In the tale of Don Lázaro El Viajero, a Spanish Jew named Lázaro L. Torra, escaping the fascist advance in that nation’s civil war, fled in 1939 to Mexico City – one of tens of thousands that then-President Lázaro Cárdenas invited to find refuge in Mexico amid the black conflict of that war. By 1944 Torra had become something of a restaurateur/maestro, teaching kids in a kinda-working-class, kinda-middle-class neighborhood to speak in English and improve their Spanish and feeding them some decent grub in the same go. (The name of the restaurant, Mr. Lazarus the Traveler, has to do with its proximity to a road heading out of town before the city went all crazy huge and viral.) That was the deal. You got food, but you had to learn something in the process.

Mexico City-born chef Danny Mena, the man behind some of the most exciting Mexican restaurants in New York, has penned a love letter to his hometown in the form of his new cookbook, Made in Mexico (Rizzoli; September 2019). Written with journalist and recipe developer Nils Bernstein, the book mixes recipes inspired by Mexico City street food, local eateries, and higher-end restaurants, resulting in a delicious blend of classic regional and contemporary Mexican cuisine. More than a cookbook, it also functions as an image-filled guide for your next trip to Mexico City. We spoke to Mena about Mexico City’s food scene, Chilangos’ eating habits, the cookbook-writing process and more for the latest installment in our Book Club series.

For the most part, hamburgers in Mexico City disappoint. The accepted bread-to-beef ratio is shameful, with slender slices of overcooked meat hiding somewhere within the pillowy fluff of too much bread. The stringy, flavorless beef underwhelms. Even worse are the fancy sandwiches one finds at upscale burger joints, where blue cheese and spinach and a dozen other inappropriate ingredients only momentarily distract from the aforementioned defects of bad meat and a surfeit of bread. Against this dim backdrop of underachievement, the hamburgers at the Legión Americana shine like stars. This is something of a surprise considering the no-frills, dive bar atmosphere here.