It’s a cold December afternoon when we arrive at the headquarters of Tamales de Tia Tila in San Gabriel Etla, about 45 minutes outside of Oaxaca City. Knocking on the door, we catch a whiff of spices and corn that the cold wind quickly steals away. But as soon the door swings open, revealing a family with faces half-covered in masks and hands busy at work, waves of warm, fragrant air envelope us. The tamal workshop is brimming: a man is moving stews, a woman pressing dough, an older woman laying corn husks and banana leaves on one of the many tables. Everyone’s movements are so precise and focused that we feel guilty for intruding. But that feeling fades away when a young girl waves us in and brings over a cup of hot coffee.

In a town that runs on tacos, tacos de guisado may be the most ubiquitous version of the iconic dish in Mexico City. They can be found almost anywhere in the city, from specialty restaurants to markets, tianguis and street vendors selling them at stalls or even out of the trunk of a car. It may be an obvious point, but what distinguishes some tacos de guisado from others is how well prepared the guisados (home-style cooked meats or vegetables typically displayed and kept warm in earthenware dishes called cazuelas) are – and sometimes those coming out of the back of a car top ones from more “established” places. With so many places to choose from, how to determine who makes the best tacos de guisado in town? One contender we had long heard about is Beatricita, a brick-and-mortar taquería in the Zona Rosa that has quietly been using the same recipes to great acclaim for almost 110 years – certainly strong evidence that its guisados could be some of the best in the city.

“People say, when are you going to expand? when are you going to change locations?... never.” Chef Selene Montero sits at one of the eight tables that comprise her restaurant Malportaco – a play on the word malportado, or “badly behaved” in Spanish. Multicolored ribbons hang from strings attached to the wooden rooftop that covers the sidewalk diners. Around us waiters weave among regulars, handing out Barrilito beers, aguas frescas and Mexico City’s best vegan tacos. “My goal is for people to taste something here they can’t anywhere else, not because we are particularly badass, but because I have studied a lot about how to get to this point,” says Chef Selene, who started out post-college with a marketing degree that she says made her father happy but no one else, including her.

Tucked against the back wall of the Expendio de Maiz kitchen are three massive metal pots. Containing cloudy mixtures of corn kernels and limestone water, they seem to sit unattended, when in fact intermittent yet constant attention is being paid to their progress. What is happening is one of the most ancient and important processes birthed by Mesoamerica: nixtamalización. For a people whose main staple was corn, the discovery of nixtamalization was just as important as the domestication of corn itself. This process of mixing corn kernels in an alkaline solution not only loosens the husks of the corn kernels, making them easier to grind, but also provides all kinds of additional nutritional value.

For many people during the pandemic, the need to have a restaurant experience was supplemented by picking up food to go. Knowing that potential customers were on the lookout for something special during this time, Victor Villa of Villa’s Tacos in Highland Park, a historic Mexican enclave in Los Angeles, supplied not only the perfect dish, but also a unique ordering system that allowed Villa’s to continue serving the community. Every Tuesday at noon, customers test their luck as they try to send in their order via direct message on the Villa’s Tacos Instagram page, hoping to be one of the 350 or so lucky few who make the cut before the tacos sell out.

The year is almost gone and, though many expected it to be free from the waves of chaos and change that the Coronavirus brought us in 2020, 2021 has proved to be just as challenging. But, at the same time, it has been more interesting than ever. It’s been a year of transition, with everyone trying to make the best of their circumstances and transform challenges into solutions. When it comes to eating out, this was also a year where we oscillated between feeling connected to community again, the thrill of finding new culinary projects and going back to the places and flavors that have always been comforting and safe.

Our first encounter with the chaulafan from Leticias, an Ecuadorian restaurant in Corona, was at the 2021 season opener of the nearby Queens Night Market. As it cooked outdoors – in a wok over high heat, a testament to the dish's origins among Chinese immigrant workers – the fried rice was a dramatic sight. Our second encounter was outdoors, too, at sidewalk table, although the wok was confined to the kitchen. We didn't watch the fried rice as it cooked, but the presentation told the same story of culinary connection: Our chaulafan was served in a deep bowl that mimicked a Chinese takeout container.

