After finalizing our trip to Mexico City in mid-November, one of the first things I did was to see if I could get a reservation at Pujol. I checked OpenTable every day for 2 weeks until I finally scored a table for 2:00 P.M. in their dining room. Whew!
Pujol is located in a residential area of Polanco, the city’s up-scale neighborhood. If it wasn’t for the name of the restaurant located discretely off to the side, I would have thought we were entering someone’s home. The interior is warm wood and concrete, with muted lighting. Very modern.
We sat in a cozy section off from the bar and next to the kitchen so our meal was often punctuated by the Spanish equivalent of “yes, Chef.” Our server brought out the tasting menu—folded up and sealed with stamped clay—and invited me to open it. It felt like a test: would I tear the menu by mistake?
The first course consisted of two snacks: a mini shrimp roll and roasted baby corn topped with crunchy bugs. Good, but not exceptional.
This was followed by sea snail ceviche in a broth of palm juice and parsnip surrounded by corn and peas and topped with pea flowers. The snail wasn’t overly chewy and the flavors, when mixed together, were well-balanced and not too acidic.
Our third course was a tlayuda—not something I’d had before, but struck me as being similar to a tostada. It was topped with green mole, pressed octopus chicharrón and kale, and then finished with grated parmesan and roe. The combination of all the ingredients was really tasty although a bit messy to eat (fingers only, no silverware provided).
We then had the amberjack. It was drizzled with the chef’s interpretation of chilpachole, a traditional seafood stew from Veracruz, and accompanied by chard served over a kohlrabi guacachile (salsa).
The next dish was easily my favorite – a pumpkin tamal on a salsa macha made from hazelnuts and garnished with mizuna leaves. I loved the contrasts presented by this course—the sweetness of the pumpkin against the mild heat of the chiles, the creaminess of the tamal against the crunchy nuts.
The sixth course was perhaps their most iconic: the mole madre. Similar to sourdough, the mole madre is continuously fed with new ingredients. At the time we had ours, it was already going on 2991 days or more than 8 years. It’s served together with mole freshly made that day. The mole madre is dark, with an intensely smoky flavor, while the new mole is orange in color and sweeter. Tortillas pressed with the hoja santa leaf are used to scoop up and savor the moles. I love mole so really enjoyed this exceptional dish.
Last but not least was dessert, a lemon verbena custard topped with raspberries and swirls of frozen yogurt. They also brought out bite-sized conchas (a traditional Mexican sweet bread roll) filled with cream. Both were a nice way to end the meal.
Overall, we enjoyed our meal. Could we have eaten similar things for cheaper elsewhere? Probably. But for (one of) us, the pleasure of fine-dining is the experience. From the inventiveness of the food—elevated local ingredients – to the ambience, to the service, it was the type of sensory experience (2.5 hours long) we occasionally like to enjoy that takes us away from the everyday.