In any case, some lesbian friends of mine accidentally introduced me to a great little café in Coyoacán that caters to those with specialized food needs. Formerly known as Basanti, Café-Patisserie “Ruta de la Seda” (“silk route”) opened in the spring of 2008 and claims to offer “organic flavors of the world.” While that might be a bit of a stretch (since only two or three continents were represented–one in the form of a plate of house-made samosas and accompanying mango lassi), I was impressed by what I saw on the menu and the few items we sampled while seated under the shade of large umbrellas in front of the cafe.

All of their baked goods are made from trigo integral (unbleached, whole grain flour) and many options are dairy free. In addition to containing no artificial flavors, colors, preservatives, or genetically modified ingredients, no animal fats are used in their doughs (only pure canola oil). All of their postres (38-40 pesos) are baked on the premises: the smell of fresh-baked almond cookies wafted out of the kitchen to where we were sitting outside, tempting our small group to order more than we already had.

Although not all of their products are organic (coffee being a major exception), all of their juices, fruits, vegetables, dairy-products, breads, and tortillas are certified as such.

There were an assortment of sandwiches and teas on the menu, but we stuck to coffee and dessert. They offer the standard upscale coffee choices, as well as some I had never seen, such as the delicious cubana style coffee, an espresso flavored delicately with caramelized sugar. All drinks could be made with soy milk, which is not something I have seen very often in Mexico City.

The menu warned us that not everything listed was always available, due to the seasonal nature of many of their ingredients, but I was still disappointed when the waitress told me that they weren’t offering the tarte tatin I had my eye on. She pointed out several alternatives, included one not on the menu, a dense and bittersweet chocolate cake (perhaps flourless…), served with dollops of blueberry puree and fresh blueberries on top.

I’m no connoisseur of pastries, but I must say, I was impressed by this cake. The generous slice was simple and rich, dense without being too dry. If the (no added sugar) blueberry puree was underwhelming, it was only in comparison to the intense flavor of the chocolate. Devouring it was a group effort.

What I liked most about this small café was that it had a refined, French atmosphere about it, despite its very Berkeley, hippie heart. The quality of the food and coffee we ordered was so high that I didn’t mind the peace-frog soap dish in the bathroom. Even with the organics, the prices were lower than many of the more touristy cafés in the center of Coyoacán. I suspect that some items on the menu are better than others, but it will be a pleasure to go back and sample more.

Ruta de la Seda is not a specifically lesbian establishment, but the waitress was pleased to tell us that they “don’t discriminate against anyone,” and I strongly recommend it to anyone looking for places off the beaten track in Coyoacán.

Café-Patisserie: Ruta de la Seda; located at the corner of Aurora and Pino in the Santa Catarina section of Coyoacán

One of the things I love about the Centro Historico is the way the combination of the architecture, the fonts on the signs, and the styles in the storefronts allows you to time travel through decades, even centuries of Mexican history. Simply walking down Cinco de Mayo, from the majestic Palacio de Bellas Artes, past the 16th century decadence of the Casa de los Azulejos and the stylish lines of art deco buildings, all the way down to the Catedral Metropolitana, gives any visitor a sense of the way different eras seem to overlap and bleed into each other in this part of town.

My favorite place to stop for nourishment along Cinco de Mayo is La Pagoda. Formerly called “Cafe Popular,” La Pagoda has all the charm and attitude of a well-run roadside diner. The front part of the restaurant has row of booths for two or four, opposite a long counter. The counter is often full of single gentlemen stopping in for some comida corrida or a piece of pan dulce and some coffee, depending on the time of day. The back room is sunnier and has more booths and tables. The decor is an interesting blend of 1950′s and 1970′s hues and furniture, with small televisions propped in the corners of the ceiling, displaying an ever-rotating slide show of featured menu items.

The service is snappy and provided by sassy waitresses (of all ages) dressed in matching pink uniforms, complete with hair piece. Perhaps the reason the service is so good is that patrons are handed an evaluation card with the check. I’ve never had a reason to fill it out negatively, and usually have something positive to say about the service.

