Illinois Redux: The Lincoln stays mid-century modern

I enter through heavy wooden doors, kept perfectly varnished, just as I had 25 years ago. I settle into one of the banquettes, nicely padded with coffee colored naugahide. I'm the only customer and the quiet's disconcerting. M. has not arrived, so I order lemonade and pretend to text.  A portly bow-tied waiter--of the old school--brings me a newspaper - how civilized, I think.
Then arrives a plate of raw vegetables with lime wedges. This is how it was back in the good old days of 20 years ago. Dining (not eating) out in Mexico. The new world hadn’t turned its back on the old. When nice restaurants looked to Madrid and not Tribeca for inspiration. When music was Mantovani and not head-pounding house.

The Restaurante Lincoln (the eponymous president’s visage appears in the logo) opened its doors in 1947. Just a few blocks from the Alameda, it quickly became a hangout for artists, politicians, and all sorts of VIPs, and remained so for decades. During its heyday, Agustin Lara serenaded crowds at the nearby Regis’ Capri Lounge, while the tres chic Hotel del Prado hosted the likes of Amalia Rodrigues and Edith Piaf - and they no doubt supped at the Lincoln. First run movies premiered at the massive Cine Alameda or the Palacio Chino, while those of a few months before continued their runs at the Odeon across the street. By the ‘70’s, when I arrived on the scene, the centro was well on its way down the path to decline. The 1985 earthquake nailed the coffin, which stayed shut for 20 years.

Less than a year after that horrific terremoto, I arrived to this once bustling center of cultural life on a Saturday evening. A disquieting pall had befallen the Alameda. I saw the Prado, crushed upon itself, as if King Kong had stepped right on it's middle. The flattened Regis had already been swept away. Rubble spilled from sidewalks onto the streets. After 11 p.m. the whole area was deserted.

 But the Alameda has been gussied up. New hotels, offices and apartment buildings have sprung up, and the 'ole Lincoln, God bless it, has managed to hang on. It continues to provide old-time comidas to lawyers and politicos. The décor remains colonial Illinois, '40's updated in the '70's: sepia line-drawing murals, a la Ludwig Bemelmans adorn the walls with nostalgic scenes of life from Mexico, Argentina and the American mid-west. A shiny baby grand rests patiently by the empty carpeted bar for boleros to be plucked out on it.

A few other tables start to fill up, but half the house is dark. M. arrives and we order from the Euro/Anglo/Mexican menu. He, going the anglo-retro route, chooses pechuga Cordon Bleu, a dish ubiquitous in 1947 but now practically extinct, except, perhaps, in cheap mid-west diners. The pounded chicken is plain, but crispy and melty-cheesy, as it should be. I opt for euro-mex and pick a daily special, ossobucco en salsa de pasilla. My hunk of bone, a refined version of the local chamorro, is surround by falling-apart veal in a rich, fragrant and earthy sauce. The tortillas are hand-done, yellow and chewy. The kitchen produces satisfying renditions of traditional dishes, classics of bourgeoise Mexican cookery.

 A sopa de flor de calabaza is perfumy and hearty. Chilpachole, the heady, picante Veracruz crab soup is done correctly; sopa de tortilla is just like mama used to make. A pipian verde I’ve sampled leaves no spice out and the pork is tender. And fish are smartly not overcooked and subtly flavored: worth trying is huachinango (red snapper) al cilantro.

 Standard, full-bodied Mexican breakfasts are offered although, as in the old style, dinner is not.

Prices are moderate-high - a full meal with drink or two will be $300-400 although you can do it for less.

M. and I leave sated, grateful for a heartening trip back to a time when it was ‘hip to be hep’ (or is it visa versa). Keep the candelabras lit.

Restaurante Lincoln Revillagigedo No. 24, near Juárez, south of the Alameda, Centro
Metro:  Bellas Artes, Juárez, Hidalgo
Tel: 5510-1468
Open Monday-Saturday 8 a.m.- 7 p.m., closed Sunday

See Google map: http://goo.gl/maps/4FkHe

Close to home: Maximo Bistrot Local

Note: The fine folks at Maximo have been recently caught in the vortex of a socioeconomic media fest, shedding light on ugly aspects of Mexican society: corruption and classism. See: 
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/30/world/americas/restaurant-http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/30/world/americas/restaurant-patrons-behavior-is-panned.html?ref=restaurantspatrons-behavior-is-panned.html?ref=restaurants
Here, I pay homage to this fine venue by republishing my review of last year.-
I love to criticize. I was raised in New York after all, where criticism is an art form. But Máximo Bistrot Local, a fine new venue for creative cuisine in the constantly up-and-coming Colonia Roma, defies even me to find fault.

