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The smallish Plaza Manuel Tolsá—at the end of Calle de Tacuba—is an all-but-perfect urban conglomeration that will thrill architecture fans. To the south lies the 18th-century Palacio de Minería (a former engineering college) whose solid, sober mastery of imposing volume is leavened by the wavy effects of the city’s sinking soils; to the north is the former Palacio de Comunicaciones, now Mexico’s National Art Museum. The collection here is a winner—but some of the structure’s soaring neoclassical spaces will leave you agog. At the corner with the Eje Central thoroughfare stands the city’s beloved old post office, noted for its eclectic, Venetian-style facade and coruscating interiors in marble, bronze, and iron (don’t miss the grand staircase). A recently restored equestrian statue of a somewhat dopey-looking King Charles IV of Spain is a marvelous finishing touch.

The cobalt-blue-and-brick-red residence where now-legendary Mexican visual artist Frida Kahlo grew up—and at times lived with husband Diego Rivera—is one of the city’s most consistently packed attractions; buying tickets in advance is strongly recommended. That said, the visit is essentially (and justifiably) mandatory and offers fascinating glimpses into this extraordinary woman’s life and work. In addition to holding some of her paintings, the house also functions as a showcase for her library, astounding wardrobe, and collection of pre-Columbian artifacts; it additionally bears witness to her close association with left-wing politics. What’s more, the museum portrays the artist’s struggles with depression, marital infidelities, disability, and illness. The house’s garden—home to a modest café and mostly bashful felines—makes for a great breather before more strolling in the Coyoacán neighborhood.

The former Colegio de San Ildefonso is a magnificent colonial structure set around several imposing, multistoried arcades with halls now decorated by some of Mexico’s most spectacular murals. Even better, it serves as one of the city’s most ambitious and engaging art museums, with an edgy, wide-ranging focus that never fails to surprise. Recent years’ exhibitions have featured avant-garde foreign artists like Vik Muniz and Ron Meuck; homegrown blockbusters like Javier Marín; Candida Höfer’s striking architectural photography; and Marilyn Manson’s macabre visual works. Try to get a peek into the Colegio’s old amphitheater, where one of Diego Rivera’s first major commissions looks better than ever.

A wildly colorful, cartoonish emoji mural sets the scene for fun, fabulous Lalo, the casual-chic outpost from chef Eduardo García (whose Máximo Bistrot is adjudged one of the finest spots in the city). Tables for two are the first to fill, so diners usually find themselves at a long shared table, choosing from a menu of small(ish) plates that pack real flavor and cleverly blend familiar comforts with more-unusual, yet equally tempting, combinations. Breakfast faves include a sinful French toast or less conventional choices like chilaquiles in salsa verde; fluffy omelettes contain amazing cheeses and surprising ingredients. And don’t be shy with pastries. Lunch swings to raved-about pastas and pizzas, or the salad whose ingredients all come fresh from nearby Xochimilco. Artisanal beers and homemade sodas are a sensation as well.

Long the heart of the Condesa district (even during the dark days following Mexico City’s devastating 1985 earthquake), today’s Parque México is the quintessential urban park. Well-manicured with ample seating and a recently refurbished open-air forum that plays host to groovy neighborhood events as well as perennial skateboarders, the park’s venerable trees provide shade to the area’s easy-on-the-eyes crowd of joggers, dog walkers, cute old folks, and amorous teens. Along the garden’s perimeter, some of the city’s smartest apartment houses (often in flawless art deco style) share space with cool cafés, kicky boutiques, and crowded restaurants. Few city pleasures surpass Parque México’s people-watching (and pooch-watching) over coffee or cocktails, as golden sunlight streams through branches onto lively, see-and-be-seen sidewalk venues.

The splendid neoclassical church of San Felipe Neri (commonly called “La Profesa”), whose present structure was completed in 1720, is a gem in Mexico’s bustling downtown that many visitors never see, with a balanced, harmonious main chapel in sober stone and glossy gold tones. Even fewer visit the church’s picture gallery, called the Pinacoteca, home to one of the city’s most complete collections of colonial-era religious art, imposingly arrayed in a handful of high-ceilinged chambers that seem not to have changed a whit since viceregal days. No such thing as gilding the lily here.

With almost 20 years at the helm of a dining room that’s jammed every afternoon, Gabriela Cámara at Contramar must be doing something right. For one, the seafood on offer—traditional, even homey recipes, impeccably prepared—is among the freshest available. Service is quick, yet warm and enjoyable. It brings in a well-dressed, deliberately coiffed crowd that loves table-hopping, seeing and being seen, and air-kissing; but most of all, they relish digging into house specialties like the fish carnitas, the legendary tuna tostadas, and the grilled pescado a la talla (ordered by weight, and served in a red adobo or a parsley rub). Some afternoons (especially Fridays) you can’t believe the waiters have actually squeezed one more person in, yet everyone is very glad they came. Desserts are especially recommended. Open for lunch only—which may explain the sense of urgency at the door.

A blend of neo-Gothic and art nouveau, the enchanting Livraria Lello bookshop dates to 1906 and is rumored to have inspired J.K. Rowling’s Hogwarts in Harry Potter.

