Octavia Casa: La Condesa’s Chic New Boutique Hotel

A minimalist and modern retreat in one of CDMX’s most vibrant neighborhoods, Octavia Casa provides a tranquil sanctuary. 

Duke stands in front of the teak screening that covers the façade of the small boutique hotel.

When Wally and I decided to plan our second trip to Mexico City, aka CDMX, we agreed that we wanted to stay in La Condesa, the leafy green, pedestrian-friendly neighborhood where the city’s Art Deco movement was born. 

We love to stay in small, stylish hotels where we get to know the staff, and I was pleased to discover Octavia Casa. It’s location is ideal; it’s within walking distance of Parque México and Avenida Amsterdam, which was once a horse racetrack and is now home to numerous trendy shops and restaurants. 

The gravel courtyard off the entrance where we had breakfast

A Fashionable Place to Stay

The modern boutique hotel is an extension of Octavia, the contemporary women’s wear fashion brand launched in 2015 by Mexico City-based designer and creative director Roberta Maceda. 

When Maceda decided to venture into hospitality, she collaborated with architect Pablo Peréz Palacios and his firm PPAA (Pérez Palacios Arquitectos Asociados). Peréz Palacios thoughtfully drew inspiration from the eponymous label to create a unique hospitality experience. 

Upon arrival, we stepped out of the car and onto Avenida Amatlan. I was struck by the textures and shadows that were filtering sunlight through the teak lattice screen covering the façade of the hotel. At street level, lush tropical vegetation including monstera and jasmine add an organic element that pairs with the concrete and glass structure beneath. 

Beyond is the lobby, a space for rest and relaxation. A bronze rack holds a small collection of dresses from Octavia and a stone vase with dried magnolia leaves sits atop a circular concrete table by interior design studio Habitación 116 paired with a couple of Pierre Jeanneret Chandigarh office chairs. 

Octavia Casa’s lobby is really more of a foyer, making visitors really feel like they’re staying in a home.

The hotel’s chic minimalist aesthetic is inspired by Octavia, the women’s wear label run by the owner. A few of her dresses are on display in the lobby.

Around the corner the “lobby” continues into a communal open-air patio covered in pea gravel, which creates a zen ambiance. 

The staff described the open-air space as a continuation of the lobby.

You can see the stucco work on the wall — a technique that’s been around since the Ancient Maya.

The ingenious and well-designed interior staircase, which Wally referred to as Escheresque, ascends and descends from the ground floor to the rooftop in 90-degree turns. 

The sleek concrete stairwells looked to Wally like something out of an M.C. Escher drawing.

The scent of lilies filled the air.

A Modern Mix of Materials

A cohesive palette of muted neutrals are featured throughout Octavia Casa, anchored by refined natural and sustainable materials such as stone, wood, rattan and textiles. Interior walls are finished in chukum, a traditional and environmentally friendly Ancient Mayan stucco technique extracted by twice boiling the thorny tree’s bark. The resulting spaces are airy and bright, as well as rich, textured and welcoming. 

Reeded glass catwalks add yet another interesting visual element.

Each of the seven rooms are named after a natural element or material, such as Earth, Ochre, Bronze and Jute. We stayed in the Lino suite, the only room on the third floor, with balconies overlooking the interior courtyard and Avenida Amatlan. 

Wally does one of his jumping shots — and in a hotel as amazing as this, who can blame him?

A Sweet Suite at Octavia Casa

Our suite felt like an elegantly appointed residence and we immediately felt at home. 

The king-size bed, with linens by Octavia Casa’s homeware line, was luxurious and welcoming — especially after days spent exploring sites and the neighborhood, which had so many things to see that I feel like we barely scratched the surface. The Lino suite is also only one flight from the rooftop terrace, an oasis that provides views of the surrounding neighborhood. 

The Lino suite at Octavia Casa

A quiet nook near the balcony that overlooks the interior courtyard

The property doesn’t include a restaurant. However, they do offer a breakfast buffet in the ground-floor courtyard. We opted to do this for a few days and it included Nespresso coffee, baguettes, brie, seasonal fresh fruit, juices, jams by Rosetta, yogurt, croissants and conchas, a traditional Mexican sweetened bread roll with a crunchy topping. I was mildly obsessed with the handmade bowl-shaped mugs, and when I asked where they were from, one of the staff members, Fedra, kindly provided the name of the shop: Templo. (Incidentally, Fedra makes a mean latte.)

Fresh fruit, yogurt and bread are on offer at the breakfast buffet.

How we started every day

The coffee and espresso mugs Duke was obsessed with

In the evening the lobby transforms, illuminated by candlelight, with libations on offer, from local mezcals and tequilas to a selection of wines available for purchase. 

The personnel, including Raúl, Fedra and Luis, were genuine and friendly and took the time to make Wally and I feel welcome with every encounter. Thoughtful gestures such as a complimentary bottle of red wine for my birthday and offering the guest lounge on the ground floor when we anxiously took our on-site COVID tests, arranged by Octavia Casa, before flying home. Another employee, Silvia, reminded us of our favorite Spanish teacher, Mariú, and was a delight the entire time. She gave me a big hug on my birthday as again when we left. 

The staff at Octavia Casa gave birthday boy Duke the special treatment.

We found Octavia Casa to be a unique and unpretentious accommodation. (And so did Natalia Lafourcade, one of Mexico’s most famous singers, who stayed there at the same time as us and had the staff all aflutter.) It’s the perfect place to wake up and return to after each day’s adventures. If you’re planning a trip to this magical city, look no further and book your stay here. –Duke

Pale concrete and teak pair with green plants and the blue sky, helping make Octavia Casa a tranquil retreat from the bustle of CDMX.

Octavia Casa
Avenida Amatlan 126
Hipódromo Condesa
Cuauhtémoc
06170 Ciudad de México, CDMX
Mexico

Barragán’s Mind-Boggling Torres de Satélite

Just outside of CDMX, the Satellite Towers seem to change shape before your very eyes.

“The towers make us look thinner!” Duke exclaimed.

When we first saw the Torres de Satélite (Satellite Towers), I must admit that I was not very impressed. Granted, we were speeding past them on the freeway to the northwestern suburb on the outskirts of Mexico City named, appropriately, Satélite (Merriam-Webster’s third definition of “satellite” being “a usually independent urban community situated near but not immediately adjacent to a large city”).

Seen from the freeway, the Torres de Satélite are cool but not overly impressive.

From one side, the towers look entirely rectangular, but — spoiler! — they’re not!

The five towers struck me as simple yet colorful rectangular sculptures rising into the sky. There didn’t seem to be much that was interesting about them.

But that was before we parked nearby and experienced them on foot. 

“What at first seemed to be rectangular structures reveal themselves to actually be triangular.

You walk on a bit, keeping your eyes on the ever-morphing shapes, and suddenly one of the towers looks entirely flat! ”

It’s fun tooling around in a bright orange-red Volkswagen bus.

Barragán Tour With the Traveling Beetle

One of my old coworkers had told me about Luis Barragán, and while I admired the clean lines and bright colors in the photos I saw of his works, I confess that I wasn’t fully appreciative of his supposed genius as an architect.

So I was happy to hear that Duke had booked us a half-day excursion to see some of Barragán’s projects just outside of Mexico City, through a tour group called the Traveling Beetle. A brief review:

Duke and Wally posing near their sytlin’ ride for the day

The cons: It’s definitely on the expensive side at $115 per person (that’s U.S. dollars, although keep in mind that the Mexican peso also uses the $ symbol). And, as cute as the vintage 1976 VW bus was to zoom around in, there weren’t any seatbelts. 

The pros: Everything else. 

Indeed, it’s no exaggeration when I say that I can thank our guide, Martín, in large part for my newfound appreciation of Barragán. His passion was contagious.

The architect who designed neighborhoods in the CDMX suburb of Cuidad Satélite hired Barragán to create an iconic, bold sculpture to impress visitors to the new development.

A Dramatic Entrance to Ciudad Satélite

Our first stop of the day was an exploration of the Torres de Satélite. We pulled into a parking lot just beyond them, which Martín described as one of the best-kept secrets of the area.

