What I'm craving
Marquesitas, sushi, and other cravings
Tabasqueñas marquesitas
This time, they weren't from Mérida
capital y ciudad más poblada del estado de Yucatán, México — for a change — but some Tabasqueñas marquesitas with Dutch Edam cheese and Coronado cajeta can beat any craving, no matter where it's from.
The marquesita is one of the simplest and most perfect things in the street food of southeastern Mexico: a thin dough of flour, water, and sugar is cooked on a hot iron mold until it's crunchy like a cookie, still warm, it's filled and rolled over itself. The real luxury is never in the dough — it's in what you put on top.
And in this house, the combination is non-debatable: Dutch Edam cheese (that same cheese that arrived in Yucatán over a century ago through maritime trade and is now more Yucatecan than many dishes with Maya names) and a generous drizzle of cajeta. The contrast of a salty, semi-hard cheese melting against a goat's milk caramel inside a crunchy crepe is simply unbeatable.
- The name 'marquesita' has no known relation to any real marquise — nobody in Méridacapital y ciudad más poblada del estado de Yucatán, México knows where it came from, and nobody seems to care.
- The original recipe is just flour, water, and sugar rolled on a hot mold — the real luxury is 100% in the filling, not in the dough.
- The Dutch Edam cheese that almost all marquesitas have arrived in Yucatán through maritime trade with Holland since the 19th century — a European cheese that ended up being more Yucatecan than many 'traditional' dishes.
- Although this time it wasn't from Méridacapital y ciudad más poblada del estado de Yucatán, México, any Yucatecan with honor will swear that the only real marquesita is the one from their trusted stall — there's no neutral marquesita.
- With cajeta and cheese — and Nutella, if you dare — a single marquesita can have more sugar than a whole cake, and yet it's eaten like it's light.
My favorite chain sushi in Mexico
El Japonez
It's my favorite chain sushi restaurant in Mexico. It's not the most traditional or purist sushi, but it's exactly what I crave when I want something rich, consistent, and uncomplicated — and with several branches, there's always one nearby.
Their truffle butter roll is unbeatable. It's that kind of Mexican-Japanese fusion that a Tokyo purist would never approve of, and yet it works perfectly.
- It's probably the sushi that most Mexicans have eaten in their lives without realizing that 'that' isn't exactly how sushi is eaten in Japan — and nobody cares.
- Their truffle butter on sushi is proof that sometimes fusing cuisines without asking permission gives better results than respecting tradition to the letter.
- It's a chain, not a single restaurant — and yet it manages to make each branch feel like 'your Japonez'.
- It's the kind of place you swear you'll go to 'once a month' and end up going every week.
Sausalito, California
Sushi Ran
In Sausalito, just across the bridge from San Francisco, is Sushi Ran — a restaurant with over 40 years of history, founded by Yoshi Tome and now with chef Takanori Wada at the helm. It has a Michelin Bib Gourmand (2025), was named one of the 30 most important restaurants in the Bay Area by the San Francisco Chronicle, and has won an OpenTable Diners' Choice.
The quality and flavor there are spectacular — the perfect combination of fat and flavor. Of the three, it's probably the most consistent in that exact balance I look for in a good piece of fish.
- It's been open for over 40 years in a town so small (Sausalito) that most of its neighbors could walk there in slippers — and yet it competes with the best of San Francisco.
- It has a Michelin Bib Gourmand — the category that rewards 'incredible food without paying like it's your anniversary', although in practice it's still not exactly cheap.
- The San Francisco Chronicle named it one of the 30 most important restaurants in the Bay Area in 30 years — an achievement that no sign on the door mentions loudly enough.
- It won an OpenTable Diners' Choice competing against a whole city obsessed with food — and it did so by serving raw fish in a sailing town.
San Ángel, Mexico City
Kunio
Hidden in San Ángel, one of the most colonial and least 'sushi' neighborhoods in Mexico City, is Kunio — a discreet Japanese place that you almost never stumble upon by accident, always through a trusted recommendation.
It always has a freshness that's hard to find. It's the kind of place where the fish speaks for itself, without needing the restaurant to brag about it.
- It's hidden in San Ángel, one of the most colonial and least 'sushi' neighborhoods in Mexico City — the freshness of the fish there competes directly with the cobblestone streets.
- It's one of those places that almost nobody discovers by accident — you always get there because someone you trust recommended it first.
- Discretion is almost part of the menu: neither the sign nor the place boasts — it lets the nigiri speak for itself.
My all-time favorite
Salmon nigiri with wasabi
If you ask me what my all-time favorite dish is, without thinking much: salmon nigiri with a touch of wasabi. Simple, straightforward, no fuss.
And although sushi takes the crown, I'm also a huge fan of poke bowls — with cauliflower rice, salmon, tuna, corn, and edamame. Why am I fat?
Larry