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Craving the magic of Italy’s Marocchino in Chicago
Vienna had me at the first sip of a mélange—an airy, delicate coffee made with lightly roasted beans and a blend of frothed and steamed milk (a nod to its name). This cappuccino-like creation has a quiet magic to it– It’s the kind of drink that invites you to linger in a place that truly understands the art of drinking coffee.
Then, Milan threw a new obsession my way: the small yet mighty Marocchino. The name might throw you off—it’s not Moroccan at all. This intense drink was born in Piedmont and slowly spread across Italy. Made with just three essential ingredients—coffee, cocoa powder, and milk—layered in perfect balance and served in a warm shot glass, it delivers a rich experience that stays with you. It’s the kind of discovery that makes you fall for a place in a way no guidebook ever could.
I longingly try to recreate this magic at home and search for it in local coffee shops. I recently discovered that Eataly offers something similar—the Bicerin. Their version features whipped cream, giving it a much sweeter, heavier twist, so I asked for frothed milk instead. It is good, but not exactly how I remember it. You won’t get that see-through warm shot glass here either, which I believe helps keep the layers in place.
I will keep looking.
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Día de Muertos: Why the Right Name Matters
As Día de Muertos draws near, the sights of sugar skulls, pan de muerto, cempasúchitl flowers, and towering altars honoring our loved ones, fill homes and restaurants. This tradition has crossed borders, bringing the heart of this Mexican celebration to communities far and wide.
In the past decade, I’ve watched as Día de Muertos has gained real traction in the U.S., becoming stronger each year. Schools, community centers, and even major brands have started hosting their own events. In fact, this year I was delighted to find an entire selection of ofrenda essentials in downtown Chicago.
Yet, some details are slipping through the cracks—like calling it “Día de los Muertos” instead of Día de Muertos. This isn’t just a linguistic slip. When we shift from Día de Muertos to Día de los Muertos, we lose a little of the celebration’s soul. It’s not just a day for honoring “the dead” in some distant, abstract way; it’s about the living honoring our dead side by side. Día de Muertos, in its simplicity, speaks directly to that connection.
Día de Muertos isn’t a spectacle meant to be admired from afar. It’s a day when the dead and the living gather around the same table. Families set out an extra glass of mezcal, get together to prepare plates of their loved ones’ favorite foods, and fill the air with music to host them. It’s also a time to cherish those around us, and to remember that this tradition belongs as much to the living as it does to the spirits we honor.
Interestingly, the influence of U.S. pop culture on Día de Muertos has even circled back to Mexico, shaping the celebration in new ways. In 2015, the James Bond movie “Spectre” inspired a new tradition, and as a result, Mexico City now hosts a parade. And while it’s natural for traditions to evolve, it’s essential to keep them grounded in their roots or at least try to understand them so that we know why they matter.
Perhaps that’s why it’s a little jarring to see big corporations, marketing campaigns, and even well-intentioned small businesses miss the mark with “Día de los Muertos.” Adding a “los” might seem like a harmless translation of “Day of the Dead,” but as it becomes more widespread, this subtle shift keeps the living out of the celebration, gradually stripping away the essence that makes it Día de Muertos in the first place.
If Día de Muertos teaches us anything, it’s that memory, like language, is alive. Getting the name right is about honoring a legacy and preserving a tradition. So let’s call it by its real name—Día de Muertos—and remember that, much like tradition itself, every name carries a story.
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Death is a Party: Día de Muertos
“Mexicans are familiar with death; they joke about it, caress it, sleep with it, and celebrate it. It is one of their favorite playthings and their most steadfast love.”
-Octavio Paz
Photos: Lissette Storch – Puebla, Mexico
Death is a verb and a noun.
In Mexico, we’ve personified death, dressing her up and giving her endearing nicknames—le hablamos de tú*.
Death is a she.