As the nearby church bells toll the noon hour, customers start to congregate around the Pachamama Sud food truck. Two men sip Argentinian beers at the counter, munching on chips and guacamole offered by the owner, Nanou. Another customer bellies up to the colorful truck, only to look confused by the menu. Nanou explains the difference between a taco and a tortilla, handing him a taste of her famous sweet potato fries as an amuse-bouche. Pachamama Sud is turning the city, one Marseillais at a time, onto the flavors of Latin America, a foreign land for so many in spite of Marseille’s rich multiculturalism. From Argentinian empanadas to Peruvian manioc balls and Mexican smoked chicken tacos, the menu invites customers to “travel with their taste buds,” explains Nanou. “With no passport required.”

With its neo-industrial decor, Tizne looks like a lot of new Mexico City restaurants and shops riding the “rough hewn” interiors wave. Metal chairs, uncovered cement walls and digital art work give the place the feeling of a warehouse or underground club, albeit one that happens to have amazing tacos. Tizne’s full name, Tizne Tacomotora (“the taco motor”), explains some of the machinery references in their decor. Partners Pilar Canseco and Jorge Vaca started their business with a bike cart outfitted with a meat smoker that they would cart around from music festival to music festival, selling three of what would become their limited (and heavenly) menu of smoked-meat tacos.

Immerse yourself on this multi-day trip in the complex cultural identity of Mexico City, where pre-Hispanic, colonial, and contemporary influences collide.

“Eat your greens,” they said. “Why not juice them?” Mexico asked. Since time immemorial, or at least for as long as I can remember, natural fruit and vegetable juices have been a thing in Mexico, long before juice bars became trendy in the rest of the world. The juguería (juice bar) is an essential part of the “stallscape” in every Mexican market. However, this tradition can trace its roots to Mexican households, where fresh juice and fruit-infused water have long been enjoyed during breakfast or lunch – and still are, although carbonated drinks are increasingly replacing them. Luckily, the juguerías continue to serve up dozens of juices with different flavors and purposes, from helping with a hangover effects to activating blood circulation and everything in between.

Right after our Mexico City Trip, immerse yourself on this add-on trip in the complex cultural identity of Oaxaca, where pre-Hispanic, colonial, and contemporary influences collide.

Once the stomping ground of sailors and the Corsican mafia, Marseille’s oldest district, Le Panier, has evolved into a tourist hub and creative neighborhood. Its winding streets are peppered with ateliers (like blade smiths, chocolatiers and painters) and the 17th-century facades are canvases for colorful murals. One of them, a powerful black-and-white image of a couple kissing, faces the funky cantine and concept store, Ahwash. Its owner, Amar, commissioned the Alberto Ruce work – a sign of the artistic energy infused throughout his unique place. Named for the traditional Berber dance in which men and women mix together, Ahwash is a blend of Amar’s worlds – of Morocco and France, of art and cooking. “Eating here is like coming to my house,” he smiles, serving tagines to patrons sitting at vintage tables topped with glowing candles, their dripping wax embodying the restaurant’s romantic and relaxed ambiance.

When Tomás Gonzalez brought his family to New York City from Acapulco in 1985, they settled first in the South Bronx. His new home had little in common with his old home, a port city and the tourist heart of Mexico’s Guerrero State on the Pacific Coast. But one constant remained: his desire to cook. Sr. Gonzalez spent much of his life in and around the restaurant his family ran in Acapulco, a faraway paradise that most people in the States knew only from prize holiday packages on The Price is Right. He first tried selling churros on the Grand Concourse in the Bronx, but quickly realized that there were not enough Mexicans to buy them.

A commuter hub right on the Bosphorus, Beşiktaş courses with energy. In addition to the masses streaming on and off the ferries and the cars inching up and down the steep thoroughfare of Barbaros Boulevard, the neighborhood is overrun with students – Bahçeşehir University sits a few steps from the main ferry terminal. Of the many restaurants and coffee shops catering to the large student population, Yalla Falafel, a tiny corner spot, offers something different: vegetarian fare with Lebanese flavors. Judging by the many students who buzz in and out, this lighter food is preferred after a long day of studying and classes.