Barragán was hired to create an iconic entrance to the Ciudad Satélite, which was, at the time of the Torres de Satélite’s construction in 1958, a new community. Mario Pani, an architect known for modern megaprojects, designed the neighborhood and had been impressed with Barragán’s El Pedregal, gardens developed over lava fields. Wanting something that made a similar bold statement, Pani commissioned Barragán, who collaborated on the tower design with the artist Mathias Goeritz.

“It’s a piece of art,” Martín says, as we get out of the car and head toward the towers. “They’re in between sculpture and architecture.” 

The design of the Torres de Satélite was a collaboration with the Mexican artist Mathias Goeritz. This painting inspired Barragán to create the impressive monoliths.

The towers are in a concrete median in the middle of a bustling freeway, with commercial developments on either side. Note how Barragán ingeniously positioned the structures so their angles align at various vantage points.

The bright primary colors we see today weren’t the original hues, Martín informs us. Originally, the towers were painted in warm tones of ochre and orange. But when all eyes were on Mexico City for the 1968 Olympics, the city asked Barragán to refresh the palette. 

As can be seen in this vintage shot, the towers originally had a different color scheme. They were updated to coincide with the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City.

It’s a bit ironic that an architect known for his intense pops of color didn’t actually choose those colors himself. Barragán worked closely with the artist Chucho Reyes, who was the one who actually determined what colors to use. 

Barragán must have been pleased with the choice of primary colors, but Pani was not. In fact, the color scheme alteration caused the two architects to argue and part ways.

Are the towers rectangular? Triangular? Flat? Depends on where you’re standing!

The Optical Illusions of the Torres de Satélite

From afar, the towers look static — almost, I dare say, a bit boring. But then, upon approach, you see them transform into all sorts of dimensions and shapes. As you walk around the base of the towers, which range from 98 to over 160 feet tall, you’re constantly surprised: What at first seemed to be rectangular structures reveal themselves to actually be triangular. You walk on a bit, keeping your eyes on the ever-morphing shapes, and suddenly one of the towers looks entirely flat! 

Yet another optical illusion employed by Barragán was the use of forced perspective. The rows of bricks get smaller and tighter as they progress up each tower to evoke an increased sense of height.

Note the forced perspective — the horizontal lines get closer and closer as they near the top. This makes the tower look taller that it really is. The blue was chosen to match the sky.

The door at the base of the far tower is open, so I peek my head in. There isn’t anything impressive in there — it’s just an unfinished space with some maintenance tools scattered about in the thick layer of grime. Martín tells us he saw a homeless man seeking shelter inside one of the towers on a previous visit.

I was surprised to discover that the towers are open at the top. Birds flitted about inside. 

“Some people call them big birdhouses,” Martín continues. He points to the birdshit that covers the interior. “And that’s exactly what they are.”

The towers aren’t usually open, but we were able to peek inside one — and were surprised to discover that they’re open at the top.

Martín has us note how the towers cast shadows upon each other, creating additional ever-shifting lines, black shapes that mimic the malleability of the towers themselves. 

“Shadow was one of Barragán’s obsessions,” he explains.

The shadows that form shifting patterns on the towers were part of Barragán’s consideration in the design. He was always aware of the power of chiaroscuro.

Pretty much any picture of the towers could be considered modern art (at least that’s what Wally thinks).

Las Torres de Satélite ended up being but an appetizer on our tour of Barragán’s suburban works (with Cuadra San Cristóbal being the main course). They seem to defy the very laws of physics and are a great introduction to the brilliance of Barragán. –Wally

---

Las Torres de Satélite can be combined with a tour of other Barragán works in the northwestern suburbs of Mexico City.

Torres de Satélite
Ciudad Satélite
53100 Naucalpan de Juárez
State of Mexico
Mexico

11 Tips When Visiting Xochimilco

Here’s what to know about trajineras, how to rent these Xochimilco boats, and how to get the most of your trip to chinampas and the Isla de las Muñecas.

Xochimilco is nicknamed the Venice of Mexico City — though the boats are much more whimsical than Italian gondolas.

Wally enjoyed a pleasant few hours at Xochimilco.

1. Pronounce it properly.

It’s “So-chee-meel-ko.”

“A long table runs the length of the trajinera, situated under a canopy. Food and socializing are the main priorities. ”

Floating gardens called chinampas line the waterways.

The Xochimilco canals are some of the only remaining features from Aztec times.

2. Learn a bit about its history before you go.

The Xochimilco canals are a vestige of the ancient Aztec Empire and still provide much-needed water to Mexico City. Now a UNESCO World Heritage Site, they’re located about 17 miles south of the Centro Histórico. 

The name is from Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs, and translates to Flower Garden, a reference to the “floating gardens” now known as chinampas. These man-made islets are situated throughout the waterways and are covered with fruits, vegetables and other plants. (We passed a large poinsettia farm on our excursion.) They’re a clever way to create more arable land in the midst of a wetland. 

We chose to launch from Embarcadero Nuevo Nativitas.

3. Choose your embarkation point.

This confused us a bit, as there are a few different spots you can launch from. We ended up choosing Embarcadero Nuevo Nativitas, as it’s the best spot to leave from to visit the closest Island of the Dead Dolls (see below). 

Duke and Wally aboard the Esperanza

No motors on these boats — they’re propelled and steered by a pole.

4. Don’t worry about haggling over the price.

Duke and I walked the docks, looking out at the brightly colored armada, wondering how we were going to choose one of the flat-bottomed boats known as trajineras, which sport painted archways and look like Mardi Gras floats. But then one of the captains, Sandro, approached us and offered to take us out for 500 pesos an hour (about $25 an hour). We had no idea if this was a good price — but he pointed to an official sign that had that rate right on it. That sold us, and we were glad we didn’t have to barter. So Captain Sandro aboard the Esperanza (which translates to Hope) it was!

A nearby store provided snacks and adult beverages to enjoy on our boat ride.

5. Bring some food and drinks.

As our Uber pulled into Nativita, the first thing we did was pop into a local market and buy some snacks and booze. We were glad to find a shop but next time we’ll plan a bit better and make sure we have a picnic, including fixings for margaritas. In fact, it would be a lot of fun to have a party on one of the boats. A long table runs the length of the trajinera, situated under a canopy. Food and socializing are the main priorities. 

Some of the boats in the waterways are the equivalent of floating food trucks.

The delicious quesadillas we had for lunch that were made by a nice couple aboard a trajinera.

6. But save room for the waterborne food vendors.

It’s not too tragic if you forget to bring along some food. There are people who paddle narrow, flat boats along the canals, selling freshly made Mexican dishes. We bought quesadillas from a nice couple who parked near the Island of the Dead Dolls (hold your horses — it’s coming up).

Hire a mariachi band and have a dance party aboard your trajinera.

Strains of mariachi music can often be heard on the canals.

7. Hire a floating mariachi band.

We cheated and just enjoyed hearing the strains of the lively music as we passed by. There are entire boats filled with musicians in their traditional garb, and we saw a couple of bands aboard a rented trajinera, playing their tunes as people danced.

Horrifying (but cool) dolls like this are strung up all over the Island of the Dead Dolls.

The creepy Isla de las Muñecas

8. Plan a trip to the Island of Dead Dolls.

If you like creepy, off-the-wall spots, like we do, you have to stop by la Isla de las Muñecas, aka the Island of the Dead Dolls. This small isle is covered with dolls left in offering to appease the ghost of a little girl who drowned. Duke and I had found a doll on the street behind the Uptown Theater in Chicago, brought it with us to CDMX and left it on the island. Read more about the Island of Dead Dolls here.

As the day wears on, the canals get more and more crowded.

9. You might want to go a bit early in the day. 

We had a relatively early start to our excursion, and the canals weren’t too busy for most of the time we spent there. Until, that is, we started heading back, and the canals were utterly clogged. When we got back to the embarcadero, I didn’t know how we were going to get through the traffic jam to dock. But Captain Sandro somehow eventually  maneuvered us through the deadlock. 

While we visited Xochimilco, the bizarre Danza de los Voladores was taking place.

10. Don’t miss the Danza de los Voladores.

After a pleasant couple of hours on the canals, we disembarked and walked around Nuevo Nativitas, where some market stalls had been set up. We cut over to head back to the parking area — and beheld quite a sight! Four men were hanging head-first in the air, spinning around a pole, held by ropes tied around their ankles. They circled the pole while one of their compatriots played something between a pipe and a percussion instrument while sitting atop the pole. I had actually seen such a spectacle on the Yucatán and knew it was a traditional ceremony — it’s part of the native Totonaca people’s folk culture and is known as la Danza de los Voladores, or the Dance of the Flying Men.

