Lesley Téllez

Tlacoyos are small, flat patties about the size of your hand, made from corn masa that’s been stuffed with mashed beans, requesón (a salty, spreadable cheese similar to ricotta) or fava beans, and cooked crisp on a comal. Once you leave Mexico City, tlacoyos take on other shapes and names. In some areas of Puebla, for instance, they’re called tlayoyos. For a long time, my tlacoyo dream was to find a mayora—an older, respected Mexican cook—who could teach me how to make them. In 2013, I finally was able to learn with Señora Rosa Peña Sotres, who graciously invited me into her home and spent a full Sunday teaching me patiently how to stuff and fold. “Ya aprendió!” (You’ve learned!), she declared, as I placed a small, misshapen tlacoyito on her charcoal-fired comal. Patting them out by hand isn’t easy if you’re a beginner, but you’ll get it down with practice. It’s fun to gather a group of friends and make them con calma (Spanish for “without hurry”), particularly if someone brings the ready-made masa. Don’t skimp on the garnishes. If you can’t find cactus, which Latino supermarkets generally stock, try shredded raw cabbage or carrots.

Requesón is a salty, spreadable Mexican cheese that tastes like a creamier, more acidic version of ricotta. Making it from scratch is easy: You curdle milk with vinegar or another acid such as lime juice, and then warm it and watch the curds form. Most street vendors use it as a tlacoyo filling, but you can use requesón for all sorts of things—stirred into scrambled eggs and tomatoes, smeared into a corn tortilla with salsa, or spread onto a piece of toast with honey or mixed in a dip of fresh herbs and olive oil.

Large jagged sheets of chicharrón, or pork crackling, can be found at any Mexico City market. Homemade chicharrón is wonderful with pico de gallo, any salsa, guacamole, or cooked in green sauce and served in a taco when soft.

Tacos al pastor—made from marinated pork that's been roasted on a vertical spit—are wildly popular in Mexico City, particularly at night. The best taqueros put on a show, slicing off bits of caramelized meat and catching it in one hand (or behind their back!), and then reaching above the meat to slice off a piece of warm, juicy pineapple. According to city folklore, these tacos were invented in the capital. The dish is a direct descendant of shawarma, brought by Lebanese immigrants who arrived in Mexico in the early twentieth century. The marinade in this recipe comes from Tacos Don Guero in the Cuauhtémoc neighborhood, whose taqueros were kind enough to explain their ingredients to me at six a.m. one weekday morning. Obviously very few people at home will have a vertical spit—part of what gives tacos al pastor its signature flavor—but a grill would work well, or a blazing-hot cast iron skillet or griddle greased with a little lard.

Typical Mexican enchiladas arrive rolled up and stuffed, but at my favorite enchilada street stand—the inspiration for this recipe—they're stacked in a messy, luxurious pile, with separate individual layers of corn tortillas, fresh cilantro and onion, green enchilada sauce, shredded cheese and chicken. The whole thing is topped with a blanket of crema and more cheese. It's almost like a deconstructed lasagna. The dish is enough to make you fall deeply in love with Mexico City—particularly when the corn tortillas are homemade, and the green sauce is prepared with a slow-simmering pot of fresh chicken stock.