In Mexico City we know that a quesadilla may or may not have cheese in it. We also know that shredded cheese is the best to melt on the griddle and that perhaps the best quesadilla filling is pressed pork rinds, with their deep, round flavor. The sope and the tlacoyo, although they could be similar, have their own charm; just like the huaraches, the machetes, the gorditas, the petroleras and all the relatives of the taco that cohabit in a griddle, that circle of life where the tortilla’s family tree was born, the matriarch of the street gastronomy. From it continue to emerge possibilities made of corn with cheese, salsa, “garden”, cream, lettuce and stews. The griddle feeds us under umbrellas or market roofs, but it not only fills our bellies, it also nourishes our chilanga identity.