Originally, sugar skulls were crafted as a reminder of death’s ever-present nature in the dimension of the living, lurking around every corner. They’re just one of many expressions of our inevitable encounter with “the lady of many names”: La Catrina (“the rich or elegant one”), La Tía de las Muchachas (“the girls’ aunt”), La Fría (“the cold one”), La Novia Blanca (“the white bride”).
Death roams among us.
Death is life.
Like any Mexican holiday, food takes the spotlight on Día de Muertos. Alongside pan de muerto—”bread of the dead”—and cempasúchil flowers, sugar skulls are staples of the celebration. Everything about Día de Muertos has intention and weight: the bread symbolizes the circle of life and communion with the dead, while the flowers pay homage to the fleeting nature of existence.
In rural Mexico, this ritual blends form and meaning in a way that’s tangible and sacred.
Growing up in the city, I mostly watched from the sidelines. It wasn’t until my grandmother passed and my uncle and mother took on the responsibility of honoring this three-thousand-year-old tradition that I got pulled in, finding myself increasingly fascinated by it.
Year after year, my family embarks on a journey to a small village on the outskirts of Puebla,
where we build an ofrenda in honor of my grandmother, great-grandmother, and other beloved relatives. These cherished souls are remembered with offerings of their favorite dishes. My grandmother, who had a passion for cooking, is honored not only with food but also with her favorite kitchen tools, carefully placed around her photograph.
Candles serve a dual role, symbolizing both hope and faith while lighting the way for the departed as they make their descent. Water, too, is placed to quench their thirst and symbolize purity. Through these ofrendas, we keep their memory close and call upon their spirits.
The celebration continues at the cemetery, where the living and the departed meet to share a meal, listen to music, and enjoy fireworks.
For a few days in November, in Mexico, death is a party.
* ‘‘Hablar de tú’ means to address someone informally, in contrast to the more respectful ‘usted,’ which is used for strangers or those who haven’t given permission for familiarity.
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UMMO: The Gift Chicago Didn’t Know it Needed
Why UMMO is Chicago’s Italian Restaurant You Can’t Miss
You know that feeling when you come back from a place like Mexico City or Italy, and no matter where you eat, everything seems to fall just a bit short?
It’s that elusive mix of tradition, time, ingredients, and flavors—something you just can’t replicate, no matter how hard you try. To me, this is the poetry of food souvenirs: food is a piece of the land from which it comes.
Speaking of gifts, walking into UMMO after our trip to Bologna felt like unwrapping one. After a few bites I wondered, Are we actually back? That’s the power of chef Vincenzo Vottero—a culinary heavyweight with over 40 years of experience who joined the team in August. A Bologna native, he brings Michelin-star chops and a lifetime of passion to UMMO’s menu. His food isn’t just good– it’s what makes UMMO rise above the sea of Italian restaurants around Chicago.
At first glance, UMMO might seem like just another spot on a bar-lined street. By night, it even doubles as a nightclub, which might make you wonder if they’re serious about the food. But with chef Vottero at the helm, there’s no room for gimmicks, just beautifully crafted Italian cuisine.
We kicked things off with the mortadella, that kind of staple you’d see everywhere in Bologna. Sliced by Chef himself, the mortadella arrives on a fried gnocco, finished with 10-year aged balsamic and Parmigiano Reggiano.
In chef Vottero’s hands, comfort food becomes something worth talking about. You are here for the tortellini with truffle, fittingly called Il Vincitore, or “the winner”—an inventive twist on tortellini in brodo and a reminder that simplicity can be extraordinary.
Next up was the tortelli with lamb belly ragú and a hint of pesto that brings a taste of Liguria into the Bolognese fold. Vottero’s food pulls you in with its nostalgia, but each bite has something new to say.
Take the Ultravioletto Risotto, for example. It sounds modern, but it’s anchored in history, too. At its core is Pecorino di Fossa di Sogliano DOP, a cheese that goes back to the 12th century. This isn’t the kind of ingredient you casually toss into a dish. It’s buried underground to age, picking up flavors from the soil itself. Swap it out for another Pecorino, and you lose that earthy, mineral quality. This dish wasn’t available during our visit, but it’s on our list for next time.
