carnitas

Lesley’s husband Crayton is guest-posting while she makes her way back from a trip to India.

So, after all those nice comments I got yesterday, I had to come back for an encore!

Just kidding. Lesley’s had some snags in her travel plans and is getting back to Mexico a little later than planned, so you’re stuck with me again today. But she’s doing just fine! Don’t worry.

This does give me the opportunity to tell you about my favorite Mexico City food: carnitas.

At the place where I work, eating these chopped pork tacos is a ritual so important that it has a name: Carnitas Wednesday, or Miércoles de Carnitas. Yesterday, just like every week, one of my co-workers took orders from the rest of the office and ambled out to the street to our favorite puesto. (Lesley has discussed the place before here (in her section on carnitas, where she notes it’s next to the pirated DVD stand on Rio Sena, just off Reforma in the Colonia Cuauhtémoc).)

We pay 10 pesos ($0.78) per taco, which includes the tip for the three people who work at the stand: the guy who chops up the meat with an enormous hatchet of a knife on a giant cutting board that looks like a slice of tree trunk; the lady who sits by his side, wraps up the to-go orders in foil and plastic baggies and handles the money; and the utility guy, whose main responsibility, I think, is to make sure the condiments (green and red salsas, limes, cilantro and onion) are all readily available. They run a pretty efficient operation.

My friend Carlos gave me lessons long ago on how to order carnitas: “de maciza, bien blanquita.” That means you want your meat really white and lean, without fatty chunks. A lot of Mexicans I know love the fatty chunks, but many Americans I know, including myself. find them icky. The risk you run with carnitas de maciza is that the pork is too dry, but our puesto does a pretty good job of keeping the meat moist. We’ve often found we get better meat if we show up before 2 p.m., when things get really busy.

The portions are generous, with tacos roughly the width of a can of cola on its side. Most of the time I can only eat two, though there are three-carnita days on occasion.

Our puesto just uses store-bought tortillas. If we feel like going all out, we buy some fresh-made tortillas and just order a bunch of meat from the carnitas stand.

Our puesto’s green salsa is fantastic, with an almost creamy consistency, not drippy. The mix of the spicy peppers with the sweet warmth of the meat… Wow. It’s gotten to the point where I wake up on Wednesday mornings already excited about lunch.