In my experiences, waitresses have never so much as raised an eyebrow upon seeing a large group of machas or an affectionate lesbian couple tucked in a booth. Additionally, I have seen transgender women dining here, without incident.

The menu offers a wide variety of styles of food, from sandwiches served on bagels, to soups (including ass decent sopa azteca), to egg dishes, to salads, to more standard Mexican fare. My favorite item on the menu is the chilaquiles verdes, with chicken, with an egg, or plain; all are delicious and filling. The portions are large and served with a generous amount of cheese. La Pagoda also offers well priced comida corrida during the day (around forty pesos). Nothing on the menu is over 100 pesos, and most items are under 50.

Aside from its savory fare, La Pagoda is well known for its pan dulce and delicious cafe con leche. For those that have never ordered cafe con leche in Mexico, the ritual of the experience is part of what makes it delicious. Dark, hot Espresso is poured first into a glass (you say how much), then topped off a minute later with hot, slightly sweet milk. The glass vessel allows you to witness the color of the beverage get lighter and lighter as the milk reaches the top of the glass. I will admit to not being a very sophisticated coffee drinker, but I love ordering this, and have done so at both 9:30 in the morning and 11:30 at night.

La Pagoda is open twenty-four hours a day, and is a wonderful place to stop for a reasonably priced and delicious meal or snack both during the day between sights in the Centro Historico and late at night in an attempt to prevent a hangover the next morning.

La Pagoda, address: Cinco de Mayo 52, Centro Historico, corner of Filomena

The restaurant is decorated with colorful butterflies of all kinds that hang from the ceiling and walls all over the place (“Papalotl” means butterfly in nahuatl); it is well illuminated, plants can be seen everywhere and if you are looking for an open-air area you can pick a table at the little garden in the back or maybe, sit in front of the little fountain.

Variety here is the word. Whether you are vegetarian or not, and if you are used to comidas corridas, you have three choices depending on the weekday. Meat is always on the menu, but on Tuesdays and Thursdays fish is one of the big attractions. You They also serve combos that include a sandwich or baguette, salad, aguas frescas and delicious coffee. They offer a large variety of dressings that includes honey mustard (my favorite) or yoghurt. Items on the menu are from 50 to 70 pesos, but always well served.

If you come by yourself, the music is nice and magazines like Proceso or La Jornada can be found at the entrance. Regulars come from CU, including machas from Philosophy and Literature Department, which is considered the most macha spot–at least in our circle of friends. Highly recommendable.

Cafe Papalotl. Comercio y Administración, 40, Col. Copilco Universidad. Opens 8 am to 8 pm. You can reach the place by walking from Facultad de Economía as if you were going to the subway.

After a friend decided to lend us her car for a few days, we decided to take a road trip to Acapulco. I wanted to spend a day or two indulging in the antique glamour of the jet-set 60′s I associated with the city, and then take a drive down the coast of Guerrero. I had heard there were places a few hours south of the city where, for a few pesos, you could sleep in a palapa on the beach and buy your meals from passing fishermen, eager to sell you part of that morning’s catch.

One day in Acapulco proved enough time to see the cliff divers at La Quebrada and explore Acapulco Viejo, the quaint neighborhood surrounding the Zócalo on the western side of the bay. We avoided the Cancun-esque neighborhoods further east, which are full of nightclubs (some gay) and chain restaurants like Planet Hollywood and Señor Frog’s.

The Xanadu I had hoped we would encounter a few hours south of the city never materialized. Instead we found a dirty stretch of sand and palapas that we affectionately referred to as “Bladerunner Beach.” There, quatrimotos (ATVs) driven by ten-year-olds criss-crossed the beach at high speeds while leering men attempted to sell us rides on the skeletal horses they dragged behind them. The ocean water was brown from the sand that had been stirred up by the rough surf and much warmer than this Northern California native was used to.