Then came the desserts. First, a tomato mousse with basil sorbet—a pairing that evokes a summer garden, with a subtle sweetness that sneaks up on you. And then, a tiramisú unlike any other: almond cake soaked in coffee and amaretto, layered with mascarpone mousse, and drizzled with chocolate sauce.
Chef Vottero at UMMO is writing Italy’s culinary past in the present, blending tradition with his own creative edge. He understands that food is more than sustenance; it’s culture, memory, history, and place, all piled onto a plate.
And that’s what we want when we eat, isn’t it? To be transported. Chef Vincenzo Vottero does just that. It’s not just Italian food he serves—it’s Italy, brought to us like a gift from a man who knows it by heart.
UMMO:
22 W Hubbard Street, Chicago, IL
Make your reservations HERE. -
Celebrate Hanal Pixan at La Licor Panamericana: The Mayan Día de Muertos
If you’re looking for a reason to gather with friends, taste something extraordinary, and honor Mexico’s rich cultural traditions, this is it—La Licor Panamericana is hosting an event that blends tradition, music, and food into a celebration of Hanal Pixan, the Mayan celebration of Día de Muertos.Drawing inspiration from the Pan-American Highway, which stretches from Mexico to Argentina, La Licor brings together the flavors of the Americas. But it doesn’t stop there—chef Juan Jiménez (Roister, S.K.Y., and The Chicago Club) is also passionate about introducing lesser-known traditions and cuisines, giving diners a chance to explore dishes and culinary highlights that don’t always get the spotlight. For this event, chef Jiménez will focus on the rich celebrations of southeastern Mexico. His goal is to honor traditional recipes while introducing new flavors and techniques that keep things exciting.Like Día de Muertos, Hanal Pixan, or “food for the souls,” is about honoring those who have come before us. But it’s also a vibrant celebration of life.At the heart of this event is none other than chef Pilar Alonso, a name synonymous with Quintana Roo’s rich culinary heritage. Pilar has spent her life mastering the regional flavors that define the cuisine of southeastern Mexico, and on this night, she’s bringing her expertise to Chicago. Her cooking isn’t just about food—it’s about storytelling. Every dish Pilar creates is a tribute to her heritage, full of depth and soul. This is your chance to experience her magic!The 4-course dinner, each paired with a craft cocktail, will take place on October 30th at 8 PM. The night will be filled with live music from Grammy-nominated Flor de Piel and a special menu featuring Zacapa, Don Julio, and Mezcal Unión. Tickets are available through Resy, but with limited spots, be sure to reserve yours here before they’re gone: https://shorturl.at/Q988O -
From the Streets to Stardom: Mexico City’s Michelin-Star Tacos
Taquerías are the pulse of Mexico City, the heartbeat of its streets. And they’re more than just places to grab a quick bite—they’re small universes that capture the city’s soul. They have their own language and set of rules. As tacos have been embraced worldwide, in Mexico, people continue to fall in love with this cornerstone of their diet—a staple that carries centuries of tradition in every bite. Recently, one of these unassuming spots has crossed into a realm few would have ever predicted: Michelin stardom.
I recently walked into El Califa de León with a mix of curiosity and a healthy dose of skepticism. The taquería sits nestled in a quintessential Mexico City market, buzzing with vendors. We parked right in front, wedging ourselves beside a stand selling shirts emblazoned with the taquería’s logo, proudly displayed alongside the Michelin man—a snapshot of local ingenuity and pragmatic prowess. In this perfect blend of street hustle and global recognition, a tiny taco joint is making waves—and rightfully so.
The first thing that hits you is the unmistakable aroma of sizzling meats and fresh tortillas. You know you’ve arrived at the right spot because, even in the morning, there’s a line. The grill works overtime, and tortillas are made right next to it. The whole place hums with the efficiency and energy of a kitchen that’s mastered its craft, yet it retains the casual vibe of your favorite neighborhood spot. Some people know the people behind the counter by name and proudly make recommendations to visitors snapping photos and videos.
