Horses big and small

This bronze equestrian statue of Charles V of Spain was made by Manuel Tolsá between 1796 and 1803. Tolsá, a Spaniard, came to Mexico in 1790 and became professor of sculpture at the San Carlos Academy, which throughout much of Mexican history was the country's most prestigious art school. Tolsá was something of a Renaissance man, briefly in charge of Mexico City's drainage and water supply system, and the replanting of the flora of the Alameda Central.

After Independence, the statue, known as el caballito (the little horse) galloped all over: it moved to the National University, then to the intersection of Paseo de la Reforma and Avenida Juárez, and then to the plaza outside the National Museum on Calle Tacuba, where it is pictured above.

Back at Reforma and Juárez, since 1992, another statue, much larger and semi-abstractly shaped like a steed's cranium, has replaced the little horse. Formally called "The Horse's Head," it is nicknamed el caballote (the big horse). Metallic, a hundred feet tall and painted banana yellow, its author is Enrique Carbajal, aka "Sebastián," whose pieces are in museums in Mexico, Latin America, Europe, Asia and the U.S.

More sweet summertime

I love those serendipitous moments when I am walking down the street in Mexico City and come upon people selling seasonal fruit off the back of a truck. These guys are moving pints of lichees and raspberries for ten pesos -- less than a dollar -- a pint.

Availability

This is one of those "just for the record" posts. I am asked pretty frequently about the availability of my books. For those of you who find it convenient to make purchases online, you can get all of my work on Amazon. And for those of you who live in, or are passing through, México D.F., you can find both First Stop in the New World and Las llaves de la ciudad at the branch of El Péndulo in the Colonia Condesa at Avenida Nuevo León 115, at the corner of Calle Vicente Suárez. They are there thanks to the astute, charming and handsome manager, Francisco Goñi, pictured above. He is there almost every afternoon, and feel free to tell him that I sent you. If you go to buy them, and they are out of supply, Francisco can order them for you and have them in the store within days. If they are out of my books, please tell him that I gave you permission to hit him over the head with a small stick.

Believe the hype

In First Stop in the New World, in a chapter about eating in Mexico City, I wrote that the best food here is found in stalls on the sidewalk, in markets and cantinas. I still stand behind that statement, although there are exceptions. One of them is Pujol, my favorite white-tablecloth restaurant in town. The young chef, Enrique Olvera, has been written up in food magazines around the world; in my opinion, justifiably so.

For the tenth anniversary of Pujol, Olvera has published a book which includes 100 recipes and various essays, including one by yours truly. For information about how to obtain it, click onto his website and call the restaurant.

The chef tends to dissect and deconstruct time-honored Mexican dishes. For instance, his version of mole de olla -- a traditional soup with meat and vegetables -- is served dry on a plate, its ingredients grilled, sauteed and separated from each other. Squash flowers, instead of being stuffed inside a quesadilla, are served hot and liquefied in a glass, topped with a creamy foam and cinnamon, as "capuccino."

His robalito al pastor is a fancy version of a taco you can find on nearly any street corner for five pesos. The Pujol version is, of course, considerably more expensive. Olvera uses sea bass instead of pork, cured with chile, orange juice, garlic and annato, embellished with a pineapple flavored buerre blanc, and cilantro, chile and lemon ground together in a molcajete.

If you have the money to blow on one expensive meal while you are in Mexico City, this is the place to go. It's at calle Francisco Petrarca, 254, in Polanco.

In the photo above, a bodyguard whose charge is dining inside the restaurant is reticent before the camera.