Cool and chic Máximo replaces a dowdy medical supply store; where wheelchairs and artificial limbs were once sold you can find the best brandade de morue this side of the Seine. The space, airy and sunny during the day, warm and cozy at night, has been smartly and discreetly given new life. Windows and rooms, once blocked up, were opened, those lovely old tile floors, until not so long ago routinely torn out by tasteless renovators, have been replaced. Simple but comfortable wooden bistro chairs and tables are given room to breathe, both inside and out on the street. Adornment is minimal. Ambient music is mercifully turned low. It’s a space you’re happy to spend some time in. The kitchen is open to view—and the food coming out of that kitchen is worthy of hyperbole.

Chef Eduardo García, formerly of the esteemed Pujol, also worked at Manhattan’s star-strewn Le Bernardín, that high-falutin´temple of good fish. He has brought all of his gastronomic skills to his own place, along with his wife, the affable Gabriela. The only thing they left behind is pretension. The restaurant’s publicity claims that ‘materia prima’ is local and organic, if possible. The chef visits our spectacular markets daily, choosing what looks best,
then adroitly improvising a new menu each day.

The dishes are French and Italian in theory, Spanish in their simple elaboration, all with soulful respect for Mexican tradition. Food looks like food, not art.

The menu wisely sticks to five or six appetizers and the same number of ‘platos fuertes’.

A recent starter was so simply labeled it almost escaped my notice. ‘Sopa de raiz de apio y chicharro’ makes use of that divine root so common in France and so elusive here: celerie rave (celeriac in English). A simple, light cream of fresh pea, green as a Provençal field in spring, is perfumed with a refined essence of celery. The color and fragrance would have pleased Mme. Chanel. Esparragos y holandesa are not toyed with, just done correctly. They looked like the end result of an episode of The French Chef.

Another example: perfectly grilled octopus, tender as a baby’s thigh (must be) is complimented by a drizzle of ‘guajillo emulsion’. A couple of days later this combination had morphed into a brick-red creamy reduced chili sauce and a generous puddle of sautéed huitlacoche – essentially Mexican.

The tuna arrived seared on the top and sushi-pink in the middle, cloaked in a robe of red Mediterranean peperonata. Likewise, ‘filete de cerdo’ is left blushing and juicy in the center, as pork should be unless you’re doing carnitas. Smart.

Desserts are safely relegated to such Parisian bistro classics as a crackly crème bruleé or a rich pot de crème de chocolate. Richer still was a cheesecake of goat cheese, the likes of which I’ve seen neither in Paris, New York nor el DF.

The wine list is carefully chosen, featuring some unusual Mexican vintages—and there’s a good range of prices. Dinner with a glass of wine hovers around $300 pesos per person. A prix fixe comida is offered on weekdays for $150 pesos (ask if you don't see it on the menu).

After an excellent repast on a recent sun-drenched Sunday, my astute dining companion, The French Lady, recalled her favorite bistro in Paris, L’Ebauchoir. Wrinkling her nose in typical Parisian fashion, she agreed to be quoted. “This place reminds me of it.” she said. “It is very, very good!”

She needn’t say more. Nor will I.

Maximo Bistrot Local

Tonalá 133, corner of Zacatecas, (3 blocks south of

Av. Alvaro Obregón) Colonia Roma

Tel. 5264 4291

Open Tuesday – Saturday : 1 -11:00 pm,

Sunday, 11:00 am-7:00 pm

closed Monday

Ver mapa más grande

And the Angels Sing: Turtux

Margarita Salinas

San Angel, pretty and old-fashioned, was never a gourmand’s paradise.  Everybody raves about the margaritas at the San Angel Inn, but its food is ho-hum.  The Fonda San Angel tried hard but vied with Sanborn’s and lost for quality.