There’s a few options including steak and pork. Ask for the gaonera taco, the place’s crown jewel. Named after a bullfighting pass, and in honor of the taquerías godfather, a bullfighter, this tenderloin-like cut is seasoned with lime and salt and then grilled. One bite, and it’s clear why Michelin came calling. The meat is tender, juicy, smoky—a reminder that sometimes, the best food doesn’t need to shout. It just needs to be done right.
And let’s not forget the salsas. In Mexico City, a good taquería lives or dies by them, and El Califa delivers. There’s heat, there’s depth, and there’s that sense of balance that only comes when a kitchen truly understands its ingredients. I love a good green tomatillo sauce, but the red salsa is popular here—and it’s fantastic.
The tacos disappear as quickly as they’re served, which is a good thing since this tiny stall can barely seat three. You’re in, you devour, you leave. No need to linger.
El Califa de León is proof that street food doesn’t need to compromise to earn its place in the culinary canon. It’s still the kind of place where you sit elbow to elbow with strangers, the hum of the city as your soundtrack. It’s honest, unpretentious, and, above all, downright fantastic.
Michelin stars or not, I’d come back to this place in a heartbeat. Because at the end of the day, the real star here is the food. -
Rediscovering Jaleo: Chef John Borras Brings Spanish Tradition to Life
I’ve been to Jaleo a few times before. I know the drill: the colorful atmosphere, the endless parade of small plates, each offering a small window into Spain’s soul. The restaurant, bearing José Andrés’ name, carries a pedigree.
This time, something felt different. The reason? Chef John Borras, who was recently drafted as Jaleo’s executive chef.
If you’ve followed Borras’s culinary journey, as I have for over a decade, you know the kind of power this chef and restaurateur (1492 Tapas and Bar, Macarena) brings to a kitchen. His understanding and reverence for Spanish tradition is undeniable, but what sets him apart is his fearless reinterpretation of it. From the moment I sat down, it was clear he had injected new life into the offerings.
Take the pan con tomate, for instance. It’s a dish that’s as simple as it gets—ripe, fresh tomatoes on bread, with a drizzle of olive oil and a sprinkle of salt. But here, it’s different. The bread comes out with a golden crust that’s just the right amount of crunchy and the perfect vehicle for the jamón de bellota, that legendary Ibérico ham from the famed pata negra pigs. These aren’t just any pigs. They’re acorn-fed, free-roaming, the Rolls Royce of pork, if you will. And you can taste the difference. Try the paletilla, which is a cut from the shoulder. The ham is tender and rich, with that perfect marbling that practically melts on your tongue. There’s a deep, nutty flavor from the acorn-based diet that makes this meat unlike anything else. And while you might find Ibérico ham elsewhere in Chicago, I have yet to encounter paletilla like this.
Then, there are the popular and ubiquitous croquetas. When done right, they’re addictive—crispy on the outside, warm and gooey on the inside. At Jaleo, ham croquetas arrive golden and crisp, their centers creamy and almost molten. But it’s the pairing that takes them to the next level. Served with a side of paletilla ham, the combination is nothing short of divine. The contrast of the creamy croqueta interior, the crisp exterior, and the luscious, fatty ham is a perfect marriage of textures and flavors.
When you visit, don’t stop at the classics (though the ham croquetas are a must). Save room for the new dishes Borras has added to the menu—like the ribeye paella or the cachopo, Spain’s answer to Wiener Schnitzel.
Having chef Borras´food so close is such a treat! Let him take you on a culinary tour through Spain with his distinct, masterful touch, a nod to Spain’s love for communal, shareable food.
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Experiencia Gastronómica en El Tajín #CDMX
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Chiles en Nogada: The Dish of a Revolution
We recommend:
In Mexico City:
In Chicago:
I wrote an article for Eater Chicago that is periodically updated.
