place to spend an evening.

Things have changed. Carlos Slim invested. Artists rented and bought. Pioneers pioneered. And now, clubs, restaurants, bars and music venues abound. It’s like the old days, when San Juan de Letrán was abuzz with show-biz and glitz. Well almost. Just stroll down groovy Calle Regina, a pedestrianized street full of nice bars with outdoor seating, just like in Madrid. Catch a set of jazz at Zinco, buried, Village Vanguard-like, in a Deco palace. Or take in the decidedly Mexican gay scene on República de Cuba. Once abandoned streets throng into the wee hours.

Until recently, however, there was still no nice place to have dinner. That has changed. A forgotten colonial building has been renovated (tastefully, I might add) by the Hábita group, who brought you the Condesa DF. And two new restaurants, branches but not clones, have installed themselves. It's a good thing.

A Bouquet of Blues: Azul Histórico

Azul y Oro is on every Mexi-foodie’s ‘must try’ list. It serves up well-researched and expertly prepared regional Mexican fare. The baby of chef/culinary investigator Ricardo Muñoz Zurita and named after the eponymous college colors, it’s located in the cultural heart of the campus of UNAM (Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México). Muñoz deserves “national living treasure” status for his tireless work conserving and documenting our country’s rich culinary traditions. He is author of the superb Diccionario Enciclopédico de Gastronomía Mexicana, an invaluable resource (hard to find, but soon to be re-published in a new edition), as well as other attractive cookbooks. Last year, a much-anticipated branch, Azul Condesa, opened to much fanfare. I was not impressed. The quality of the food seemed neglected in favor of fancy décor and pomp.

Service was perfunctory. The new venue is better. The colonial patio, brought up to date with simple modernist touches is covered. It’s shady by day, dreamy at night and is a delightful place to sit. The menu is the same as at the Condesa branch and is similar, although slightly more expensive than the original university location. Mexican standards as well as rarely seen specialties are offered. Start with a tamalito de acelgas (a tamal stuffed with swiss chard and fresh cheese), or the soothing and savory crema de cilantro. Standard ‘international’ salads are available for those who want something light. I like the house specialties, my favorite being the ravioles crujientes rellenos de pato, a fusion dish of deep-fried wontons filled with duck then bathed in a deep, dark chocolaty Oaxacan mole. And the cochinita is top-notch.
An unusual vegetarian option is the enchiladas de jamaica orgánica, fragrant tortillas filled with tart, fruity hibiscus flowers and augmented by a mildly picante tomato/chipotle sauce. As at the other venues, regional ‘festivals’ are presented, such as a recent celebration of Oaxacan cooking. A couple of unusual moles and pipianes I sampled (one white, the other green) were somewhat bland: intriguing conceptually but not so well realized. The food here sometimes seems toned down to a banal level; it can lack punch. Service is attentive and the wine/tequila/mezcal list is comprehensive. Expect to spend from $200-400 pp. I do not hesitate to recommend this much needed high-level and lovingly Mexican dining option. It’s a great place to take your out of town guests or stop for a relaxing lunch before shopping at the original Nouveau Palacio de Hierro.

All in the family: Padrinos

Located in the same complex, Padrinos is an offshoot of the ever-popular see-and-be-seen Condesa/Roma venues Primos and Sobrinos. Their menus are similar although here prices seem to be steeper. While the name may conger up a Greek diner or a local mafia hangout, the food is mostly Mexican –nicely presented, satisfying, and, perhaps, even better here than at the other branches. The subtitle “cocina del barrio” implies informality, a menu for sharing with friends. An intriguing and changing menu is divided into surf and turf, the bill of fare consisting of classic Mexican antojitos such as tacos, tostadas, and seafood cocktails as well as heartier international dishes such as steak frites and house made pastas. The burger, one of the best in the city according to J, is very good, but quite pricey at $190 - ¿Vale la pena?

The pretty interior is done retro/bistro style, old-fashioned mosaic floors and all. But best of all is the lovely patio. A huge ‘green wall’ provides oxygen and peace of mind.

Be sure to visit the shops upstairs, on the mezzanine level. I will report on the them down the line when construction is done. But meanwhile, you can pick up a copy of the newly revised Good Food in Mexico City at Culinaria Mexicana.

