Tamal sandwich, blessed guajolota, queen of Mondays in Mexico City, mistress of the take-away breakfast, provider of just enough calories to get the body going in the metropolis that never stops. The mother of our Chilanga diet, the one that pampers us as only we in the capital city know how to do: with the soft embrace of a bolillo. Warm tamales at night, green, rajas, mole with chicken.

“Come and ask…” the lady with the steamer that perfumes the exit of the Metro -of all the Metros- and the supermarkets, urges us. Tamales of cochinita, suadero, Gansito, and cream cheese with jam: gourmet tamales are also available, because the tamal in Mexico is a canvas, an invitation to play and create a lot with little. A pilgrim food, daughter of movement and street vending, culinary and emotional sustenance for those of us who travel the city every day toting our dreams, tiredness and appetites.