*Military leader
Originally published on 8/11/2013. Updated 9/8/2024.
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ROOP: ROOH’s Ode to Nostalgia
You’ve probably heard the name ROOH whispered by those in the know—the restaurant has been making waves in the city’s culinary scene for a few years now. ROOH has earned its stripes, gaining a “Plate” distinction in the 2020 Michelin Guide and a spot on many discerning foodie lists. Now, the team is taking things up a notch with their latest venture, ROOP—a tasting menu that delivers a journey through memories and places.
Meaning “beauty” in Hindi, ROOP invites patrons to dive into a thoughtful eight-course tasting menu, available in both vegetarian and non-vegetarian options. Rina Mallick, one of the brilliant minds behind ROOH, shared that many of these dishes are deeply connected to nostalgia. The menu draws inspiration from the vibrant streets of India, tapping into the flavors and cultural touchstones that have shaped countless experiences. With the collaboration of Michelin-starred Chef Mike Cornelissen (RijnZicht), ROOP offers an intriguing new take on Indian cuisine.
The menu kicks off with dishes rooted in Indian street food—a flight of pani puri followed by vada, a humble fritter that, according to Mallick, is particularly popular with students, holding a place similar to the one ramen occupies in the hearts of many Western students due to its affordability. For the third course, non-vegetarians will delight in a quick trip to Goa with a sea scallop that is light and flavorful. Caviar can be added as a supplement. We chose to let the flavors of the scallop shine on their own but are excited to try it with caviar next time.
If I had to pick one standout, it’s got to be the lamb served with papaya sorbet. I know, it sounds like something that shouldn’t work—but in the hands of Chef Mike Cornelissen, it’s pure magic. The richness of the lamb, perfectly balanced by the cool, unexpected sweetness of the sorbet, creates a combination that’s as surprising as it is delicious.
And then there’s the chicken royal. The chicken itself is sublime, but if you’re in the mood to treat yourself (and let’s be honest, you’re here, so you should), you can top it with truffle. There’s also a mushroom-based counterpart for those leaning towards a vegetarian meal, and yes, it too can be adorned with truffle.
Many of these dishes are deeply connected to memories, both personal and cultural. As you taste them, you’re transported—not just to the bustling markets of India, but to places in your own memory where flavor and nostalgia intertwine. For me, it’s impossible not to draw parallels to my own experiences with Mexican cuisine—the same addictive dance of sweet, spicy, and acidic that just works. The food in my memories translates every flavor into Spanish: take their guava mocktail, for instance. One sip, and I was instantly reminded of a margarita.
In my opinion, there is no amount of travel or research that can create that gravitational force that the dishes of a mother tongue have over one’s soul. There’s an imprint that the food of our mothers and grandmothers leave, that cannot be artificially recreated, which is why felt lucky to have Mallick as our guide, as she generously explained touches like the mandala—a celebratory and symbolic design used to plate the lamb dish—that could have easily gone unnoticed without her insight. There’s also a bit of fun theatrics– as this culinary journey comes to a close, ROOH ensures the finale is just as memorable as the beginning. The Cracked Egg, where a dessert resembling an egg is cracked on your plate, and the Last Train Station, a nostalgic nod to the chai wallahs of India serving chai in bustling train stations, yet distinctly American in its campfire-style presentation, close out a meal that has taken you from the streets of India to the heart of the U.S.
This connection to memory and place is what makes the ROOP experience so special. It’s not just about what’s on the plate—it’s about where those flavors take you. And the best part? The whole experience is incredibly accessible at just $95 for the tasting menu, with wine pairings for $55.
Alongside this new tasting initiative, ROOH will also introduce a refreshed a la carte menu by Executive Chef Rohit Thaledi, featuring new dishes such as Saag Paneer Kofta, Goan Crab Cakes with Xec Xec Sauce, and Gulab Jamun Cheesecake.
ROOP is available Sunday to Wednesday. Make your reservation on OpenTable.