While you’re in this neck o’ the woods, visit the Museo Dolores Olmedo to see a large collection of Frida and Diego paintings on the grounds of an amazing estate.

11. Pair Xochimilco with a visit to the Dolores Olmedo Museum.

This gorgeous estate holds one of the largest collections of the works of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera. Come for the art, stay for the peacocks that roam the grounds. From Embarcadero Nuevo Nativitas, it’s about a 10-minute drive away. Read more about the Museo Dolores Olmedo here. 

Before we left for Mexico City, a couple of friends who had lived there told us we absolutely had to check out Xochimilco — and they were right. It’s definitely one of the things that we will do again when we return. –Wally

This perro hopped from boat to boat in search of food and affection.

Duke’s on a boat!

National Museum of Mexican Art: A Hidden Gem in Chicago

Remedios Varo, Frida Khalo and Diego Rivera are all part of the rich heritage of Mexican artists honored at this all-too-often-overlooked museum.

If you’re not all tied up, make a visit to the National Museum of Mexican Art in Chicago — it’s dog-gone great!

It’s one of our favorite fall activities. Every October, Duke and I make a trip to the National Museum of Mexican Art on the South Side of Chicago to see the ofrendas set up for the Day of the Dead. These altars for loved ones who have died are always colorful, touching and artistic — and, despite being tributes to the dead, they never fail to make you smile. 

An ofrenda to Diego Rivera, one of the most famous Mexican artists of all time

Plus, it’s an excuse to wander the Pilsen neighborhood to see its street murals and grab some tacos and tamales. Pilsen is known as a Mexican neighborhood, though the artists who once called it home got priced out and vacated to Logan Square (and have most likely been priced out again and moved on to the new up-and-coming enclave). 

When you visit the museum, be sure to take a walk through the colorful neighborhood of Pilsen and go mural-hunting.

We were unable to see the ofrendas this year because of that pesky pandemic, so we reached out to the museum to tell us a bit more about one of the most impressive cultural centers in the city and to share their favorite artists (the founder seems particularly fond of the Surrealists).

The gift shop at the museum is filled with great Mexican handicrafts.

When the museum reopens, be sure to visit. It’s a small space, so you could easily see it all in one visit. And the gift shop is an exhibition itself, filled with Mexican handicrafts, from brightly painted fantastic beasts to comical skeletons. If that’s not enough to entice you, admission to the National Museum of Mexican Art is always free.

Here’s a Q&A with the museum’s founder, Carlos Tortolero. –Wally 

Duke loves the National Museum of Mexican Art thiiiiiiiis much!

Wally in front of a cool exhibit with knitted fruit

How did the museum come about?

Founder Carlos Tortolero, a former high school teacher who’s now president of the museum, invited four of his fellow teachers and his sister, also a teacher, to form a nonprofit to create a museum in 1982.

CHema Skandal’s take on lotería cards depicts Donald Trump as “the Evil One.” After launching his political career by calling Mexicans rapists and drug dealers, we agree with that moniker.

What is its mission?

To showcase the richness of Mexican art from both sides of the border from ancient times to the present.

Laura Molina’s Amor Alien from 2004 is part of the museum’s permanent collection.

Tell us about Mexican art.

Mexican art is an amazing cultural tradition. From ancient times to the present, the manifestations of Mexican art have earned worldwide recognition.

Who are some of your favorite artists?

Artists who are deceased that I admire are:

• Saturnino Herrán

Saturnino Herrán, The Offering, 1913

• Remedios Varo

Remedios Varo, Simpatía (La Rabia del Gato), 1955

• José Celmente Orozco

José Celmente Orozco, The Trench, 1926

• Diego Rivera

Diego Rivera, detail from Dream of a Sunday Afternoon in Alameda Park, 1948

---

READ MORE

Diego’s Amazing Museum in Mexico City

Dolores Almedo’s Home, the Largest Private Collection of Diego’s Works

---

• David Alfaro Siqueiros

David Alfaro Siqueiros, La Marcha de la Humanidad, 1966

• María Izquierdo

María Izquierdo, Viernes de Dolores, 1945

• Frida Kahlo

Frida Kahlo, The Two Fridas, 1939

---

READ MORE

9 Fascinating Facts About Frida Kahlo

A Visit to La Casa Azul, Frida’s House

Coyoacán, Frida’s Boho Neighborhood

---

• Salvador Dali

• Rene Magritte

Living artists: 

• Patssi Valdez

Patssi Valdez, The Enchanted Garden, 2005

• John Valadez

John Valadez, Pool Party, 1987

• Marcos Raya

Marcos Raya, Girl With Prosthesis, 2010

• Nahum Zenil

Nahum Zenil, Con Todo Respecto, 1983

Murals have long been an important part of Mexican culture.

What’s special about the Pilsen neighborhood?

Pilsen has historically been a port of entry for immigrants from Europe and now from Mexico. There’s a dynamism of activism that has always made Pilsen stand out from other communities. Pilsen also has excellent restaurants and bakeries based on Mexican cuisine.

Skeletons are a popular motif in Mexican art — especially around Día de los Muertos.

What else is the museum used for?

The museum hosts numerous events during the year, from health workshops dealing with health issues like HIV, cancer and lupus, community fundraisers, immigration presentations, city-wide initiatives and, of course, presentations of authors, musical groups and theater.

Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl by Jesus Helguera welcomes visitors to the permanent collection gallery at the National Mexican Museum of Art.

For the Love of Latin Food

Most cooking sites get Mexican, Puerto Rican, Cuban and Dominican recipes wrong. Familia Kitchen sets out to correct that by highlighting authentic family recipes.

Home cooking should be easy and delicious.

I admit that when it came to Latin cuisine, I was hopelessly naïve. I expected all of the countries of Central and South America to have the bold, spicy flavors of Mexico. So I was quite surprised when I got to Peru and realized that the national cuisine had little in common with Mexico’s. But the soups I had along the Incan Trail to Machu Picchu were absolutely delicious, and I had a tres colores ceviche that might be the best I’ve ever had. I also enjoyed my alpaca medallions on the shore of Lake Titicaca — just don’t ask me about the guinea pig.

Now, as a more seasoned traveler (and foodie), I realize that every country has its own distinct cuisine, each delicious in its own way.

Food is an essential part of travel for us, and Duke and I eat as globally in our cuisine as possible. So it was with great excitement and anticipation that we awaited the launch of Familia Kitchen, by my friend and former colleague, Kim. –Wally

What’s not to love about Latin food, in all its many varieties?!

“Grandmother cooking is fast, because abuelas know how to get dinner on the table quickly. And it’s authentic, because it comes from their heart and their homeland soil.”

— Kim Caviness, CEO and editor in chief, Familia Kitchen

What made you decide to launch Familia Kitchen? 

I’ve long been fascinated by what people cook at home, for themselves. On a regular weeknight and on important occasions, like a family holiday: What do they make and why? If I meet someone new, I’ll try to find a way to ask them a typical thing they make for dinner and about their family food heritage — by the way, it almost always comes from their mother’s culture. Their face lights up when they start talking. 

Food is family is history is identity. 

Li’l Kim in Puerto Rico, already a big fan of food

I grew up in Puerto Rico, right by San Juan, surrounded by so many cousins and aunts and uncles. My mother’s family goes back many generations on the island. We rotated from aunt to aunt for family holidays, which always involved lots of cooking.

In Puerto Rico, my family owned a little hotel, a guesthouse called El Canario. It was my mother’s house when she grew up. My grandmother, Rocío — which  means “morning dew,” isn’t that so pretty? — lived next door. That’s the Latino way: Family lives near each other and gets together a lot, over food. My parents would often invite our American hotel guests back to our place across the street for drinks. Dad had this tiki bar in our apartment and he’d swish up daiquiris and piña coladas, and Mom would make delicious dishes, often Puerto Rican traditional ones. I’d watch her in the kitchen. I wanted to do that when I grew up.

Kim’s family owned El Canario Hotel near San Juan, Puerto Rico, where they’d invite guests to their apartment-cum-tiki-bar across the street.

