Mexico City, Mexico
Many a Friday and Saturday evening when I lay my head down to rest, I think about barbacoa. I imagine it slow-cooking in the ground somewhere just beyond the city’s limits, sizzling and boiling in its own juices, the tenderest lamb or goat bound up in agave leaves, seasoned just right with a secret family adobo, enveloped in heat.
It won’t be long now, I think, before drifting off to sleep.
Most weekend mornings (barbacoa is traditionally only served on weekends) you can find me at my local barbacoa joint shoving generous portions of succulent maciza (a lean boneless cut of meat) and costilla (rib) tacos into my mouth — corn tortillas, fresh lime, onions, cilantro, and a drizzle of spicy deep-red guajillo pepper salsa on top.
I start with two tacos and a bowl of consomé, a spicy broth made from meat drippings sometimes accompanied with chickpeas. I like to dip my tacos in the broth from time to time, or pour a spoonful of it over the meat. To top it off, I’ll have a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, maybe a café de olla or a Michelada if I’m feeling indulgent.
That’s my idea of a Sunday morning in Mexico City. Me, my wife, and my chihuahua Chia kicking back and digging in. Maybe a little jog or some basketball at the park beforehand to work off the calories. Maybe not. This tenderest of meat and tastiest of broth never killed anyone — and if it has, I’ll take my chances.
I didn’t always feel the way I do now about barbacoa. When I first came to Mexico City almost a decade ago, the meat was unusual. I never ate much goat or lamb growing up, and it tasted gamey at first. But with time, I learned not just to enjoy barbacoa, but to truly love it. In fact, I couldn’t imagine living in a place where there isn’t a thriving barbacoa scene. I’m not Mexican, but there is something about eating barbacoa that makes me feel “at home.”
Barbacoa, like much of Mexican culture, is a fusion of indigenous and Spanish traditions. For thousands of years, the Aztecs, Mayans, and other indigenous groups cooked wild game in underground pits (hoyos) about three to four feet deep and lined with hot stones or embers. Maguey or banana leaves were wrapped around the meat to trap moisture and infuse it with flavor as it cooked slow and steady for six to twelve hours. When the Spanish came to Mexico in the 16th century, they introduced goat and lamb — which is usually what is served here in Mexico City.
Here are a few tips for eating barbacoa in Mexico City:
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When?: I enjoy barbacoa as a late breakfast or early lunch. Sometime between 10 a.m. and 1 p.m. on Saturday or Sunday morning.
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Where?: Supposedly some of the best barbacoa is in the state of Mexico where they have more space to cook it traditionally. I’ve also heard Hidalgo is known for its barbacoa — but I haven’t made the trip yet. For me, the “best” barbacoa is in my neighborhood, just around the corner. Part of the appeal is the casual nature of the experience. To walk out of the house in sweatpants or shorts and a few minutes later be munching on a meal prepared to perfection. To sit outside under the soft Mexican City sun and watch the Jacarandas bloom while your belly fills.
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Must try: Soft barbacoa tacos (or the assumed taco in Mexico) and consomé. I prefer mestiza (the leanest meat), and costilla, which has a bit more fat on it. But you can also try espaldilla (shoulder), pierna (leg) and even cabeza (head).
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Should try: Tacos dorados. Hard tacos stuffed with whatever cut of meat you like, usually covered in fresh lettuce and grated cheese
Barbacoa isn’t for everyone. My wife isn’t as fond of it as my dog Chia and I. But if it’s your thing, then Mexico City is a barbacoa haven. From local markets to family-owned stalls, little pop-ups on the corner to well-known puestos with plastic chairs, Mexico City knows how to serve fire barbacoa — and I’m grateful for every bite.
For Mexico City travelers: I’ve got a new barbacoa spot now that I’m not gonna tell you about. But my old joint was on La Calle Regina in between 5 de Febrero y Isabella. I don’t know the name, but if you see a barbacoa sign and a bunch of people sitting outside eating and drinking Micheladas, you’ve found the spot. The tacos dorados are especially tasty.
Thank you for reading. I’m an independent author based in Mexico City. My first book “The Renaissance Man Project: The Search for Meaning Through Martial Arts, Poetry, Music, Dance, Art & Philosophy” is now available.