The first Mexican taco stand to receive a Michelin star is a small business where the meat is heat-processed

After less than a minute — he won’t say exactly how long because “that’s a secret” — he flips the beef with a spoon, turns the tortilla over, and very quickly scoops the fresh, cooked tortilla onto a plastic plate, places the beef on top and calls out the name of the customer who ordered it.

Any sauces – fiery red or equally atomic green – are added by the customer. There is no place to sit, and at some times of the day, no place to stand because the sidewalk in front of the business has been taken over by street vendors selling socks, batteries and cell phone accessories for years.

Not that you’d really want to eat inside a little taco joint. The heat on a spring day is overwhelming.

Heat is one of the few secrets Rivera Martinez will share. The steel grill should be heated to an impressive 680 degrees (360 degrees Celsius). When asked how it felt to receive a Michelin star, he said in classic Mexico City slang: “está chido… está padre” or “It’s elegant, it’s great.”

Prices are very high by Mexican standards. One generous but not huge taco costs about $5. But many customers are convinced that it is the best, if not the cheapest, in the city.

“It’s the quality of the meat,” said Alberto Muñoz, who has been coming here for about eight years. “I’ve never been disappointed. And now I’ll recommend it for even more reason, now that it’s got a star.”

“This is a historic day for Mexican cuisine, and we are witnesses to that,” noted Muñoz’s son, Alan, who was waiting for his beef tacos alongside his father.

It’s really about not changing anything – the freshness of the tortillas, the menu, the design of the restaurant. Owner Mario Hernandez Alonso won’t even reveal where he buys his meat.

But times have changed. El Caliva de León’s most loyal customer base originally came from politicians affiliated with the old ruling Institutional Revolutionary Party, whose headquarters were located about five blocks away. But the party lost the presidency in 2018 and has been in steady decline, and now it’s rare to see anyone wearing a suit here.

Hernandez Alonso noted that his father, Juan, who founded the company, didn’t bother trademarking the Caliva name, so the stylish, well-financed taco chain opened about 15 large-scale restaurants in upscale neighborhoods under a similar name. Hernandez Alonso has been toying with the idea of ​​posting his work on social media, but that’s up to his grandchildren.

By law, in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic, Mexico City restaurants were allowed to open covered street-side seating areas. But El Caliva de Leon doesn’t even have a sidewalk where customers can eat because of the street vendors, so customers now stand facing each other with plastic stands and mannequins.

When asked if he would like to make room for a street-side seating area, Hernandez-Alonso expressed an “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it” attitude.

“As the saying goes, why fix or change something that’s okay? You don’t have to fix anything,” he said, pointing to the street vendors. “It’s the way God ordered things, and you have to deal with it.”