Now I’m the grownup hosting family holiday meals, and if I want to make authentic dishes from my childhood, the only way to get them is straight from Mom. There are lots of good blogs, but when I consult the major recipe websites, they don’t get Latino food right. They often mix up Mexican and Puerto Rican, Dominican, Cuban and so on. They water down the flavors and ingredients. They use the wrong kind of rice or not-quite-right spices. It seems like they see all Latinos as one monolithic Hispanic food segment. Sometimes, they’ll have a talented chef doing a traditional dish “Nuevo Latino” style. Which usually sounds great and I’m all for innovation, but it will list 20+ ingredients and steps. You couldn’t make it for a normal, daily, family dinner. 

Kim, with her son, Bob

For years, I’d think to myself: That’s not how Latina abuelas — our good-cook grandmothers — would make that dish. Why overcomplicate?  And how do we keep their recipes alive?

So I determined to do something about it. I decided to create a website with only authentic abuela cooking. We’d publish the favorite family recipes of Latino/a/x homecooks who have their go-tos dishes memorized. Who know when and how to break traditional food rules — and when not to. They are the OG keepers of our culinary traditions.

Mmmmm…nachos!

When did you get the idea for the site? 

The specific idea for Familia Kitchen, a crowdsourced and curated Latino/a/x family recipes and food stories website, came to me the week of Christmas 2019, when I was trying to find a Puerto Rican recipe online — and struck out. 

Nine months later, like a baby: Familia Kitchen launched. Our mission is to celebrate and collect Latinx families’ favorite recipes, as we really make them. We’ll go country by country, island by island, memorializing families’ favorite recipes before they get lost to time. 

Kim, Lisa and Ana decided to found Familia Kitchen — the kind of Latinx recipe site they dreamed of.

What’s your site’s mission?

Our dream is to create the best, biggest and most authentic treasury of Latinx culinary legacies — for all 19 Spanish-speaking destinations in Latin and Central America and the Caribbean — showcasing their simplicity and sophistication. Very important: We’ll celebrate the home cooks who submit by posting their bylines, family food stories and cook’s notes.

Boricua-style Puerto Rican rice with chicken. Sharing your family’s recipes on Familia Kitchen could score you a free trip home!

Tell us about your recipe contests. 

One of the ways Familia Kitchen will gather the best traditional Latinx recipes is by inviting users to submit to our 12 Familia Kitchen recipe contests a year. Each month, we’ll feature one defining dish from a Latinx country or island and invite cooks to submit their family’s favorite. In October, we launched with Your Familia’s Favorite Puerto Rican Arroz con Pollo. In November, we switched to Your Familia’s Favorite Mexican Pozole. We will publish every recipe and food story submitted. They’re all authentic, time-honored and loved. 

Familia Kitchen will build our culinary treasury one recipe, one food story at a time.

At the end of each year, the cook who submits the “most popular” family recipe — the most likes, most shares, most comments — will win a trip (flight, hotel, an amazing meal) for two to their Latinx homeland. Our tagline is “Cooking your way home” — and Familia Kitchen is excited to literally make that happen for one Latinx cook and their plus-one each year. We’ll also donate 5% of our profits each year to a Feeding America Latino community program.

What’s your favorite aspect of Latinx cuisine?
The richness of the regionality of each Latinx nation’s flavors and food histories. And the way each destination’s food is different from each other in foundational ways, yet in the same food family. Cuban and Argentinian cuisines are pretty different, yet they are both unmistakably “Latino.”

Family gathered to celebrate young Kim’s birthday.

What’s the best part about cooking?

Feeding people you love: friends and family. I also love experiencing someone’s life and family through their food stories and memories. When they tell you that this is the very beef picadillo that they always ate at their grandparents’ house on Father’s Day when they were growing up. And then you make that picadillo, with its hints of that family’s own way of cooking and living — you can literally taste a time and place and people. Food anthropology.

One of Kim’s favorite recipes: pasteles with pork, wrapped in banana leaves

What are some of your favorite recipes?

I love so many. We have a recipe for pasteles with pork, green bananas and yautia from a friend I went to elementary school with that takes me back in time to Puerto Rico of 100 years ago. My husband’s cousin Anjie, whose family came from Spain to New Mexico in the 1600s, submitted their never-see-it-anywhere-else recipe for sweet chile rellenos with hatch chiles that is a revelation. A friend, Susana, who is from Peru, sent me her family recipe for the fish ceviche they eat at the beach. What an honor. 

And one of my co-founders, Ana: Her husband Brian writes a regular column for us called “Guero Corner.” Guero is a nickname Mexicans give light-haired people. The funny thing is he’s the gringo family cook who sits with his Mexican mother-in-law, an amazing abuela cocinera nicknamed Gollita. One of our most popular recipes on the site right now is his: Gollita’s porkchops with tomatoes and onions, which are unlike any porkchops I’ve had before. They are tangy, textured and so easy! My husband and son said they are the best chops they have ever had, and now I make them on the regular.

What do you love about “abuela cooking,” as you call it?

Grandmother cooking — it’s the best. Here’s why: It’s trusted. It’s been honed over decades to its most simple and delicious version. It’s fast, because abuelas know how to get dinner on the table quickly. And it’s authentic, because it comes from their heart and their homeland soil.

Tacos could be one of the most versatile of dishes, with a potentially infinite amount of variations — almost always tasty.

What ingredients are essential for a Latinx home chef?

For all Latinx cuisines? I’d have to say rice, of course, as well as garlic — which means we all need a good garlic press to squeeze every liquidy last bit from each clove. 

If Wally sees a cubano on the menu, there’s no turning back.

What’s something most people don’t know about Latinx cuisine?

How complex and sophisticated each country’s dishes are. They’re not as spicy as people think. And how wide the range of cuisine is. Peruvian is as different from Mexican cuisine as German is from Italian food.

Wally has already whipped up a huge batch of Doña Felipa’s sofrita — and is experimenting by putting it on pretty much everything he can think of.

Tell us about Doña Felipa, your neighborhood “abuela.”

One day I heard someone speaking Spanish while watering her back garden, which is literally next to my house in Chicago. I could tell from the woman’s accent she was from Puerto Rico. What are the chances? I waited for her to finish her phone call, introduced myself, and we immediately started talking. 

Doña Felipa, who is 83, and I discovered we both love cooking, and that cemented our friendship. She and I spend a lot of time at her kitchen counter, while she chops and teaches me how she makes our island’s most traditional dishes. Even now we do that, wearing masks.

Doña Felipa loves to tell stories of growing up on the western side of the island and raising her kids in Chicago. She spoils us with Puerto Rican food packages all the time. Last month, she brought over a little statue of El Niño Divino, the divine child Jesus, to watch over our health and house. She blessed me right there on the street in front of our house, on busy Diversey. Total abuela thing to do.

Everyone should live next to a Puerto Rican abuela. 

Or the next closest thing: Cook like one. #abuelacooking

9 Fascinating Frida Kahlo Facts That May Surprise You

Overshadowed by her husband Diego Rivera, Kahlo led a too-short life fraught with pain, which she channeled into her powerful paintings.

A portrait of the unusual artist in 1939 by Nickolas Muray

It seems every famous artist is eccentric in their own way, and Frida Kahlo was no exception. She didn’t follow the rules, establishing herself as the negation of what a woman was expected to be. Her singular vision continues to inspire and capture the world’s imagination. Kahlo’s recognizable unibrow, boldly colored clothes and tempestuous marriage to muralist Diego Rivera are as central to her fame as her vivid and powerful self-portraits.

“During the horrific accident, a shower of gold glitter landed on Frida’s bloody and broken body — making the macabre moment like something out of a magical realism novel.

”

While writing my post on the Blue House, or La Casa Azul, Kahlo’s former home, I learned more than a few surprising things. Why nine, you might ask? During their lifetimes, Kahlo and Rivera passionately assembled a collection of fantastical papier-mâché alebrijes, and I’d like to imagine hers as a cat with its metaphorical nine lives. So, without further exposition, here are nine interesting facts you might not have known about Frida Kahlo.