Mexico City’s mammoth cathedral was built across three centuries (1573–1813)—starting soon after Cortés and his allies vanquished the Aztec Empire—using stones taken from a destroyed indigenous temple. Today’s sanctuary serves up contrasts between unadorned neoclassical walls alongside exuberant gilt chapels and altarpieces as well as a massive pipe organ, with some baroque elements, that’s still dusted off and played from time to time. Be sure not to miss the high altar, and consider shelling out for a visit to the sacristy, with its glistening dome, grand canvases, and massive cabinets, fit to hold an archbishop’s entire stock of holy utensils. And for a queasy view of how much the ground beneath the city is sinking, note how chandeliers appear to list in comparison to the chapel’s vertical lines.

With the Spanish conquest of the Aztec empire, Iberian overlords set about imposing their customs on the subdued populace, eliminating traces of pre-Hispanic religions they deemed heretical by demolishing major temples and building churches and other structures atop their ruins. Centuries later, in 1978, workers laying electrical lines happened upon the remains of the Templo Mayor, the Aztecs’ most important ceremonial center (and, yes, the location of their notorious human sacrifices). Subsequent excavations have revealed superimposed pyramid foundations and priceless artworks, many now displayed at the on-site museum. Thrillingly, treasures keep turning up—including the spring 2017 discovery of a stone box containing some of the finest Aztec gold ever found, just off the Templo Mayor’s steps.

Lardo, a sister restaurant to chef Elena Reygadas’s Rosetta and her bakery, is especially warm and buzzy on sunny days, when the Condesa restaurant’s full facade of French doors is thrown open and its handsome crowd spills out. The kitchen applies all the chef’s singular refinements to a winning mix of Tuscan recipes that put special focus on fine charcuterie. Menu items are (perhaps deceptively) simple: poached eggs, seasoned variously; a nice selection of pizzas; fresh, vinegary salads that don’t go overboard; grilled shellfish. The complexity arises from their delicacy on the palate, where each crisp taste is savored separately—and as a part of the whole. A nice wine list encourages sobremesa, the delightful Mexican custom of lingering over the table. Breads—either the ones that come with your meal or the ones you take home from the on-site bakery—might be the best in the city.

Pamela Echeverría founded her original Avenida Ámsterdam space in 2010, after experiences at Galería OMR and the Museo de Arte Carrillo Gil. Since then, the gallery has made a name for itself by providing a forum for contemporary-art proposals based on impassioned research; its catalog has included artists such as Teresa Margolles (2009 Venice Bienniale and the 2012 Prince Claus Award), Erick Beltrán, Santiago Sierra (2003 Venice Bienniale, representing Spain), and Héctor Zamora, as well as Jill Magid, Pablo Vargas Lugo, Terence Gower, and Antonio Vega Macotela. Labor’s current headquarters were originally functionalist architect Enrique del Moral’s 1948 residence and lie just across the street from 1980 Pritzker Prize winner Luis Barragán’s house, which was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2004.

Full disclosure: It’s authentically tourist-tacky in Plaza Garibaldi, the traditional Mexico City center for mariachi music and culture. But when you’re ready for a serenade, you’re ready. The plaza fills up late at night, every night, with a motley crew of local revelers from all walks of life, plus visitors, vendors, and dozens of extravagantly attired orchestras. Taking a table at Salón El Tenampa, right on the plaza, may afford a modicum of order. A Garibaldi institution beneath its fabulous neon sign, this music hall pulls in a fascinating, Felliniesque crew of misbehaving pencil pushers, shady ladies, brokenhearted tequila swillers, wide-eyed travelers, and slumming hipsters. Strolling bands—usually pretty good—are available for hire, but bring them in close to your table to avoid sonic interference from every other trumpet in the joint.

A sense of nerdy fun suffuses the proceedings at La Increíble Librería, a bookstore whose proprietors have already combed through the standard shop’s offerings and whittled it down to a mix of vintage and new volumes, all noteworthy for their rarity, extraordinary design, or winning sense of nostalgia. Airy but eclectic, the boutique is designed to showcase 5,000 volumes only (practically nothing for a bookstore) and also sells ephemera as well as high-design stationery; an ambitious coffee-and-snack menu invites you to linger as well. Give yourself time to browse and you’re sure to happen on some title you never knew you couldn’t live without. Most days, the vibe is library-quiet, but don’t be afraid to consult the knowledgeable, friendly staff.

After a couple of days in Mexico City, once you’re well-rested and adjusted to the altitude, why not try a little street eating? After all, some locals do it every day, and the techniques vendors use have been in place for centuries, if not millennia. A good jumping-off point is the sometimes-grilled sandwich known as a torta. The ingredient combinations are endless, ranging from egg, shredded chicken, and pork loin to the Mexican piece of breaded beef known as a milanesa—and the list goes on. String cheese and chipotles or pickled jalapeños add a lot of flavor, but do it your way. A lot of customers at a stall is good sign both in terms of taste and cleanliness. With a torta under your belt, start thinking about tacos. Or that spot with the caldo de pollo chicken soup, perfect for all kinds of add-ins. Soon enough you’re a seasoned streeter.