| Rethink Mexican Cuisine |
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Mexico City’s hungry young chefs deconstruct classic south-of-the-border cuisine
Enrique Olvera likes to play with his food. The chef at the restaurant Pujol, in Mexico City, isn’t satisfied to give his diners impeccable renderings of traditional dishes. Instead, he dissects and deconstructs them, and puts them under a metaphorical microscope.
Take one of his signature dishes, robalito al pastor, a variation of a taco you can buy for about 50 cents on almost any Mexico City street corner. The sidewalk version contains marinated pork garnished with cilantro, onion, and pineapple. In Olvera’s adaptation—which costs about 40 times as much—the principal ingredient is sea bass, which the chef rubs with serrano chiles, orange juice, garlic, and achiote and serves with a paste of green chile, lemon, and cilantro and a splash of pineapple beurre blanc. Pujol is one of several restaurants on the leading edge of a culinary revolution in Mexico City. In little more than ten years, the dining panorama here has turned 180 degrees. In the early 1990s, after various peso devaluations, there wasn’t a lot of discretionary income, and the few who possessed it tended to have extremely conservative tastes. So it was difficult to find a Mexican restaurant that served a dish any differently from the way it had been prepared in the days of Pancho Villa. And most establishments were closed tighter than a clamshell by 10 P.M.
In the last decade, however, Mexico’s has become the largest economy in Latin America. As a result, a new generation of chefs, restaurateurs, and diners—people who have traveled and been inspired by eating in the world’s culinary capitals—is fostering a more dynamic scene, particularly in the city’s most fashionable neighborhoods (Colonia Polanco, Condesa, Las Lomas, Santa Fe, and Colonia Roma).
Pujol is an elegant, nearly unadorned space with only 18 tables. The tasting menu—seven dishes with five accompanying wines—is a bargain at about $80. “I want fine dining without ‘fine dining,’” says Olvera, a 31-year-old native of Mexico City who studied at the Culinary Institute of America, in Hyde Park, New York. “There’s no Picasso on the wall, the waiters don’t wear gloves, and no one addresses you as caballero. I want to create an unforgettable gastronomic experience, an honorable representation of Mexico.” Olvera isn’t alone. At Izote, a restaurant in the same Polanco neighborhood as Pujol, Patricia Quintana, whom Olvera names as an influence, also serves inventive Mexican fare. “Izote is based on Mexican cookery,” says Quintana, the author of more than a dozen authoritative Mexican cookbooks. “When we opened, there were new restaurants with different proposals—a lot of sushi bars, for instance. But few were Mexican.” As a point of pride, Quintana’s menu includes 60 indigenous ingredients, though she combines them in unexpected ways. But, she says, “the style always preserves the essence of Mexico.” Among Izote’s standout dishes is a ceviche of scallops marinated in soy sauce, oranges, chile oil, and scallions. Red snapper is served in a saffron sauce on a bed of huitlacoche (a wild corn fungus known in Mexico as the Aztec truffle). Lamb is lightly fried in ancho and morita chiles, onion, garlic, pepper, and cumin—then wrapped in both maguey and banana leaves and steamed in a pressure cooker. Izote is often mentioned in the same breath as Águila y Sol, a fashionable, airy space where chef Martha Ortiz, also using native ingredients, updates Mexican cuisine with international techniques. The clientele here includes businessmen and politicians in black suits, the art-house crowd in trendy glasses and loud shirts, and well-to-do couples. Among the most popular dishes on Águila y Sol’s menu is sliced duck served in a black mole sauce that is mild enough not to overpower the flavor of the bird. For those who favor fish, Contramar is a contemporary version of the traditional Mexican marisquería, or seafood joint. Despite the abundance of tuna on Mexico’s Pacific coast, when Contramar opened its light and uncluttered dining room in 1998, the best of Mexico’s catch was sold in bulk to Japan, and it was extremely difficult to buy quality tuna in the local markets. But since Contramar began serving it seared with a peppercorn crust or raw in tostadas with chipotle mayonnaise—tuna has become a standard in trendy restaurants here. With so much great cuisine, it irks Enrique Olvera that no establishment in Mexico has ever made Restaurant magazine’s annual list of the 50 best restaurants in the world. But he believes it’s just a matter of time. “I think Mexico City is waking up, and nothing is going to stop it,” Olvera explains. “The economy has improved, there’s money here, and there’s also tourism. You can still eat well for four dollars, but these days there are also some truly outstanding restaurants.” Want to plan your own trip? click here to plan trips to Mexico Comments (0)
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Enrique Olvera likes to play with his food. The chef at the restaurant Pujol, in Mexico City, isn’t satisfied to give his diners impeccable renderings of traditional dishes. Instead, he dissects and deconstructs them, and puts them under a metaphorical microscope.