We decided to bid farewell to Bladerunner Beach and instead of pressing further south in search of an idyllic strip of beach we did not even know the name of, we headed back up the highway, to Pie de la Cuesta, an isthmus just north of Acapulco. A lesbian couple we knew had just come back from spending a week there, and had recommended it as an alternative to the garbage-strewn beaches of Acapulco.

To get a room, I suppose one could make reservations, but we just drove up and down the single road that runs parallel to the ocean and inquired about prices and accommodations at places that looked nice. Most hotels offer swimming pools and beach access in sparse rooms with fans (and no air conditioning). Prices ran between 250 and 400 pesos per night. Our hotel, the courtyard of which is pictured below, was no exception, and was either called Quinta Blanca or Quinta Azul. There is also an RV park.

The main pastime at Pie de la Cuesta is lounging under palapas on the beach, where you must pay a minimal fee for use of the shade and hammocks. Food and drinks can be ordered directly to the beach. Vendors walk up and down the beach in the hot sun selling snacks, trinkets, and jewelry. A walk down the beach in either direction will reveal abandoned buildings as well as more upscale hotels. According to locals, it is not safe to walk along the beach at night.

(If you are in your twenties, expect to hear occasional murmurs of “coca… mota… coca… mota…” ["cocaine... pot..."] from passing vendors. The state of Guerrero is a center for drug trafficking, and merchandise on its way to the US has trickled down to locals and beach-going tourists. I cannot speak to the quality or safety of these transactions if you choose to buy.)

If you get bored of the beach, it is possible to take a boat up the river where there are many little restaurants of varying quality. Ask about getting a mud treatment at a site along the banks. Supposedly, Juan Gabriel swears by it.

The highpoint of our trip to Pie de la Cuesta was unexpected. We found ourselves famished after nine one rainy evening and walked down the road to the nearest open restaurant. We were the only customers at Restaurant Maryfer (alternately spelled Marifer on the menu) although it was hard to tell who was the wait staff and who was just hanging out in this modest restaurant. A faggy teen with frosted tips took our order and headed back to the kitchen. A door in the restaurant led to an adjoining apartment from which a big, butch lesbian would emerge every few minutes, usually in patient pursuit of a small child. We saw another butch lesbian, slightly younger, wander back from the kitchen into the apartment. Where were we?

We wanted to take advantage of the fresh seafood available on Mexico’s coasts, and the menu had several unusual offerings on it in addition to the usual styles of pescado and camarones (a la veracruzana, al la diabla, al ajillo). The waiter brought out the chef to answer our questions about the curiously named “camarones a la mamada“. He explained that he had traveled all over Mexico to learn different styles of Mexican cooking featured on the menu, but that the camarones a la mamada were his own creation. What arrived was a visual as well as gastronomic feast: an enormous plate of whole shrimps (with heads) seasoned with a mayonnaise and chipotle-based marinade were served with a side of rice. The color was a fiery orange, the taste was rich and spicy but not overwhelmingly so. I supposed the name meant that the shrimps were to be sucked out of their shells, but I’m not ashamed to say I ate each entire prawn, head and all, so flavorful was this dish.

The other gem on the menu was more traditional fair: the micheladas were the best I’ve ever had. Served with ice (necesary in the oppressive humidity of the Guerrero coast) these were spicy and fresh, lighter and yet more flavorful than the best bloody mary. We couldn’t resist coming back and having another round at eleven the next morning, when we encountered even more gay and lesbian locals hanging out and stopping by. One big machota that was working in the kitchen would occasionally come outside to hack open a coconut with a machete on a rough wooden table in front of the restaurant.

When asked if he would mind us mentioning his restaurant in a gay guide to Mexico, the chef and owner, Jose Manuel Nieto, happily agreed, stating that he was gay and pointing out the subtle rainbow on the restaurant’s sign. He also mentioned that they rented rooms behind the restaurant, though we were not able to see the accommodations. Additionally, he told us that there was a small water-park behind the restaurant, and that he would be willing to close the water-park to the public for private parties if there were gay groups that wanted to use it.