But now one can travel south (of the Viaducto) for fine dining a la Mexicana. While Colonia Roma may be on the cutting edge gastro-wise and the centro is putting ‘histórico’ back into the cazuela, it’s Avenida de la Paz that’s finally getting on the upscale traditional bandwagon. First it was Paxia, now there’s Turtux.

The affable chef and gastronome Margarita Salinas de Carrillo is recognized for her work in promoting Mexican cuisine throughout the world. She has campaigned for the UNESCO proposal to designate Mexican Cuisine as ‘Intangible Patrimony of the World’. She is a notable cooking teacher, and has written about the regional cuisines of Oaxaca, Michoacán and Chihuahua amongst others. Her restaurant Don Emiliano in Baja California won umpteen awards, and her book ‘Tamales y Atoles Mexicanos’, was just published by Larousse. And she has cooked for President Obama.

A mosaic of octopus

With chef Margarita’s newest venture here in Mexico City, we can all dine like a president. The name means 'butterfy' in Maya, but the food is multi-regional.

Her menu—almost as good to read as the food is to eat--is 'tweaked traditional', which, I’m happy to report, is all the rage these days. Artsy-fartsy pretention is left at the door. Grandma’s recipes are revived, overhauled, put together from the best local artisanal ingredients, gussied up a little bit to appeal to the 21^st century diner, and served on a plain white plate with a little drizzle of something just for effect. A case in point is an entrada 0f laminillas de pulpo al cilantro: the octopus, sliced razor thin and drizzled with a simple little cilantro salsa glimmers like a stained glass window – it’s lovely to look at, delightful in the mouth but simple, without annoying pretense.  

Spain's (or is it Italy's?)  gift to Mexico: fideo seco

The fideo seco, the classic dried noodle dish borrowed from the Catalán lexicon and ‘Mexicanized’ with chili, local cheese and avocado, is perfection itself, the pasta conserving just enough bite to please while the roast chili aroma dances around the nostrils.

Terciopelo de hongos is, as its name suggests, velvety and creamy and redolent of mushroom, the faint aroma of epazote the only reminder that you’re in the land of the Aztecs and not the Gauls.

Borreguito en Pulque

From the menu of platos fuertes a standout is borreguito en pulque con ayocotes. This is a stew of what might have been euphemistically called lamb, but is, in fact the more mature and flavorful mutton. But the meat is falling-apart tender in its brick-red sauce, made fruity and deep by the addition of fresh pulque. Little ayocotes (dumplings of corn masa) add body to this down-home dish.

Totol en mole de pistache (young turkey in a pistachio mole) is one of the more unusual offerings. The light celadon-green mole perfectly complements the delicate meat, which is nicely cradled in a huarache de maiz criollo (masa base of local corn). It works on every level.

Fish is perfectly done, not overcooked, and the 'salsa verde', reminiscent of the classic Spanish garlic/parsley sauce but here with the addition of perfumey cilantro.

Desserts are all muy mexicano and as good as they sound: titles like tarta Eréndira de chocolate de metate y chiles secos or flan de la Abuelita Celia are both tempting and sweetly descriptive.

The wine list, compiled by Margarita’s son  the sommelier – this is a family run operation –

is small but well chosen; most selections are from Baja California and prices are accessible.

The simple space, in a small ‘centro commercial’ is pleasant if non-descript: outdoor patio tables offer a more cheerful setting. The price range is $300-500 pp, depending what you drink.

Devoid of off-putting chichi snaz, Turtux offers well-chosen, carefully prepared Mexican recipes in a comfortable, casual setting. It’s a great addition to the growing roster of Good Food in Mexico City.

Turtux

Av. de la Paz 57 (inside the mall)

Col. San Angel

Tel. 5550-3632 / 5550-2753

Open Tuesday - Saturday 1:30 -11:30PM, Sunday, Monday 1-6PM

A note to my readers: See my article on the best DF street food in The Guardian

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

Ver mapa más grande

The Big Apple goes to Mexico

It's nice when your hometown recognizes and seemingly appreciates you. Especially when your place of birth happens to be full of the most competitive, cutthroat sell-your-own-grandmother-for-a-crumb-of-the-pie kind of folk. Yes, I'm referring to the Big Apple.

