Moles, a Museum, and a Plan That Worked

 

Entrance to Amparo Museum

Architectural Models from the Show

Example of Timelines used in Exhibits

Relaxing after a Massage (kind of redundant)

Chicken Mole

Pork Mole

Dinner at Augurio

Last night’s dinner was the start of our re-evaluation of Puebla; today’s visit to the Amparo Museum confirmed that we had made the most of our time there.

We were looking for something that would make Puebla feel worthwhile, and after reading about the Amparo Museum, it felt like the right choice. From the street it looks entirely historic, but inside it’s been thoughtfully updated and easy to navigate. We wandered through the anthropology galleries at our own pace, and Cliff spent extra time with a temporary exhibition on Mexican architecture. The pre-Hispanic pieces come from an older private collection assembled long before today’s cultural-heritage laws, and the museum felt approachable and informative without being overwhelming. It was well worth the visit.

Back at the hotel, we moved on to the second part of our plan—a 90-minute massage—which turned out to be genuinely relaxing. Afterward we spent some quiet time by the rooftop pool, then returned to our room for a glass of wine before heading out to dinner.

Dinner was at Augurio, a neighborhood Puebla restaurant that felt refreshingly local. We started with tacos, a margarita for Cliff, and wine for Cathy. As expected, moles were the focus. We ordered a pork mole and a chicken mole, each quite different and both excellent. Neither was spicy, just rich and satisfying, and they gave us a better appreciation for why Puebla takes its moles so seriously.

After dinner we returned to the hotel for a final drink, packed up, and got ready for our return to Los Angeles tomorrow—glad we’d experienced Puebla, and equally glad to be heading home to our cats.

Altitude, Attitude, and a Really Good Mole

 

Our Suite at the Banyan Tree

Unhelpful Tile and Pottery Store

Typical Puebla Colonial Street

Look Closely - Volcano Overlooking Puebla

Salmon with Poblano Mole

Chicken with Green Mole

Our driver picked us up for the two-and-a-half-hour drive to Puebla. We left Mexico City with mixed emotions. We are completely at home there; Puebla, by contrast, was a blank slate. Friends had recommended it enthusiastically, and we knew it was famous for its food—especially its moles—as well as its tiles and pottery. Beyond that, we were trusting the process.

What we hadn’t fully appreciated was the geography. Mexico City sits at roughly 7,000 feet, tucked into a high valley surrounded by volcanic mountains. To leave the valley, you have to climb. The road to Puebla is excellent but relentless, ascending to over 9,000 feet. We both felt it at the top. Then came the descent into the Puebla Valley, itself ringed by dramatic volcanoes—mercifully dormant. Along the way we passed an enormous Volkswagen plant and other heavy industry, a reminder that Puebla is not just colonial charm but a major Mexican industrial powerhouse.

The historic center of Puebla is laid out in a tidy colonial grid of two- and three-story buildings connected by cobbled streets. After checking into the Banyan Tree—reputedly the best hotel in town—and having a light snack, we took in our accommodations. We had rented a large suite, imagining family members joining us, spreading out, relaxing, gathering between meals. Alas, the suite turned out to be for just the two of us. On the plus side, there was plenty of room to sulk in comfort.

We headed out to explore the colonial center, and here’s where expectations met reality. To us, it was a letdown. The area felt overrun with tourists and packed with junky souvenir shops. In front of the cathedral were mimes and street performers, giving the whole scene an unfortunate Hollywood Boulevard vibe. We kept waiting for the charm to reveal itself. It did not.

Puebla is famous for both its tiles and its pottery, so we dutifully visited a well-known tile and pottery store. The craftsmanship was undeniable. The customer service was not. The sales staff was largely absent, and when they did appear, they were distinctly uninterested in us. We left empty-handed, again congratulating ourselves on the money saved.

Back at the hotel we regrouped and devised a recovery plan. Step one: drinks at the rooftop bar, which overlooks both the city and the volcano—an immediate improvement. Step two: book a 90-minute massage for the following day. Step three: identify at least one cultural outing that looked promising. A museum exhibition made the cut. Morale began to rise.
Then came dinner. We had originally booked a table at El Mural de los Poblanos, but the hotel staff suggested Casa Barroca instead. A very good suggestion.

What a find. We ordered two different moles, and both were exceptional. Surprisingly, neither was spicy; instead they were deep, rich, and complex—the kind of food that demands your full attention. Portions were enormous, far beyond our ability to finish. We shared a bottle of wine, lingered happily, and felt the entire day redeem itself, bite by bite.

The total bill came to $112.

Just like that, Puebla found its footing. Sometimes all it takes is a large empty suite, a rooftop cocktail, and a really good mole.

Mexico City: A Series of Cancellations

Carla Fernandez Purses

Street Vendors (Oh! the smells)

Lobster Taco at Raiz

We went to Mexico City imagining a full table. The plan was to see Cathy’s brother Michael and his wife Tamara, with cousins Steve and Carol joining us. Reservations were made for six at our favorite restaurants—the kind of advance planning that assumes the universe is cooperative.

It is not.

At the last minute, Steve and Carol were stopped cold by Tule fog in California’s Central Valley. The fog won. LAX was unreachable. Mexico City and Puebla were off the table. We missed them, though not as much as they missed the margaritas.

Michael and Tamara were the reason for the trip, and we did get to see them for dinner our first night. Unfortunately, both were under the weather and made the very sensible decision to bow out of the rest of the adventure. Disappointing, yes—but also proof that wisdom sometimes arrives disguised as a canceled plan.