Azul Histórico

Isabel la Católica 30

Tel.: 5521-3295 / 5510-1316

Open Monday-Saturday 9AM to 1:30AM, Sunday until 6PM

Padrinos

Isabel la Católica 30

Tel.: 5510-2394 / 5510-2409
Open: Monday,Tuesday 8AM - 11:30PM, Wednseday - Saturday until midnight, Sunday until 6

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I've Got a Right to Sing the Blues: Azul Condesa

The long anticipated opening of the Condesa branch of one of the city’s finest Mexican restaurants, Azul y Oro has happened at last. The original, on every Mexi-foodie’s ‘must try’ list, serves up well-researched and expertly prepared regional Mexican fare. The baby of chef/culinary investigator Ricardo Muñoz Zurita and named after the eponymous college colors, it’s located in the cultural heart of the campus of UNAM (Universidad Nacional Autonoma de México). Muñoz deserves “national living treasure” status for his tireless work conserving and documenting our country’s rich culinary traditions. He is author of the superb Diccionario Enciclopédico de Gastronomía Mexicana, an invaluable resource (hard to find, but soon to be re-published in a new edition), as well as other attractive cookbooks. So it was with edacious anticipation that I trotted over to the Condesa hot spot to try it out. Unfortunately, after two visits, I left singing the blues. Azul retains the same mouth-watering menu as the campus original. Added is a touch of uptown pretention. Perhaps the new hoity-toity context leads to harsher judgment, but too much of what I ate missed the marks. Beautifully presented, but under-seasoned and lackluster food was the order of the day.
The menu, the same or similar to that of the UNAM restaurant, offers Mexican standards redux as well as lesser-known regional specialties. Seasonal menus are offered: right now Veracruz is being feted with ‘Alma Jarocha’.

The new venue gets an A plus for ambience. Set in Ligaya’s old multi-level space it’s clean and slick, white with touches of blue and warm wood, and a jungle-covered wall in back. Sunny by day, warmly lit by night, there isn’t a bad seat in the house. Ambient music is adult and mercifully set at low volume.

Before ordering, comfortingly warmed but forgettable bread is served – and nothing else. No salsa, no butter, nada. Missing are those lovely crisp tostadas and interesting salsas I remember from the venue down under. So we ordered in a hurry.

The tamalito de acelgas (a tamal stuffed with swiss chard and fresh cheese) is comforting, but the savory crema de cilantro soup, one of my favorites at the other establishment, was served tepid and overly thickened. From the special menu came the mellifluous mogo mogo, or stuffed plantain. A pasty mashed plátano macho housing a one-dimentional picadillo and cloaked in a light tomato sauce disappoints –more thought went into arty presentation than flavor. Likewise, tostadas de bacalao betrayed a reticence in seasoning. Much better was a simple, traditional ceviche de pescado; it was well balanced and fresh as a daisy.

Standard ‘international’ salads are good, for those who want something light – the pear and blue cheese is generous and perfectly dressed.

Another ‘greatest hit’ from downtown, the ravioles crujientes rellenos de pato, (here morphed into buñuelos) is a fusion dish of deep-fried wontons filled with duck then bathed in a deep, dark smoky black Oaxacan mole. It’s still good, if a bit decadent.

Moving on, the only standout I sampled from the main menu was the pipian blanco: a tender chunk of pork is expertly seared and grilled, bathed in a light, ground toasted almond ‘pipian’ sauce and sparked by jazzy capers and green olives. It’s pretty, and it works - the subtle flavors and textures smoothly blend like Sinatra with strings. But the gustatory peaks stopped here. An ‘arroz a la tumbada’, from the Veracruz menu, was misconceived. “Where’s the rice?” my dining companion queried, recalling that old burger ad. A deep brick-red broth (to which more fire could be added), drowns a mini dose of seafood, while the elusive rice hides at the bottom. And it’s the wrong kind of rice--a more absorbent variety like Arborio would have given the dish the body it lacked. Jim’s enpipianadas were better, the creamy, nutty, jade-colored sauce a nice complement to the little chunks of sweet shrimp wrapped in house-made tortillas. But the shrimp were barely perceptible, the sauce trumps everything else. And the fish tikin-xic, borrowed from the Yucatecan school of heady red sauce shmeering and grilling, lacked bite and (again) was barely warm.

Desserts are good and worth the calories. A tiramisu was rich and sweet but not cloyingly so . On my ‘don’t miss’ list is still the hot chocolate –made either with milk or water, the chocolate itself comes from Oaxaca and is a special blend containing 30% almonds.

There is a decent but pricy wine list – most options are well over $400, and some ordinary vintages are priced at a whopping $95 per glass, seemingly out of proportion with food prices, which remain reasonable.

The Condesa is sorely in need of a good Mexican restaurant and Azul tries to fill the gap. It seems however, that the populist and accessible aspect of the original venue have been dropped in favor of the usual ‘uptown’ swank and trendy aspirations of this part of the metropolis. Cushy ambience and lovely presentation are no substitute for subtle and smart preparation. I sincerely hope that laurels are not being rested upon and that the staff will put more focus on its fare. I felicitate chef Muñoz et al, and recommend Azul Condesa, but with reservations – and you will need them.

Azul Condesa

Nuevo León 68
Tels. 5286-6268, 5286-6380

Open Monday-Saturday 1-12PM, sunday until 6

Azul Histórico, the new venue, is set in a lovely colonial patio at Isabel la Católica 30

*A note to my readers: See my recent post, a love letter to Egypt: www.planetgoodfood.blogspot.com

and, take a look at my recent article on http://www.zesterdaily.com/, a paean to Mexican street food