Edson Diaz Fuentes - Ciudad de Mexico: Recipes and Stories from the Heart of Mexico City

Growing up in rural France, in my small town of Tarbes, we ate the rustic dishes of Gascony. That was all we knew. So I cant claim a lifelong love of Mexican food. I was barely aware of the regional diversity of cooking even in France. It was only when I trained to be a chef, working in kitchens around the country, that I came fully to appreciate that the tastiest food often reflects the produce and traditions of a region.

A grandmother with no formal training can often produce dishes with more flavour than those of a classically trained chef, for all his or her finesse.

It was almost twenty years ago that I finally made it to Mexico, and its fair to say my expectations were not high. Id only tried Mexican food in London and it was not good. It feels like the English want chilli with everything. (Its the same with Indian food.)

I only spent a few days in Mexico City, but Ill never forget visiting a huge food market. I was surprised by the variety of vegetables and fruit. And there were sheets of crackling hanging from the ceiling. They would cut you a piece, weigh it, and you could walk along eating beautiful tasting food. Everything looked so good, and you could see that this was a country with a strong food culture, even if it wasnt quite so well-known overseas in those days.

We ate in taquerias and roadside stalls, and in more formal restaurants, too. It was then that I started to appreciate that Mexican cooking is more complex than people sometimes imagine. Theres subtlety, and dishes are built with layers of flavour. Yes, some of those flavours are robust but, as with all good cooking, there is depth and there is balance. And there are colours, too. Its a cuisine where you can feast with your eyes.

My other fond memory is of my first visit to Santo Remedio. I love family-run restaurants, and the hospitality shown by Edson and his wife Natalie was second-to-none. There was warmth and there was joy so you felt happy even before the food arrived. When it did, it took me straight back to Mexico City.

I hope you enjoy this book as much as I do. For me, it brings back happy memories and also brings Mexico to life. While the focus is on Mexico City, it also points to the diversity of regional cuisines, so I guess I am going to have to return and do some exploring. For now, I find myself looking at recipes such as Smoky Cauliflower with Pipin Blanco; Pibil-style Pork Ribs; and Lamb Shanks, Barbacoa-style and I just want to get cooking. The recipes are accessible, even for a Frenchman.

Pierre Koffmann

I have been a serious eater, or, as you would say in Mexico, a tragn, since the age of five. One of my earliest childhood memories was on holiday in Acapulco. The once-glamorous seaside spot was made famous in the 1950s when it was frequented by Hollywood film stars like Elizabeth Taylor and Ronald Reagan. It is where Mexico Citys inhabitants would go at the weekends to escape the hustle and bustle of the city when I was a child in the early eighties.

I was at the palapa (stall) ready to enjoy breakfast, my favourite meal of the day. I was queueing where one of the cooks was preparing Mexican antojitos (corn-based snacks) on a comal (a Mexican flat-topped griddle). I stood there patiently, waiting my turn to order the black bean sopes I had decided on for breakfast. But adult after adult received their food while I was left waiting. What I hadnt realised what that the cook couldnt see me, as I was still so small. Though I didnt mind the being ignored. I was captivated.

I watched the cook roll round balls of masa (corn dough), placed them between two neatly cut plastic sheets and then press them in the tortilla press, forming perfectly round discs. She placed them carefully on the comal for just the right amount of time for them to cook, before pinching the edges to make them in to sopes. After which, they were smothered in black beans and topped with fresh cheese and cream.

Luckily, one of the other guests soon noticed me and ensured I received my sopes, and for the next few days the cook never failed to spot me again. I continued to enjoy the daily ritual, my perfect start to the day: the joy of watching and smelling fresh corn masa being cooked and popped on to my plate, and then the delight of devouring it at my table. You could say this marked the beginning of my culinary journey.

I was born and raised in Mexico City. It is chaotic, busy and always moving. Its a melting pot of flavours and food from across Mexico, one of the most biodiverse countries on this planet.

For me, as for all Mexicans, food is an integral part of life. There is no social gathering, festivity or event where food is not essential. Growing up in Mexico City, I was accustomed to regularly visiting its markets, street food stalls, fondas, cafes and, later, with my father Jos Mara, its cantinas.

What makes a cuisine so special and unique are not only the recipes, ingredients and cooking techniques, but also the stories and traditions that surround the food. And, for me, so many of my memories are steeped in the food I grew up eating.

One of my favourite memories as a child was going shopping with my mother Lucero and sister Meri to Coyoacn Market. A task that was always rewarded by early morning quesadillas from a specific puesto (stand) that my mother used to like. Communal benches in the middle of the market were surrounded by puestos, offering a wide range of options, from tacos and tostadas to seafood and freshly squeezed juices. What we know today as artisanal food markets have been the norm in Mexico for centuries. That journey to Coyoacn to buy fresh produce for family meals was always accompanied by juices, freshly baked pastries and hot chocolate from different traders. It was a great way to start any morning and an impossible trip to resist.

Outings to Mexicos historic centre with my grandmother always included a visit to Churrera el Moro, which my mother and even my grandmother would visit as a child. Opened in 1935 by Spaniards fleeing the Civil War, it was a special treat for me to visit the famous churrera, watch the churrero pipe the dough into the boiling hot oil, and then emerge, crisp and light, moments later; to be dusted in sugar. Served piping hot on melamine plates and accompanied by a hot chocolate for dipping, they were the ultimate treat. Visits here were strewn with stories of my mothers childhood visiting her fathers shops in the historic centre, which he had run for decades. Ultramarinos Canada was a shop which Abuelo Rafa ran for over thirty years. Probably it was one of the first shops in Mexico to sell the very best of Spanish produce, from olive oil to tinned sardines and turrones. After this, in 1968 he opened a sweet shop called El Rey de las Cajetas, selling hundreds of types of traditional Mexican sweets in De la Palma Street, Mexicos City Historic Centre.