The Best Restaurants in Mexico City I Keep Dreaming About

I spent two weeks eating my way through Mexico City. I planned a little. I wandered a lot. I chased tacos at 1 a.m., and I put on a nice dress for tasting menus. Some meals made me clap. A few missed the mark. Here’s the truth, plate by plate.
For the full run-down, I put together another guide to the best restaurants in Mexico City I keep dreaming about that dives even deeper into each stop.

Tip before we start: book big-name spots a month out. Lunch is the main event here. Tipping is about 10–15%. And bring a light sweater. Patios get breezy. If you’d like insider intel straight from Mexico City locals before you go, jump into InstantChat’s Latina chat rooms to trade real-time recommendations on hidden taquerías, slang, and safety nuances with food-loving chilangas.

Want to keep this hit list handy? Save it to your travel board with AddThisMark and you’ll have every crave-worthy address a tap away.

Pujol: the fancy one I saved for

I booked Pujol for lunch. It felt calm, with soft light and quiet music. I had the tasting menu.

Baby corn came first. It was warm and smoky, with mayo made from chicatana ants. Sounds wild. Tastes bright and nutty.
The famous mole madre had two rings, old and new. One deep and dark. One fresh and light. I dragged tortilla pieces through both and grinned like a kid.
Dessert was a tiny, cold mamey sorbet. Clean finish.

Service was gentle. Water glasses never dropped low. My only gripe? Pacing ran slow between courses. I got a bit antsy by course five. Pricey, yes. But it felt special, not stiff. It also has a Michelin star now, which tracks.

Quintonil: green, bright, happy

If Pujol is poetry, Quintonil feels like a garden party. I sat near the open kitchen and watched the team move like a dance.

The crab tostada snapped clean, with green herbs and a squeeze of lime.
I tried escamoles (ant larvae). Buttered. Soft. Like a spring omelet, but silkier.
Their avocado tartare is famous for a reason. Cool. Charred edges. A little smoky kiss.

Staff smiled a lot. The room was tight though. I bumped elbows once. I’d go again for lunch, not dinner. It gets loud.

Rosetta (and Panadería Rosetta): season first, then pastry

Rosetta is a pretty house in Roma. The menu changes with the season. Mine was simple and sharp.

A salad of pear, herbs, and cheese tasted like spring rain.
A pasta dish with hoja santa butter felt lush but light.

But let me be honest: the bakery stole my heart. The guava roll? Warm, flaky, and soft in the middle. I ate one on a curb and got sugar on my jeans. No regrets. Hard to book dinner here; tables run snug. Worth it.

Contramar: long lunch, fish that sings

This is the lunch spot. Sunlight. Big groups. Servers flying, but in a good way.

Tuna tostadas with chipotle mayo and fried leeks. Crunch, spice, cool fish. I wanted three.
Pescado a la talla, half red, half green, butterflied. Order right away; it takes time. We picked the bones clean.
The fig tart was my sweet win.

Heads up: it’s busy and a bit rushed. They close early. Book early. Show up hungry.

El Cardenal: breakfast that hugs you

I went to the Centro location at 8 a.m. The room felt old-school and neat.

Hot chocolate came thick and velvety.
They brought warm conchas and fresh nata (like clotted cream). I tore off pieces and made little clouds.
Huevos divorciados had two salsas, red and green. Both bright.

There was a short wait by 9 a.m. Still smooth and steady. Great for families or anyone who loves bread.

El Vilsito: a car shop by day, al pastor by night

We rolled up after midnight. Music. Smoke. Sparks from the trompo when the taquero sliced meat.

Tacos al pastor were thin, juicy, with sweet pineapple. I added the green salsa and nearly cried. Too hot? Maybe. But perfect.
Get a gringa if you like flour tortillas and melted cheese.

It’s standing room. Grease on the shoes happens. Bring cash. Worth it.

Taquería Orinoco: bright lights, big tacos

Clean lines. Red trays. Fast moves.

Pastor on flour tortillas hits different. Soft, a little sweet, and crisp at the edges.
I liked the chicharrón de queso—thin and crackly.
Salsas run hot; taste first.

There’s a line, and prices are higher than a street stand. But it’s a fun, tidy taco fix.

Los Cocuyos: tiny stand, big flavor

In Centro, this spot is a hole in the wall. Smoke. Steam. A metal pan full of bubbling fat.

Suadero is the move—soft, rich, a little sticky in the best way.
Campechano (mix of meats) made me grin.

You eat on the sidewalk, leaning on a ledge. It’s messy. It’s great. The smell of offal might scare some folks, but the flavor won me over.

This place feels like a friend’s kitchen. You sit, and food starts coming.

A blue tortilla with beans and squash blossoms tasted like summer fields.
A little quesadilla with huitlacoche had earthy, mushroom vibes.

You say stop when you’re full. The check feels fair for what you ate. Long wait at peak times, and picky eaters may fuss. But if you love corn, it’s a hug.

Nicos: old-school charm on the edge of town

It’s a ride to Azcapotzalco, but worth it if you like classics.

Tableside guac stirred with care.
Sopa seca de natas, an old recipe, came creamy and rich, with a toasted top.
A chile relleno that tasted like Sunday lunch at grandma’s.

Service was warm, not flashy. Book by phone. I liked the calm.

Mi Compa Chava: loud, sunny, seafood party

Sinaloa-style plates, big music, lots of lime.

Aguachile negro stole the show. Cold, spicy, dark sauce, shrimp snapping fresh.
I had a marlin tostada with mayo and chipotle. Smoky. Salty. Gone in four bites.

There’s a wait most days. It’s rowdy. I loved it. Got a crew celebrating something big? I road-tested a handful of spots in the best bachelor party destinations—my real takes if you need ideas beyond tacos and mezcal.
While we’re on that festive note, if your food-fueled adventures ever take you up to England and you’re curious about the racier side of nightlife in Manchester, check out the Erotic Monkey Manchester guide—it lays out reviews, etiquette tips, and venue intel so you can skip the guesswork and dive straight into the fun.

El Califa de León: one taco, one star

Tiny stand. One cook. One knife. People line up with serious faces.

The gaonera taco is very thin steak on a soft tortilla. A sprinkle of salt and maybe a swipe of fat. That’s it.
Simple, hot, clean flavor. I ate two and felt proud.

It’s not cheap for a taco. But it’s a story to tell, and the bite is pure.

Quick sweets and coffee I’d chase again

Panadería Rosetta: the guava roll, yes again.
Café Nin: concha with nata and a flat white; easy morning.
Churrería El Moro: churros and thick chocolate; late-night fix.

Little tips I wish someone told me

Book big names for lunch; the room feels nicer and less loud.
If it rains (summer storms), streets flood fast. Grab indoor tables.
For taquerias, bring small bills. Some take cards, some don’t.
Ask for water “con gas” (bubbly) or “sin gas” (still).
Coming in fall? Try pan de muerto. Rosetta’s version is soft and bright with orange. And if November is on your radar, you can scroll through my favorite places to travel in November (from trips I actually took) for more chilly-season inspiration.

What I’d repeat and what I’d skip

I’d repeat Pujol for the mole and that calm, careful service. Contramar for the fish and the buzz. Rosetta’s bakery for