Talk about odd couples! Here’s Wedding Portrait of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera by Victor Reyes, 1929

1. She and Diego proved that opposites really do attract.

Kahlo first met Rivera when he was commissioned by the government to paint the mural La Creación at the Bolívar Auditorium of the Escuela Nacional Preparatoria in 1922. Kahlo was one of only 35 females in a student body of 2,000 and belonged to a group of young intellectuals who called themselves Las Cachuchas, named after the peaked cloth caps they wore as a sign of subversion against the rigid dress code of the period. One account claims that she mischievously soaped the stairs leading to the auditorium where Rivera was working, hoping to make him slip and fall.

They met again in 1928 while he was working on a fresco for Mexico City’s Ministry of Education building. With paintings tucked under her arm, she demanded Rivera critique her work, telling him, “I have not come to you looking for compliments. I want the criticism of a serious man. I’m neither an art lover nor an amateur. I’m simply a girl who must work for her living.”

It was a May-December romance, as Rivera was about twice her age (as well as 200 pounds heavier). She was 22, he was 43. He had been married twice before. Kahlo once said, “I suffered two grave accidents in my life: one in which a streetcar knocked me down, and the other was Diego.”  

Frida paints Portrait of My Father, 1952, in her studio. Photo by Gisèle Freund

2. A horrific — but strangely beautiful — accident changed the course of her life.

In 1925, an 18-year-old Kahlo was riding a bus home from school with her boyfriend Alex Gómez Arias when it collided with an oncoming electric streetcar. A fellow passenger on the bus had been carrying a bag of gold dust, which was released upon impact and tore, a shower of gold glitter landing on the bloody and broken body of Kahlo — making the macabre moment like something out of a magical realism novel.

When onlookers saw her, they cried, “La bailarina, la bailarina!” mistaking her for a dancer.

The bed-ridden Frida Kahlo painting Portrait of My Family in 1950. Photo by Juan Guzmán

The near-fatal accident left Kahlo bedridden for months and enduring lifelong complications that would fuel her intensely personal artwork, turning her deepest feelings and darkest moments into art.

What a deer! Frida With Granzino, Version 2 by Nickolas Muray, 1939

3. Kahlo wasn’t able to have children, so she filled the void with exotic pets.

Kahlo was a great lover of animals and had an exotic menagerie at La Casa Azul. In many of her self-portraits she is accompanied by her favorite animals, including a pair of mischievous spider monkeys named Fulang Chung and Caimito de Guayabal. She also had Bonito, an Amazon parrot, who would perform tricks at the table for rewards of pats of butter, an eagle named Gertrudis Caca Blanca (Gertrude White Shit), hairless Xoloitzcuintli dogs and a fawn called Granzino.

These animals appeared in her work, including Self-Portrait With Monkey and The Wounded Deer, her face placed atop a deer’s body, probably Granzino’s, complete with antlers, running through a forest as nine arrows pierce its body.

Frida’s love of animals is evident in her Self-Portrait With Small Monkey from 1945

Despite wanting to have offspring, Kahlo was unable to bear children and suffered miscarriages and medical abortions. Her inability to give birth became a source of trauma, and she said that her pets symbolized the children she never could have.

Many of Frida’s paintings were self-portraits, like Autorretrato from 1948

4. She’d most likely beat you in a staring contest.

Kahlo was her own most popular muse. Fifty-five of her 143 paintings are self-portraits, which is perhaps understandable when thinking about how much time she spent on her own while coping with a variety of chronic health issues. Her conjoined brows, plaited hair and watchful eyes fiercely demand that the viewer meet her gaze. And her defiant, upright posture was as much due to the immobilizing plaster corsets she was forced to wear to support her spinal column as it was her confidence.

Kahlo’s use of the intimate self-portrait often reflected her turbulent life and was a visual means to communicate her physical and psychological wounds.

Let’s take some time to reflect upon what an amazing woman Frida Kahlo was. Photo by Lola Álvarez Bravo

5. She was her own brand ambassador.

Our sense of self is largely dependent on where we were born, where our family’s from and the people we choose to surround ourselves with. This was especially true for Kahlo with her distinctive sartorial style inspired by the traditional dress of the Tehuana, the independent and proud indigenous matriarchal Zapotec society in the state of Oaxaca. Kahlo’s mother was born in Oaxaca to an indigenous father and a mother of Spanish descent.

Her attire helped her craft an imaginative, colorful identity and typically included flamboyant rings adorning her fingers, a traditional square-cut blouse, the huipil, and a long wrap-around skirt, which allowed her to mask and distract from her physical injuries.

One can only imagine the sensation of Kahlo’s striking and exotic appearance when she arrived in the United States with Rivera. Her rejection of conventional fashion was unlike anything the people of San Francisco, Detroit or New York had ever seen. On a walk in NYC, a flock of children asked Kahlo, “Where’s the circus?” but she simply smiled graciously and continued walking.

The controversial The Suicide of Dorothy Hale by Frida Kahlo, 1939

6. She pushed boundaries and buttons.

Sometime in 1938, Kahlo was commissioned by Clare Boothe Luce, the writer of the all-female Broadway play The Women and a former managing editor of Vanity Fair magazine, to paint a recuerdo, a remembrance portrait of their mutual New York socialite friend and aspiring actress Dorothy Hale, who had recently taken her own life.

Luce presumed Kahlo would paint a conventional portrait of Hale. However, Kahlo wasn’t a fan of what she considered to be the bourgeois capitalist social scene of New York City and had a more cerebral vision in mind — to create a graphic retablo detailing Hale’s moment of death.

In the center of the painting, the building where Hale lived is depicted with its many small windows rising up behind a layer of feathery clouds. A tiny figure plummets from an upper window. In the middle ground is a larger falling figure, clearly Hale, her arms extended and her skirt billowing around her knees. Resting on the pavement in the foreground is the deceased Hale in the black velvet dress and yellow corsage she wore, her dead eyes frozen open and staring at the viewer. As if that wasn’t enough, the inscription literally bleeds into the bottom of the frame and reads, “In the city of New York on the 21st day of the month of October, 1938, at 6 o’clock in the morning, Mrs. Dorothy Hale committed suicide by throwing herself out of a very high window of the Hampshire House building. In her memory, this portrait was executed by Frida Kahlo.”

When Luce received the painting, she seriously considered destroying it, but was persuaded by friends to desist. The arresting and controversial work remained in storage for decades before being donated “anonymously” to the Phoenix Art Museum in 1960.

7. She arrived at her first solo exhibition in Mexico in an ambulance.

Kahlo’s first major solo exhibition was held at the Julien Levy Gallery in 1938 in New York City, and one year later, her works were part of a collective exhibition entitled Mexique, shown at the Galerie Renou et Colle in Paris. The French surrealist André Breton described her art as “a ribbon around a bomb.”

Due to declining health during her final years, Kahlo rarely ventured outside of the Blue House, and had to use a wheelchair and crutches to get around. In April 1953, her first solo exhibition in Mexico opened at the Galería de Arte Contemporáneo. At the time, Kahlo was on bed rest under doctor’s orders and not expected to attend. However, she made sure to be there, arriving by ambulance to a mystified crowd, ordering that her four-poster bed be moved into the gallery. She was brought in on a stretcher to the bed, where she was able to enjoy the event.

8. She made a most memorable exit from life.

Kahlo was transported to the crematorium at the Panteón Civil de Dolores, and her body was lifted out of the coffin and laid in a cart that would carry her along iron tracks to the cemetery. So desperate were people to have a memento of Kahlo that onlookers pulled at the rings on her fingers even as her body moved toward the crematorium fire. Witnesses who were in the small chamber containing the furnace claimed that a sudden blast of heat from the open incinerator doors caused Kahlo’s corpse to sit bolt upright, and when the flames ignited her hair, forming an aura around her face, her lips appeared to part in a grin just before the doors closed shut.

What the Water Gave Me by Frida Kahlo, 1938

9. She was underappreciated as an artist in her lifetime.

Kahlo’s work was largely overshadowed by that of her husband during her lifetime. This was partly because the complexity of her art was difficult for an international audience to categorize. Kahlo’s most famous works, her autorretratos, or self-portraits, combine elements of realism, surrealism and indigenous Mexican symbolism.

Breton, an original member of the Dada group and the founder of the Surrealist movement in 1924, visited Kahlo in Mexico in 1938 while she was working on Lo Que el Agua Me Dio (What the Water Gave Me). Breton was transfixed by it, calling Kahlo a “natural surrealist.” Kahlo rejected the label and replied, “I never painted dreams. I paint my own reality.”

