Mexico City: Part I
In high school I began thinking about what my adult life could look like. I knew I wanted to live in a big city, but I also ached to speak Spanish. A well-intentioned Spanish teacher once told me that all I needed was to live in a Spanish speaking country for six weeks to become bilingual. Seemed easy enough. Six weeks was no time at all. So I did what every other teen would do: I started reading a young adult novel set in Mexico City called “Mexican High.” The book was about Mila, an American girl whose mother was a diplomat and whose father was a Mexican mystery. Her mother’s work took her all over the world, and she came along for the ride. Mila went to an international school with the wealthy and privileged children of other international diplomats. She was exposed to all the fun that is being a teenager with a group of well-financed children in a city that loves to party.
Several years ago I traveled to Mexico City with a good friend and longtime travel buddy. We hit all the hot spots I had drooled over for a decade. We did Teotihuacan, Frida Kahlo’s house, the Diego Rivera Museum, Xochimilco, and all the street tacos, tlacoyos, and conchas a girl could stomach. All these years later, I have the opportunity to return, before I make my way to Malinalco for my friend’s wedding. AKA I prioritized work deadlines and lab applications over booking travel, and by the time I went to reserve the same flight as the group, the tickets were near $1,000 for coach. Pass. I decided to travel ahead, spend the night, and get about 24 hours of Mexico City back in my bones.
Upon landing, I checked into my hotel, dropped my bags, and caught a car to my favorite pozole spot- La Casa de Toño. They have the most flavorful chicken and pork pozole topped with cabbage, onions, and radishes. The bowl is served with homemade tostones and wedges of lime. The restaurant has five Toño branded hot sauces: Habanero, Guacamole, Verde, Roja, and “de la Casa.” I picked verde, obvioooo. When I posted the photo of this magical concoction on Instagram, I captioned it, “1st stop: pozole!” Straightforward enough. A 55 year-old lady who lives in Connecticut DM’d me asking, “pozole????” “It’s the soup,” I said. Instantly, the writing bubbles appeared. She was typing. Perhaps to apologize for not googling it herself. She responded, “...like tortilla soup?”
