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Chef Eduardo García (of Lalo and Máximo Bistrot fame) applies his exquisite taste to a more traditionally French bill of fare at Havre 77, a beautiful dining room on what may be the city’s hippest half-block. Just a smattering of tables (reservations are recommended) and a handsome old-style bar inhabit two rooms and a tiny terrace in a fabulous fin de siècle mansion whose feel is still contemporary; couples favor the restaurant for its romantic, indulgent atmosphere. A pared-down menu hints at the approach: quality over quantity in Gallic standards like onion soup, oysters, a buttery steak frites, duck confit; all ingredients are excellent, leveraging the best of Mexican farms and ranches. Near perfect yet never fussy.

A major driver in the city’s burgeoning food scene, Mercadoroma pays homage to Mexico’s beloved open markets, yet explodes the concept by renting stalls to a dizzying array of purveyors of fine food, beer, wine, and spirits, and other stuffs—all under the same roof. The experience combines picking up staples, hard-to-find cheeses, baked goods, and charcuterie with popping down here or there for a quick gourmet taco, torta, burger, or bit of barbecue. The sweet-tooth set does not leave disappointed, and a retro midcentury vibe makes the market’s shared tables particularly pleasant; the top-floor terrace is a perfect retreat on late afternoons for artisanal beers, mezcals, and a full range of cocktail options. (Check out the market’s sister spot in Coyoacán.)

A chic deli to be sure, Belmondo serves American-style sandwiches like Reubens, tuna melts, grilled cheeses, etc.—about which its young, fashionable adherents rave—but the menu holds some surprises as well, like a barbecued brisket or a chicken curry on peasant bread. The salad selection is varied and creative, in everything from an old-fashioned Cobb to exquisite local beets with goat cheese and avocado. Breakfast (weekends only before 1:45 p.m.) is also about greatest hits; think eggs Benedict and French toast or one of the very few bagels with gravlax you’ll ever see south of the Rio Grande. The place, in Roma Norte, is famed for celebrity sightings and generally crowded, yet the vibe is low-key, cool, and friendly.

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.

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.

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.

Chef José Andrés celebrates carnivores at this one-of-a-kind Philippe Starck–designed restaurant in SLS Las Vegas. As the name suggests, meat plays a role on nearly every plate here. A classic beef tartare is accompanied by a little skillet of Parker House rolls, and a bison carpaccio is served Buffalo-style with celery, blue cheese, and hot sauce. There are caviar flights and tiny sandwiches that amount to nothing more than bites. Among the many main courses available—rack of New Zealand lamb, chateaubriand, grilled octopus—the most famous dish is a suckling pig prepared in a Spanish cazuela so the skin gets crispy and the meat tender. For all the focus on flesh, there’s a surprising number of salads and vegetable dishes.

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.

Housed in a 1964 structure whose modern lines and central fountain greatly complement what’s on view, this anthropology museum is a repository of the most important pre-Hispanic treasures modern Mexico has discovered. The works are displayed in exhibits that trace the entire history of the Americas’ indigenous population, from the Bering migration to the present day. Exhaustive (and sometimes exhausting) in scope, many visitors choose to jump ahead to “greatest-hits” galleries focusing on name brands like the Aztecs (to see their misnamed calendar stone); the Maya and their artifacts; or the Olmec culture, famed for its colossal (and quite sensual) head sculptures dating back to Mesoamerica’s earliest recorded eras.

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.

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.

Once a separate town, the leafy colonial neighborhood known as Coyoacán has long been absorbed into the city at large, but retains a separate, old-fashioned air that’s impossible to resist. Restaurants and ice cream parlors (plus some venerable, divey cantinas) cluster around the quarter’s two central plazas that fill daily with strolling families, bootblacks, balloon sellers, and organ grinders. Feeling noshy? Locals swear by the esquites (stewed and seasoned corn kernels) on offer at a street stall next to the Sanborns store, right on Plaza del Centenario. A walk down Calle Francisco Sosa takes you past some of the city’s most valuable (often colonial-era) residences and ends at adorable Plaza Santa Catarina, with its petite parish church and a handful of friendly watering holes when it’s time for a drink or a snack.

The close-in neighborhood called Colonia Roma was first developed at the dawn of the 20th century as a high-end suburb laid out along tree-lined boulevards and plazas. Prominent families erected elaborate residences in architectural styles ranging from neoclassical to art nouveau and even neo-Moorish. A century later—despite some ups and downs—the district is at a peak as one of Mexico City’s most fashionable areas, and old mansions now serve as retail spaces or smart dining rooms that open out onto the street, day and night, in that marvelous dolce vita way. Stroll the quarter’s main drag, Álvaro Obregón, afternoons and evenings, for a complete sampling of its urban pleasures; shopaholics with an eye for edgy design won’t want to miss the whimsical boutiques that line adjacent Cerrada Colima. Deeper dives into side streets and nearby plazas turn up even more surprises when you’re ready for a walkabout.