A native New Yorker, I spent my early years in Greenwich Village, then still a mythical place inhabited by Bohemians and Italian immigrants. Later we moved up to the Upper West Side, the world of Zabar’s, the Thalia cinema, and suffering Jewish intellectuals like Woody Allen and my father (critic Richard Gilman). My twenties wizzed by in Brooklyn. I then made the big leap over psychological and physical borders to another world, Mexico, where I’m now a citizen. I’m here to stay. I no longer have even a thumb planted in what my Russian grandparents alluded to as 'ze old country'. And I've become an authority, of sorts, on eating in my adopted hometown, Mexico City. So when New York Magazine chose to honor our sprawling metropolis with a feature spread it was with pride that two dedicated food aficionados and I named our favorite hangouts. It's because we all know how cool it is here, and we want the world to know it as well.
In addition to me dishing the fish, read the opinions of:

Market-tour queen Miss Lesley Téllez, themijachronicles.com, a transplanted Angelina with Mexican roots as deep as a Yucatecan cenote. She's come back to the homeland and wants to stay. She also spends more time in the markets than anyone I know, vendors included. So wherever she says to eat mole is where to eat it.

And Sr. Guillermo Ysusi - elpurogusto.tumblr.com - born and raised here and knows the city inside and out. A 'salaryman' by day, he's a bloguista by night. He also happens to know where best to knock a few back. They should have also asked him about cantinas...

So take a little trip to New York this week:

http://nymag.com/travel/features/mexico-city-restaurants-2012-2/

And the winner is…The best of 2011

It’s that time of year, the end of the cycle. Many new restaurants have opened in our sprawling metropolis and, try as we may it’s impossible to keep up. It’s nice to see that the wolf is not beating at the kitchen door here. So, in the spirit of complete autocracy, I offer my best list. Take it or eat it.

1. The Pedro Infante “Best Mexican” award goes to…

Fonda El Refugio – This old timer has been spiffed up, its kitchen brought up to 21st century Slow Food hipness, without sacrificing traditional flavor and recipes. Grandma would be proud.

Runner up: Coox Hanal – still the best Yucatecan food in the city if not nation.

2. The Anna Magnani “Best Foreigner” award goes, once again, to Rosetta. Chef Reygadas’ Italian kitchen just gets better and better.

Runner up: Osteria 8 – this little upstart Italian does the best pizza in town and the ambitious menu doesn’t fail to impress. Now if only we could gussy it up a little and provide a little more elbowroom.

3. The Pan Am International award goes to....
Mero Toro, the Condesa temple of consistantly creative high-falutin cooking.

Runner up: D.O. It's multi-regional Spanish and they get everything right.

4. The Eve Harrington ‘best newcomer’ award goes to…

Máximo Bistrot Local. This pretty, unpretentious place at the corner of Tonalá & Zacatecas in la Roma, does French a la Mexicana, is hip to local and organic, and is generally full of ‘buena onda’. ¡Felicidades!

Runner up: El Beso Huasteco. A pretty, restored house, nicely presented Mexican classics, low prices. What’s not to like?

5. The Jack Kerouac ‘best street stall’ award goes to…

El Caguamo. Still the best seafood stand in the city.

Runner up: El Tacetón. (corner Baja California & Tuxpan, Col. Roma)This busy stand near the Chilpancingo metro stop serves a tempting selection of tacos de guisados.

6. The Frank Sinatra ‘one for the road’ award for best watering hole goes to:

Pulquería La Pirata (Calle 13 de Septiembre, corner of 12 de Diciembre, and right below the Viaducto, Colonia Escandon). For pure Mexican ambience, it doesn’t get any better.

Runner up: Mezcaleria La Nacional Querétaro, corner of Orizaba, Colonia Roma
This fairly new addition to the growing hipster scene in ‘La Roma’ offers a large selection of reasonably priced mezcals, as well as light food.

And the jury’s out on:
Azul Condesa. We really want to love Ricardo Muñoz’ uptown venue but have been repeatedly disappointed.

Izote. I confess I had avoided Patricia Quintana’s world famous venue in recent years due to her sky-rocketing prices and inconsistent quality. But she’s given the joint a makeover and there’s a new menu so we’ll be back soon and let you know.

May my reader’s have a happy and fattening New Year.

A note to my readers: The new, expended 2012 edition of my book is now for sale on Amazon. See the bar on the right of this page to click and buy