How to Eat Strategically in Mexico City

Our assistant food editor is in Mexico City for a symposium, and trying to enjoy the panoply of tastes without busting her gut. Here's her strategy

By Alison Roman

May 21, 2013

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Yesterday, Mesamerica kicked off its second annual food symposium, and I was there as a representative of Bon Appetit. The symposium is three full days of lectures, demos, and talks from some of the greatest culinary minds in the world, and it happens to be in Mexico City, one of the greatest eating cities in the world. In other words, this was a symposium I had to strategize through, or end up incapacitated by my bulging stomach. Here's how I got through Day One:

* Say no to tacos. It was painfully hard to not stop at every vendor slinging fried gorditas, huaraches, and tacos, but knowing that a long road of street food and mezcal lay before me, I opted out. And I discovered a new level of willpower.

* Hit the juice bar instead. I found a cart selling curativos, or healing concoctions, each designed to cure or prevent a specific ailment. At around 8 pesos (75 cents) each and full of fresh pineapple, cactus, celery, and parsley, I considered a glassful the wisest and cheapest investment in my future yet.

* Say yes to samples. Inside, booths with farmers, cheese makers, architects-turned-chocolatiers, and mezcal distillers lined the walls. As it was our civic duty, we sampled crickets con sal y limon, drank local coconut water, ogled freshly butchered frogs, and sampled local micro vegetables.

* Listen to the big guys. To say the spirit of slow food is alive and well in Mexico City would be an understatement. New York heroes
Frank Falcinelli and
Frank Castronovo, global Peruvian restaurateur
Gaston Acurio, and Italian culinary god
Massimo Bottura gave talks on everything from community responsibility for feeding people to preserving heritage and history in your food. (Fortunately, I was provided with headphones with direct translation so I never missed a beat. Think farm-to-table United Nations.)

* Don't sleep. After a luxuriously long seafood lunch at the esteemed Contramar and a quick disco nap, I set out on the town with my trusty guide (and friend), Nils Bernstein. Not knowing my way around, I let him take the lead. This resulted in a night of crunchy sopes de pollo, tostadas piled with pickled pig feet, spicy micheladas, too much mezcal at an after-hours event featuring a few of the presenters, and an after-after-hours taco run. Not that I'm complaining. After all, those juice carts aren't going anywhere.

Day two, we're ready.

Microgreens, Mexico City-style