When Kahlo died at the early age of 47 in 1954, Rivera begged his friend and patroness of the arts, Dolores Olmedo to purchase 25 of Kahlo’s paintings for a mere $1,600. He wanted to make sure that an important part of his wife’s work remained in Mexico. –Duke

“A sudden blast of heat from the incinerator caused Frida’s corpse to sit bolt upright. Flames ignited her hair, forming an aura around her face, and her lips parted into a grin just before the doors closed shut. ”

10 Most Instagrammable Places in Mexico City's Centro

A photographer’s tour of the CDMX historic district, from the Palacio de Bellas Artes to the Gran Hotel Ciudad de México.

CDMX, as the cool kids call it, is full of stunning design, a mind-blowing mix of colonial architecture and modern marvels. Here are some of our favorites to help you get started on a cultural and Insta-worthy tour of the city’s historic heart.

Centro Histórico

A chandelier hangs above the holy ark

The second and third floors of the Sinagoga Histórica have some beautiful elements

Look up to see the folk art-styled ceiling, with its gorgeous color pallette

1. Sinagoga Histórica Justo Sierra 71

Start your tour with this hidden gem, built and established by the Ashkenazi, Eastern European Jews who arrived in Mexico City as refugees escaping persecution in the early 1940s. The Historic Synagogue, or Templo Nidje Israel, is entered through an interior courtyard beyond the building’s colonial façade (and a somewhat grumpy guard).

The interior contains a rather plain assembly hall on the first floor, but the sanctuary located on the second floor is impressive, said to be modeled after a synagogue in Lithuania. Make sure to look up at the vaulted clerestory ceiling intricately painted in hues of rust, mustard yellow, blue and green. An elaborately carved platform stands in the center of the room and faces the richly ornamented aron kodesh, or holy ark, surrounded by folk art elements typical of Eastern European villages. The sacred Torah scrolls were once kept behind the blue velvet curtain panel embroidered with silver thread.

Justo Sierra 71

What seemed to be a bizarre fantasy video game ad was playing in the courtyard while we visited

Open archways line the corridors of the ex-college

You’ll spot murals all over the Antiguo Colegio de San Ildefonso

2. Antiguo Colegio de San Ildefonso

A block or so down from the synagogue is a former Jesuit boarding school that has since been transformed into a museum and cultural center. After the Jesuits were expelled from the city, the building temporarily served as barracks for the Mexican army before becoming the National Preparatory School. The site is considered to be the birthplace of the Mexican muralism movement and features murals painted by David Alfaro, José Clemente Orozco (Wally’s personal fave) and Diego Rivera.

Justo Sierra 16

La Casa de las Sirenas is located within one of the first colonial mansions in Mexico City

Our al fresco meal was delicious

Grab a bite on the rooftop terrace, which overlooks the back of the cathedral

3. La Casa de las Sirenas

The frieze on the façade of this former 17th century colonial abode features a Caravaca cross flanked by a pair of mermaids, which gives the restaurant its name, the House of the Mermaids.

We ate a delicious lunch on the rooftop terrace with a spectacular view overlooking the extremely disappointing Templo Mayor and the back of the impressive Catedral Metropolitana, while an organ grinder played a whimsical tune over and over from the street below.

República de Guatemala 32

The Metropolitan Cathedral organ

This over-the-top golden altar is just one of many inside the massive cathedral

Saints galore in various niches in this Baroque church — note the highly realistic detail on his hand

4. Mexico City Metropolitan Cathedral

This massive Baroque-style cathedral dominating the northern side of the Zócalo plaza was built in stages between 1573 to 1873, shortly after Hernán Cortés and his conquistadors defeated the Aztec Empire. Among the oldest and largest cathedrals in the Americas, much of it was built using stones pilfered from the Templo Mayor. (Maybe that’s why the temple’s ruins are so unimpressive.) Step inside to see the large, ornate Altar of the Kings, collection of paintings, pipe organ and statuary.

Plaza de la Constitución s/n

Pop into the lobby of the Gran Hotel to marvel at the stained glass ceiling and ironwork

The curving balconies and organic grillwork on the cage elevators make this Art Nouveau gem worth a shot or two

5. Gran Hotel Ciudad de México

After binge-watching the Spanish soap series Gran Hotel on Netflix, we had to go inside this historic Art Nouveau gem of the same name. It was originally the city’s most luxurious department store, known as el Centro Mercanti — in fact, you can still see the monogram “CM” in the stained-glass ceiling designed by French glass artist Jacques Grüber as well as the railings. Fun fact: The interior is featured in the opening scenes of the James Bond film Spectre.

16 de Septiembre 82

This building is known colloquially as the House of Tiles

This distinctive tiled building is now a Sanborns department store

6. Casa de los Azulejos

Meaning “the House of Tiles” in Spanish, the exterior of this 16th century building is embellished with tin-glazed ceramic tilework known as azulejos, from Puebla, Mexico. The property was originally the residence of the Valle de Orizaba counts, one of the wealthiest families in the country. It was purchased by brothers Walter and Frank Sanborn in 1919 and converted into the flagship location of Sanborns, a Mexican department store and restaurant chain.

Av Francisco I. Madero 4

Since you’re in the area, you should pop into the Palacio Postal just to check out the amazing staircase

Things are looking up at the Postal Palace

7. Palacio Postal

Also known as the Correo Mayor, the Postal Palace was built by Italian architect Adamo Boari and Mexican engineer Gonzalo Garita and has been in continuous operation since it first opened in 1907. The interior was restored to its original gilded splendor with the help of Boari’s granddaughter, who had the original building plans in Italy. The money shot is of a pair of grand interconnecting staircases embellished with vegetal brass balustrades that almost appear to be alive. My only regret is that we weren’t able to send a postcard home while there.

C. Tacuba 1, Cuauhtémoc

To get this money shot, you have to go into the Sears department store across the street

8. Palacio de Bellas Artes

We didn’t get to go inside on this visit. But the secret to an amazing aerial shot is to head over to the Sears department store directly across the street. (If you don’t want to have a snack or drink on the balcony café, just go up one more floor and press your camera against the glass as we did.)

Designed by the same architect as the Palacio Postal, the building’s gorgeously photogenic Art Nouveau exterior is topped by a lattice of iron and a shimmering iridescent ombre-tiled dome. At the very top, the Mexican eagle perches on a cactus with a serpent in its beak, with the four figures beneath representing the personifications of the dramatic arts.  

The plaza includes various sculptures, including four Pegasus statues designed by Catalan Agustí Querol Subirats, as well as the famous Mexico City Olympics logo — way too popular with tourists to get a good picture of.

Av. Juárez

The Hemiciclo a Benito Juárez monument

A large green space sits right next to the plaza of the Palacio de Bellas Artes

9. Alameda Central

This leafy park was created in 1525 on what was previously the site of an Aztec marketplace. Its name comes from the word alámo, Spanish for poplar tree — which can be found in abundance throughout the park. You’ll encounter children playing in empty fountain basins and locals of all ages meandering or sitting on benches along the many paths. The Kiosco Morisco was located there briefly and used as a pavilion to announce lottery winners before being moved to make way for the semicircular Neoclassical Hemiciclo a Benito Juárez monument, dedicated to the former Mexican president.

Av. Hidalgo s/n

This fountain is right across from Alameda Central and is worth a quick visit to get the Insta shot

Governmental buildings and the Museum of Memory and Tolerance surround the fountain

País de Volcanes (Country of Volcanoes) by Ricardo Legorreta

10. Fuente de Vicente Rojo

Across from Alameda Park, tucked into the courtyard of the Museo Memoria y Tolerancia surrounded by governmental offices is a fountain designed by Mexican visual artist Vicente Rojo and architect Ricardo Legorreta. Titled País de Volcanes (Country of Volcanoes), it features more than 1,000 small burnt red concrete pyramids emerging from a sunken reflecting pool, a reference to the coarse volcanic tezontle stone widely used by the Aztecs. –Duke

Av. Juárez 44

The Fantastical Woodcut Illustrations of Pau Masiques

A Q&A with the Monterrey, Mexico-based artist, who designs everything from children’s books, comics, posters and chocolate wrappers.

Bubble by Pau Masiques

The Ignacia Guest House is filled with wonderful art, objects and books on architecture. After Wally and I were given a tour, I walked up to one of the framed woodcuts with a depiction of the former beloved housekeeper Ignacia, for whom the boutique hotel is named, to jot down the artist’s name, which was signed in graphite in the lower right corner: Pau Masiques.