Meanwhile, by sheer coincidence, Shumon and his sister Sayeeda were also in Mexico City. They were eager to join us for dinner, especially because Sayeeda, a college professor of French, was excited to meet Tamara, who is also a college professor of French. This was shaping up to be a linguistic summit.

Then came a political demonstration. Streets closed. Traffic froze. The summit was postponed indefinitely.

And just like that, our party of six became… the two of us.

With no one left to coordinate with or wait for, Cathy and I did what any sensible people would do: we went shopping. We wandered through Juárez, a neighborhood packed with interesting shops, restaurants, and the kind of street life that makes you feel like you’re in the middle of something even when you have no idea what that something is.

On a previous trip we had visited the home and studio of Carla Fernandez, the brilliant Mexican fashion designer, and Juárez delivered again. Cathy found an exceptional purse and a Japanese-inspired coat—both excellent purchases, and both clearly necessary under international shopping law.

We returned to Casa Polanco for massages and drinks, which felt less like indulgence and more like recovery from our ambitious social calendar of exactly zero additional people.

Dinner that night was… fine. After the excellence of Malix the night before, Raíz never really had a chance. Expectations can be cruel. Still, one underwhelming meal does not ruin a trip—it just clarifies where not to go next time.

What truly stayed with me was walking through Juárez itself. Street vendors were everywhere, grilling foods that smelled so good they should be illegal. Smoke drifted through the streets, heavy with spice and promise. I admired them deeply, from a respectful distance, while continuing my lifelong policy of not actually eating street food.

Plans unraveled. People were missed. Reservations were wasted. And yet Mexico City, as always, delivered exactly what it wanted to—a reminder that sometimes the best trips are the ones that ignore your spreadsheet entirely.

From Aztec Power to Modern Art: A Day of Delights in Mexico City!

 

Breakfast Chilaquilas

Guide at Templo Mayor

Thinking of Guillermo

Our Room at Casa Polanco

What better way to kick off a day in Mexico City than with a true breakfast of champions? I started my morning with a hearty plate of Chilaquiles, the quintessential Mexican morning meal. Cathy, ever the adventurous eater, went for something a bit more unusual but equally delicious: a sweet Chia Pudding! It was a delightful surprise for the taste buds.

With our appetites satisfied, we decided to dedicate the day to soaking in some culture, starting with a journey back in time at the Templo Mayor. Located right in the heart of the city, this archaeological site is a powerful reminder of Mexico's rich history. We learned that the Templo Mayor was the religious and political "center of the universe" for the Aztec Empire's capital, Tenochtitlan. This massive, dual-shrine pyramid honored Huitzilopochtli, the god of war, and Tlaloc, the god of rain, symbolizing the vital balance between conquest and sustenance. It was fascinating to discover that the structure was built in seven distinct layers, with each new ruler adding a larger shell over the previous one. A truly humbling thought when you realize that after the Spanish conquest in 1521, this incredible temple was razed, its very stones used to build the Mexico City Metropolitan Cathedral, only to be dramatically rediscovered by utility workers in 1978!

After our historical immersion, we fast-forwarded to contemporary art and design at the Museo Franz Mayer. We were treated to two fantastic exhibitions. The first, "Fashion today! Contemporary Latin American and Latinx design," was a vibrant and fun exploration of modern style. Then, we dove into the captivating world of Japanese Manga, a surprisingly engaging experience.

As the sun began to set, we met up with Michael and Tamara for drinks before heading to dinner. For our evening meal, we returned to a true favorite: Malix. This intimate restaurant, with its distinct Mid-Eastern vibe, consistently delivers. Small, quiet, and serving truly excellent food, Malix is a place I highly recommend for anyone seeking a memorable dining experience in Mexico City. The chef worked at Noma! Which is currently doing a 4 month pop-up in Silverlake. Small world.

What a day it was – a perfect blend of ancient history, modern art, and incredible culinary delights!

Flying to Mexico City

Octopus

It’s a shame that Cathy has a bad back, but one unexpected upside is discovering just how good airport wheelchair service can be. We arranged for a wheelchair at LAX, and the service was truly impressive. They met her right at curbside and escorted her all the way to the gate. On arrival in Mexico City, the experience was just as smooth and efficient.

I won’t go into details, but LAX has to be one of the worst-designed airports we’ve ever encountered. I wouldn’t recommend a bad back to anyone, but wheelchair passengers definitely get priority—and we zipped through.

We landed around 5 p.m. and were met by our driver for the trip into the city. We already had dinner plans with Cathy’s brother Michael and his wife Tamara, who had flown in the day before from Minneapolis. With a 7 p.m. reservation, we weren’t sure there was enough time to get to the hotel, check in, and then make it to the restaurant.

Our driver didn’t speak English, but Google Translate worked perfectly. We asked him to take us straight to the restaurant instead. When we arrived, he surprised us by offering to take our luggage to the hotel, then return after dinner to drop us off—and also take Michael and Tamara back to their hotel. Truly excellent service.

Dinner was at Entremar, a wonderful seafood restaurant in Polanco. We really love this neighborhood—upscale, beautiful, and full of parks and gardens. Over seafood and margaritas, the conversation turned, as it so often does, to health and politics (what else is there to talk about?).

After dinner, we were dropped off at our hotel - Casa Polanco. Tomorrow brings a new adventure.

Mexico City 2026