So, plan a meal, a trip, or a gay pool party at fabulous Maryfer.

Pie de la Cuesta is accessible by bus or taxi from Acapulco (it is about a twenty minute drive from Acapulco Viejo). Unless you are determined to explore surrounding areas, I recommend taking a bus from Mexico City over driving. Unless you are traveling in a group of four or five, the tolls on the highway are much more than a roundtrip bus ticket, and long stretches of the road are very poorly lit at night.

Restaurante Maryfer, Av. Fuerza Aerea Lote 3 Manz. 59, Pie de la Cuesta, Acapulco

It is impossible to separate the history of this chain and what it represents to chilangos, since Sanborns can be found in each corner of the city. There are eighty branches throughout Mexico City and sixty more across the country. The advantage offered by these kind of stores, is that you can have the same recipes and the same quality; it doesn’t matter where you are in the Mexico. Since 1985, Sanborns has been owned by Grupo Carso, managed by Mexican billionaire Carlos Slim.

The importance of La Casa de los Azulejos is not only the legend of its creation, but the fact that it was the first place in which the Zapatista Army had chocolate and some pan dulce when they took over the city in 1914.

Because of this branch’s historical link to the Mexican Revolution, Sanborns has tried to link its aesthetics to those of the revolution: the waitresses at all locations of this restaurant have to wear an uncomfortable cardboard collar meant to emulate the clothes worn by mythic revolutionary folk hero Adelita.

Foto: ArtMageda

Sanborns sells imported magazines both in English and Spanish that you can flip through for free. You can also find overpriced cigarettes, toys, pharmacy products, fancy-pansy chocolates, cd’s and a useful ATM. It’s best feature is that you can always use the bathroom for free. Sanborns’ ubiquity in the city makes it a convenient spot to look for in a middle of an emergency.

The most recommendable Sanborns for machas visiting the DF, is the one located on the corner of Londres and Amberes in the Zona Rosa. The most interesting time to visit this place is weekends, before the sun rises, when the little café transforms into a diverse people-watching show, in which a wide array of partying characters can be seen. Young fags, punks, darketos (goths), dykes, femmes… all looking for a coffee and some carbohydrates to replace those burned during the night.

The uniformed waitresses attend to this diverse population with indifference—the kind needed to work the graveyard shift. Flirtatious glances are exchanged between tables, the vestiges of the night’s glamour not yet worn off. If you are lucky, maybe someone will ask for your phone number before breakfast…

The exquisite tortas at La Barraca Valenciana are all served on small bolillos (rolls) and in addition to the usual sandwich choices (pierna… milanesa…), Barraca also has several vegetarian options. The champiñones torta, made with chopped small mushrooms–not the overwhelming volume of a portobello cap–is one worthy option; the vegetariano, made with with sautéed eggplant and deliciously melted Chihuahua cheese, is another, though a tad heavier. Both sandwiches are served with chimichurri, a simple Argentine sauce made from olive oil, garlic, and parsley, and the staff is happy to bring you some more on the side.

Although the vegetarian options are tempting, the best torta at La Barraca Valenciana is the calimar, simply a bolillo piled with chopped baby squid, cooked in chimichurri. As with any of the sandwiches here, you can supplement the flavors of the calimar with some of the chiles, cauliflower, onions, or small potatoes marinating in vinegar as a condiment on every table.

The tortas here are small–I couldn’t say light– but for those looking for more of an appetizer, I recommend the papas bravas, boiled potatoes served in a sauce made from chile and the same house-made mayonnaise. The passable micheladas are a nice accompaniment.

Although La Barraca Valenciana is not an explicitly lesbian establishment, its location in Coyoacán and proximity to the “Blue House” Frida Kahlo Museum make it a spot frequented by both chilanga and tourist machas alike. Stop next door at the window of local chain coffee shop El Jarocho for an afternoon coffee or hot chocolate.

Tortas at La Barraca Valenciana run between 30 and 60 pesos and are well worth it for the rich fusion of flavors that spans three continents.