Coyoacán is known for its many coffee shops and the hippie intellectualism that supposedly lurks there. Indeed, if there is a place in Mexico City where you are most likely to see a young person hunched over a battered copy of Las Venas Abiertas de America Latina or arguing with a group of dreadlocked friends about whether the PRD can ever truly be a radical party, it is probably in one of the dozens of coffee shops within a few blocks from the Plaza Hidalgo.

One of the most popular coffee venues is El Jarocho, which has several locations clustered in the center of Coyoacán. Although it’s hardly an undiscoverd gem, El Jarocho has become a favorite of mine, not so much for the coffee they serve (which is quite good), but for their frozen chocolate. This treat, which comes served in a styrofoam cup, captures the essence of chocolate caliente, complete with tiny flecks of cinnamon floating around, but in a form that is a cross between a milkshake and a cup of nieve.

Their coffee is strong and good; it has a bit of a following. Although there is no indoor seating at their location on the corner of Allende and Cuauhtémoc, it’s not uncommon to see lines stretching down the block, waiting to order at the counter. Other locations are a bit more relaxed, with benches and plastic chairs partially blocking the foot traffic on less-busy streets.

I have taken to heading to El Jarocho after having tortas at La Barraca Valenciana; there is a location right next door, on Avenida Mexico between Malintzin and Xicotencatl. I always go for the chocolate frío, but there are other frozen drinks, a surprisingly large selection of caffeinated and decaffeinated teas, as well as rich-smelling cups of Veracruz-style espresso drinks. The pan dulce is nothing to write home about, but as a vehicle for the coffee, you could do a lot worse. They also sell coffee to brew at home.

El Jarocho; www.cafeeljarocho.com.mx/; locations throughout Coyoacán

I find that the architecture, signage, and fashion of the Centro Historico act almost like an erratic time machine, leaping decades and even centuries from block to block, or even storefront to storefront. El Moro is firmly lodged in the mid-twentieth century, with cafeteria style tables, beautiful tiled walls and columns, and smartly-uniformed waitresses.

The menu inside El Moro is simple enough: churros and four different types of chocolate (hot chocolate). Although I encourage enough visits to determine your own favorite, I enjoy the chocolate frances because it is slightly less sweet than the other choices. If by chance the mild temperatures in Mexico City should creep up to the point where hot chocolate is not applealing, El Moro also offers milkshakes served in classic, soda fountain glasses, as well as your usual bottled refrescos.

Do not expect anything complicated–there are no stuffed churros here. The churros are as they should be, crispy on the outside, soft on the inside. Most importantly, they are fried up moments before they are brought to your table, so each batch comes out slightly different from the last. You are welcome to watch the process as the churros are being made in a large vat of oil just to your right as you walk in.

For those without a sweet tooth, during the day there are street vendors set up in front selling tacos and tortas, which, perhaps because of their partnership with El Moro, are better than your standard street fare. You are welcome to bring your tray inside as long as you or someone in your group is also purchasing something in house.

El Moro is open 24 hours, making it an excellent place to attempt to prevent a hangover. There is nothing explicitly macha about El Moro–although I’ve always felt comfortable with lesbian P.D.A. there–it’s just a place not to miss on any trip to Mexico City. A paquete of churros and chocolate will run you just under 50 pesos.