We loved how he captured the essence of this well-loved woman at two stages of her life. So I decided to reach out to Masiques to learn more about his process and inspirations.

“Drawing is like being involved in a great debate in which your work participates in a shared dialogue with that of other creators. ”

— Pau Masiques

Blindada

Masiques combines technology with tradition, transforming woodblocks into mesmerizing artwork. Whether it’s a woman wearing a city as a crown, her head encircled by an endless line of cars emitting fumes, or a squatting Hercules wearing the hide of the Nemean lion, with Medusa and Minotaur perched upon the bent barbell gripped between his teeth, Masiques pulls us into the illustration and the story it tells. His works evoke the warped whimsy of fairy tales and folklore, so of course we were drawn to him. –Duke

Hèrcules

You created custom artwork for the Ignacia Guest House. Did the owners approach you, and how did you come up with the concept?

I heard about the commission from a friend and found it to be a very appealing proposal.

Recibí el encargo por parte de un amigo, me habló del proyecto y me pareció muy atractiva la propuesta.

When did you realize you were artistically inclined?

I’ve always liked to draw. I don’t remember exactly when this began, but I guess it was when I was very young, like all children — at that age we all have the creative potential to become artists.

Something that’s been with me from an early age is my love of comics. I think that’s what fueled my interest in drawing, in literature and a general curiosity about the world around me.

Siempre me ha gustado dibujar, no recuerdo cuando empecé, supongo que muy temprano como todos los niños, a esa edad todos tenemos un gran potencial como artistas plásticos.

Lo que me ha acompañado siempre, desde muy pequeño, es mi afición a leer cómics y eso creo que fue lo que alimentó mi interés por el dibujo, por la literatura y la curiosidad en general por el mundo que me rodea.

La sel·lecció natural campiona mundial

How did your career as an illustrator begin?

I took some comic and drawing courses during my childhood and early adolescence, but I wasn’t a very disciplined student at the time. Without putting in effort, your talent doesn't improve.

It wasn’t until later, while pursuing an illustration degree at the Escola Massana in Barcelona that the idea of becoming a professional illustrator occured to me. My connection to my professors, who had rich, creative careers in illustration, excited me and encouraged my dedication to that profession.

En mi niñez y adolescencia tomé algunos cursos de dibujo y cómic pero no era un alumno muy disciplinado en aquel momento, y sin esfuerzo las cosas no salen.

No fue hasta que empecé más tarde en la especialidad de ilustración de la Escola Massana de Barcelona que la idea de dedicarme profesionalmente a la ilustración me pareció posible. El contacto con maestros que tenían una rica vida profesional me animó y estimuló a dedicarme a la ilustración.

Ánimas

Tell us about your process. What materials and tools do you use?

I always carry a couple of notebooks with me. I use them to collect my ideas, whatever they may be: ideas that arise from an ephemeral need of their own or those of a commision. These sketches are the foundation, which I continue to elaborate using digital image processing software. Even when they’re made into a woodcut, the image I’m going to carve into the wood has been refined and retouched using a computer. The end result is closer to what I have on screen. However, there are elements that are impossible to reproduce using this technology that engraving offers. There’s a special vibration in the stroke and line when using a hand tool. Accidents that are the result of chance, which only occur by working directly with the materials, bring much more depth and strength to the end result.

Suelo llevar siempre conmigo un par de cuadernos, los uso para verter ahí mis ideas, sean cuales sean: ideas que surgen a partir de una necesidad expresiva propia o las de un encargo profesional. Esos bocetos son el origen, luego sigo elaborando mucho más el dibujo usando un software de tratamiento de imágenes. Incluso cuando realizo una xilografía, la imagen que voy a tallar en la madera la he revisado y retocado en la computadora, así me aseguro que el resultado final es más próximo al que tengo en pantalla, en el aspecto compositivo sobretodo, sin embargo hay cosas imposibles de reproducir con los medios que ofrece la computadora y que sí ofrece el grabado, hay una especial vibración en el trazo y unos accidentes fruto del azar, que solo trabajando directamente en la materia surgen y que aporta mucha más riqueza y fuerza al resultado final.

Woodcut illustrations influenced by lotería cards

What are your influences? What inspires you?

The woodcuts of Frans Masereel, the work of José-Guadalupe Posada, Manuel Manilla and engravings in general are my most immediate references. The early works of Joan Miró — the painting The Farm for example — means a lot to me because of its closeness to my life. In that image, he represented a world very familiar to me.

I admire any form of expression, however rough, that seems to have a compelling narrative. I’m interested in so-called outsider art, such as the work of Bill Traylor. Through his ingenuity, he was able to reveal his world to us and describe it with enormous beauty and simplicity.

I’m interested in many artists, but perhaps what inspires me most is simplicity and expression, rather than technical skill. For example, while doing research for a recent project, I discovered the work of Jessie Oonark, a brilliant Inuit artist. At the moment, her work is a source of inspiration for me.

Drawing is like being involved in a great debate in which your work participates in a shared dialogue with that of other creators.

Las xilografías de Frans Masereel, la obra de Posadas, la de Manilla y el grabado popular en general son quizá mis referentes más inmediatos. La primera etapa de la obra de Joan Miró también, la pintura La Masía por ejemplo, me conmueve mucho por su cercanía, por representar y condensar en esa imagen un mundo que me es muy familiar.

Admiro cualquier forma de expresión que por tosca que parezca tenga una especial pulsión narrativa, me interesa mucho también el llamado arte “marginal”, como por ejemplo la obra de Bill Traylor, que con su aparente ingenuidad es capaz de desvelarnos su mundo y describirlo con enorme belleza y sencillez.

Me interesan muchísimos artistas, lo que más me inspira es quizá la simplicidad y la fuerza expresiva, más que un supuesto virtuosismo. Hace poco por ejemplo, descubrí a partir de la búsqueda de documentación para un trabajo, la obra de Jessie Oonark, una genial artista inuit, en estos momentos su trabajo es para mi una fuente de inspiración.

Dibujar es como estar metido en un gran debate, en el que tu trabajo dialoga con el de otros creadores.

A page from a comic about black musicians who have died under mysterious circumstances

Do you listen to music when you work?

I usually combine moments of silence with listening to music or radio programs, depending on the degree of concentration needed at that moment.

Suelo combinar momentos de silencio, con otros de música y de escucha de programas de radio. Depende del grado de concentración que necesite en cada momento.

Masiques’ whimsical work has appeared on a line of chocolate bars

Is there a favorite project you’ve worked on?

In general, I’m pretty excited about each commission I receive. I’ve illustrated wrappers for chocolate bars, books, press articles, and posters for concerts and theater workshops. I’ve collaborated in fanzines and I’ve also done solo exhibits of my engravings and sculptures. My favorite thing might be sculpture. It’s something I haven’t done in awhile. I’d say that wood carving and constructing objects are a couple of my favorite practices. I don’t do them as often as I would like — maybe that’s why I choose them as a favorite.

En general suelo ilusionarme con casi todos los encargos que recibo. He ilustrado envolturas para chocolates, libros, artículos de prensa, he realizado posters para conciertos y talleres de teatro, he colaborado en fanzines, también he exhibido mis grabados y esculturas en algunas exposiciones, pero quizá una de mis prácticas favoritas es la de la escultura, y es algo que hace mucho que no hago, podría decir que tallar madera y construir objetos es una de mis prácticas favoritas, y que no realizó tan a menudo como quisiera, quizá por eso la escojo como favorita.

What’s one of your favorite places in Mexico City?

I’ve lived in the north part of the country, in Monterrey, Nuevo León, for about nine years, but I love going to Mexico City, and there are many places that I like. But one place I don’t mind returning to again and again is the National Museum of Anthropology.

Vivo en el norte del país, en Monterrey (Nuevo León) desde hace cerca de nueve años, pero me encanta ir a la Ciudad de México y hay muchos lugares que me gustan, pero un lugar emblemático al que no me importa regresar una y otra vez es el Museo Nacional de Antropología.

Bowie: One of the Best Restaurants in Mexico City

Chef Rodrigo Carrasco works his magic with a delicious smoke-themed menu at our favorite CDMX dinner spot.

