ESPAÑOL
When I first visited San Miguel de Allende 30 years ago, arriving by train at a snail’s pace, it was a quiet place, difficult to reach pueblo, “discovered” by foreigners as early as the 1930s (my parents spent the summer of 1949 there) but relatively unchanged since mid-century. As for eating, the street food was great but “fine dining” was limited to a handful of mediocre, reputable institutions. Then, sometime after the turn of the 21st century, the international outcry took hold and the city exploded. High-class visitors from Texas and Mexico City arrived in droves. Real estate prices skyrocketed; the traffic became unbearable. Although those in power insisted that it be called a “city,” the dining scene remained decidedly provincial. Captivated by the charming colonial courtyards and panoramic views, it was easy to imagine that you were eating well. The locals who knew better to stay home. In the last few years, however, a number of great (and some not so) chef-driven places have opened their colonial doors. I’ve written about the still excellent Aperí, and I have to mention the lovely Bulla, a branch of one of Mexico City’s best Spanish tabernas. The former city is now something of a mecca for luxury restaurants and hotels; its physical appeal is intact despite being surrounded by terrifying malls and countless gated communities. And no, it’s not the gringos’ fault arguing for a rainy day (which almost never afflicts sunny San Miguel). I was recently invited to visit a great ranch and a new Indian joint and revisited an old, comforting, favorite.
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