The Cabbage Leaf and the Billionaire
Following Taste, Finding More
The Cabbage Taco at Rosetta
Rosetta | Mexico City, Mexico
I found Mexico City to be a destination of grand and sweeping paradox. Pricey Michelin-star tasting menus compete with scrumptious, humble taco stands. Gargantuan traffic circles give way to quaint tree-lined parks. Massive world-class museums pique curiosity alongside intimate casas museo.
To visit this fabulous city means one moves seamlessly without distinction between all of its extremes and dichotomies. This, in fact, is one of many reasons a trip to Mexico City feels so memorable, so persistently alive.
By the time I actually arrived at Rosetta on Saturday afternoon for a late lunch, I was nearly halfway through my trip to Mexico City. I’d had spectacular bites and sips at Handshake Speakeasy, Quintonil and Expendio de Maiz. I had treated myself to the perfect vanilla concha at Saint and tried mamey ice cream at Nevería Roxy.
Now it was time to see what deliciousness Taste, My Compass was conjuring up at this Michelin-star favorite overlooking the bustling Calle Colima. After studying the menu, I started where I always do. I asked the server for his recommendations.
When sizing up a server’s recommendations, I have learned over the years to watch them as closely as I listen to what they say. And for that reason, my gut told me to bet on the Cabbage Taco. The server used his whole body to talk about how good it was. Which, in turn, prompted me to up my own level of anticipation and readiness.
There are those bites we come to take that wake up an undefinable part of our soul, and this was one such bite and one such dish. These bites energize every tastebud in our mouth; the vibrations of their sudden and complete takeover surge through us. Their aftershocks felt long after we pushed away from the table.
Shamefully, I’ll admit I was disappointed when it came out of the kitchen and I saw that the cabbage leaf was the tortilla. But that disappointment lasted exactly as long as it took for me to fold that same leaf up and take my first bite.
It was so insanely and brilliantly simple, so seemingly minimalist and pure. So perfectly perfect.
Several days later, in contrast, I visited the very big and very modern Soumaya, a private art museum gifted to the city from Mexican billionaire Carlos Slim in memory of his late wife, Soumaya. I am by no means an art snob or a student of fine art. I know enough to know what moves me personally and I use that to seek out certain genres over others.
But through my eyes, the Soumaya was beyond gratuitous. It was literally stuffed with works of art. Nothing had a chance to breathe or stand out. It was borderline offensive sensory-overload.
I longed for the space to feel and absorb but I couldn’t. There was just too much there.
Further agitating that feeling of overconsumption, was the skepticism I felt passing reproductions of the David and the Pietà in the museum’s statue-stuffed lobby. A art bonanza for sure, but all of it felt like it was at the expense of the art itself.
Funny enough, as I whirled my way down the museum’s ramps, my visit there reminded me again of that Rosetta cabbage taco.
How much beauty there can be in simplicity. How much talent and vision it requires to hold back.
In a city of magnificent contrast, my compass made sure I didn’t just taste the difference, I felt it.