The chic interior, fun playlists and attentive service helped make Bowie our best dining experience in CDMX.

Instead of a Thanksgiving dinner of turkey, stuffing, cranberry sauce and mashed potatoes, Wally and I decided to take a trip to Mexico City. If we were going to miss the traditional American meal, we wanted something equally delicious. So we took the suggestion of Magda, a manager at the Ignacia Guest House, where we were staying, and decided upon Bowie.

The restaurant is a stone's throw from Avenida Álvaro Obregón, the main thoroughfare in the hip Roma Norte neighborhood. Named after the memorable performer, Bowie is the creation of Mexican chef Rodrigo Carrasco.

“Bowie straddles the line between restaurant and theater.

The dish arrived under a glass dome, concealed by a miniature cloud that hung motionless before vanishing in a wisp of woodsmoke.”

This distinctive dining establishment is modern and fashionable, but not pretentious, and is devoted to using smoke as the foundation of all of its dishes — in fact, the words “Cocina de Humo” illuminate one of the walls. And you can’t miss the fantastic, custom-created portrait of David Bowie as Ziggy Stardust made entirely from bottle caps.

Almost all of the dishes are smoked — but not overwhelmingly so.

The restaurant was already buzzing when we arrived, around 8ish. Diners can choose to order à la carte from the menu, but we decided to try the seven-course tasting menu and drink pairing. The first course of beet carpaccio arrived under a glass dome, concealed by a miniature cloud. It hung motionless in the air for a moment before vanishing in a wisp of woodsmoke once our server removed the lid with flair.

The visual appeal was matched by the deliciousness of the dish. The delicately flavored beets were topped with savory goat cheese offset by a surprising hit of brightly tart lemon dressing. A single bite — and boom! We had fallen in love with Bowie. We had never tasted anything like this, and it was just the beginning.

The dramatic reveal of the beet appetizer. Photo by Jordana Btp

Our first couple of courses were paired with an artisanal Mexican IPA. We don’t typically like American IPAs as they’re too hoppy, but this one tasted like a farmhouse ale — more our speed.

The following courses were served with Blanc de Pacs, an organic white wine from Penedès, Spain, and Bolero, a Mexican red blend from Valle de San Vicente in Baja California Sur.

Beyond the bar, you can peek into the kitchen at Bowie.

Bowie straddles the line between restaurant and theater, and it quickly became clear that we were about to embark on a culinary adventure.

The pulpo came on an adorable tiny grill.

The truffled steak tartare was served in a vessel reminiscent of a glass mushroom. Filled with bite-size chunks of red meat and portobello mushrooms, it was like eating your way through an ethereal terrarium.

Another standout was the slow-cooked short ribs with a smoked pumpkin purée, dressed with a whiskey reduction sauce. It was smoky and sweet, and immensely satisfying.

The dessert, a riff on s’mores, arrived near the end of the tasting menu. Served it a small cast iron skillet, it was utterly delicious and topped with housemade marshmallows, layered with bananas, chocolate and a shortbread crust, toasted by our server with a handheld butane torch.

Duke and Wally absolutely loved their experience at Bowie.

In short, this incredible meal set a high bar and made us feel like kids again — though our adult palettes delighted in the impressive sophistication of the dishes as well. A meal at Bowie is an experience we would be happy to have any day. –Duke

NOTE: We heard that, sadly, Bowie has permanently closed.

Grab a bite at Bowie — especially if you’re in the Roma neighborhood of Mexico City.

Bowie
Córdoba 113
Roma Norte
06700 Ciudad de México
CDMX, Mexico

Biblioteca Vasconcelos: A Futuristic Architectural Marvel

Architect Alberto Kalach’s amazing library in Mexico City contains bookshelves that hang from the ceiling, and a whale bone sculpture by artist Gabriel Orozco.

Off-the-beaten-path CDMX: la Biblioteca Vasconcelos

After a visit to the labyrinthine and often-claustrophobic Mercado de Sonora Witch’s Market, Duke and I took a short Uber ride to the Biblioteca Vasconcelos in the Colonia Buenavista neighborhood. Dedicated to José Vasconcelos, a Mexican writer, philosopher and politician, the library’s interior is unlike anything you’ve ever seen.

“Story after story of metal and glass bookcases defy logic, floating above like a science fiction version of Hogwarts. ”

Wally and Duke in ecstasy: Who needs to go to church when you’ve got a library like this?

The interior is like stepping into an M.C. Escher drawing

Don’t Judge a Book by Its Cover

From the building’s exterior — a fortress of concrete and steel grillwork — you’d never imagine the airy futuristic interior within. However, getting into the hallowed repository of knowledge was a bit tricky. Initially, Duke and I saw the gaping maw of the parking garage and wondered if we had to enter there. We skirted around to the right of the building in an attempt to gain access. When we realized there wasn’t an entrance there either, we paused to ask a local who was walking his dog. He gestured to the left side of the library. We thanked him and made our way over to a courtyard with a couple of smaller buildings and the main entrance.

The exterior of the library isn’t too impressive — but just wait till you step inside!

When we first stepped foot inside the 400,000-square-foot Biblioteca Vasconcelos, designed by Mexican architect Alberto Kalach, we could barely contain our giddiness. We looked around in wonder, our necks craning in every direction.

The floating stacks are a novel way, pun intended, to display books

Story after story of metal and glass bookcases defy logic, while simultaneously offering a sense of complete order, floating above like a science fiction version of Hogwarts. Thin steel beams seem barely able to support the monumental stacks filled with books. Hazy silhouettes of patrons can be glimpsed through translucent sea-green catwalks.

Greenish-blue semitranslucent walkways connect the stacks

Seating areas seen from across the expanse

We felt as though we had entered a sacred space, one that evoked the same reverence of the organic space-age architecture of La Sagrada Família church in Barcelona, Spain.

The exhibit Vientos de Japón (Winds of Japan) by master calligrapher Ryuho Hamano was on display when we visited

Duke daring to lean against the thin wire railing

Wally chose a more secure spot for his portrait

Sunlight plays a major role at the Biblioteca Vasconcelos, filling the interior with natural light. Ingenious louvered glass panels soften the sun's rays and keep the library from getting too hot.

The far ends of the library offer expansive views of the city

As we passed by the first floor patios, we saw teens practicing dance routines, mimicking the choreography seen in some pop star’s latest music video. Beyond them, we could see the sprawling botanic garden that surrounds the structure. During our stay in Mexico City, we saw chilangos of all ages, from teens to seniors, dancing in public spaces.

A botanic park surrounds the structure

Whenever I got too close to the cable rails on the upper floors of the library, my head would spin with vertigo. It became clear that this was a library for the brave. God forbid I needed a book located at the end of one of these stacks.

Looking down at Gabriel Orozco’s hanging sculpture, Mobile Matrix

A Whale of a Time: Orozco’s Mobile Matrix

Hovering above the central atrium hall is the striking Mátrix Móvil (Mobile Matrix in English), an intricately inscribed gray whale skeleton fitted onto a metal armature. Conceptual artist Gabriel Orozco and his team used over 6,000 mechanical pencils to etch concentric circles onto the bones, which stretch over 38 feet long. I learned that the whale had died after beaching itself on the Baja Peninsula during a migratory trip along the Mexican Pacific coast. The art piece adds a museum-like quality to the space.

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

View fullsize

A peek at the whale bone sculpture

There’s a lot to see in Mexico City, but the Biblioteca Vasconcelos is worth adding to your itinerary. It’s quite close to CDMX’s historic Centro. And when you’re done exploring this modern marvel (and have taken copious amounts of photos), head past the Buenavista rail and bus station and cross the overpass that spans the bustling Avenida Insurgentes. A 10-minute walk straight down Calle Salvador Díaz Mirón will bring you to the colorful Kiosco Morisco in the nearby Santa María la Ribera neighborhood. –Wally

A forest of paper cylinders with Japanese kana characters on display at the entrance

Duke poses in front of the art exhibit

There are elevators for those who don’t want to walk up all those stairs

One of the rooms along the sides of the library was filled with women knitting a cool cactus

Peek-a-boo! Duke looks through one of the stacks near the edge of the railing

Biblioteca Vasconcelos

Mosqueta
Eje 1 Norte S/N
Buenavista
06350 Ciudad de México
CDMX, México