Why Netflix’s Masala y Maiz in Mexico City Fails Spectacularly as a Fine Dining Experience

Why Netflix’s Masala y Maiz in Mexico City Fails Spectacularly as a Fine Dining Experience

I was so excited to try Masala Y Maiz for my birthday dinner in Mexico City this August. The chefs were featured in Netflix’s documentary series Chef’s Table, and I was excited to try their fusion food. The story of overcoming corruption and graft in CDMX was inspiring, and I was feeling good about supporting their business. Unfortunately, our experience here was extraordinarily disappointing. While it is clear that the chef-owners of MyM care deeply about the wellbeing of their employees, and making the restaurant business more fair to those who make a living working in it, it was also very clear that they absolutely do not care about their patrons and guests, making our time here uncomfortable (literally and emotionally), and regrettable.

Coming here, we knew the chef-owners’ politics were at the forefront of the experience, and I was totally prepared for, and fine with that. Generally, I don’t let peoples’ politics get in the way of much of my experience with that person, or their art. However, the politics here go beyond slogans like “Free Palestine” and “Down with the Patriarchy” printed in Spanish in their menus (which are offensive to plenty of people writing Trip Advisor reviews). Unfortunately, the politics impact the attitudes of the waitstaff, and the restaurant seems wholly unwelcoming of anyone other than Spanish-speaking Mexican Nationals. The problem with having a Michelin-starred restaurant, and your own episode on Chef’s Table, however, is that you are going to attract guests from all over the world. Having an insular attitude is not conducive to welcoming international clientele. Not a single person here wished me a happy birthday, either, which was simply sad.

Not only was the service distracted, unwelcoming, and chilly, but the restaurant design itself is stark and brutalist. The restaurant recently underwent a renovation, and the result is a bizarre place where you feel like you’re eating in an underground bunker with the walls wrapped in aluminum foil. Insular, indeed! The chairs are beautiful, but you cannot sit in them if you are remotely larger than a size medium, because the two metal poles holding the slung leather are so narrow that they cut into your hip, making it literally impossible to sit in the chair. I found this quite surprising in light of the fact that one of the chefs is definitely not medium-sized. They did bring us a pair of their original chairs from prior to the refurb, which were also tiny, wooden hexagons upon which only a small child would be comfortable.

Since when is aluminum foil a design choice?

Other bizarre choices left us with literally bad tastes in our mouths. Copper cups are used to serve water here, which is strange since the water just ends up tasting like pennies, and is totally gross. Their snack, which is “on the house” are these in-shell peanuts swimming in some kind of brown watery sauce that you’re supposed to shuck and eat yourself, however when peeling the peanuts, brown water or sauce struck me in the face and got on our shirts, and no wet naps of any kind were provided for during, or after the snack. We were really left scratching our heads with this one.

The rest of the food here is quite good, though, and it’s really unfortunate that the experience beyond actually eating the food we ordered was a complete tragedy. Highlights for the food were as follows: First, the samosas were incredible. Wrapped in a flaky phyllo dough, it was tough to decide if the beef or potato were more delicious.

The Camarones Pa’pelar are really what MyM is known for, and are featured in the Netflix documentary. Massive prawns are rubbed with vanilla, chiles and spices and grilled to perfection. An absolute dream. They did actually bring wet towels to clean your hands after this dish.

I also loved the Paratha Quesadilla, which was a lovely, decadent dish, oozing with cheese that comes from the mountains of Mexico. This was not a super spicy dish, and a really nice way to break up all the flavorful dishes we were eating.

The Kuku Poussin is also a dish you cannot skip. It’s a small chicken, incredibly seasoned and fried, served whole for the table. The meat is incredibly delicate and falls off the bone, and the the sweet potato puree is a great accompaniment for it.

Finally, I was excited to try the tres leches dessert. I love a deliciously spiced tres leches cake, but this one was dry and really boring. The presentation was not appetizing, and I only had a few bites. This really bummed me out, since it was my actual birthday, and I was hopeful for, at least, a spectacular dessert.

For a place where the owners are very outspoken for being “for the people,” unfortunately, Masala Y Maiz is unwelcoming and borderline alienating to its international clientele. If you want recognition and Michelin Stars, I would recommend against making people feel unwanted and excluded, since those are the people paying your bills and wages. Despite the high quality of the food here, I would strongly recommend against wasting one of your precious evenings in CDMX at Masala Y Maiz. There are many other exquisite restaurants and experiences worth your time and money in this incredible city. Check out my reviews of Esquina Comun, Quintonil, and Rosetta for a far better experience.

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