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Once a separate municipality, San Ángel—in the city’s south, nestled into its western foothills—is a leafy, genteel enclave whose relative isolation adds a soigné feel (for better or worse) you won’t find in neighboring Coyoacán. Ground zero for promenading is quaint Plaza San Jacinto, whose cute parish church (and beautiful cloister garden) is a sort of spiritual last stand amid the surrounding area’s high-toned consumerism. That said, the plaza’s true spirit comes alive Saturdays, at the so-called Bazar Sábado, an artisanal market that fills the area with stall after stall of handmade jewelry, textiles, crafts, and accessories, plus a great deal of art—some finer, some less so—in styles that go from hippie to haute. Strolling musicians and performers add to the carnival atmosphere.

Wood and ferns, creping vines, and abundant natural light abound in this new outing from the owners of Galanga Thai Kitchen. The menu features Thai classics like tom kha gai soup and green papaya salad, as well as Vietnamese favorites like rice noodles and beef broth with galangal ginger and lemongrass, pok-pok wings, and bahn mi. The gastronomy is notable not just for proven comforts, or even because of freshly harvested ingredients from the garden they maintain in the town of Hidalgo, Morelos; you’ve also got Chef Somri “Anna” Raksamra’s hand when it comes to seasonings. Start out with chicken, beef, pork, and shrimp skewers that you charcoal-roast on a colorful, open-air cart (an homage to food carts that abound along Thai streets). For dessert you’ve got a sweet potato tart—something you won’t find anyplace, anywhere in Mexico City.

Thousands of years ago, the entire Yucatán Peninsula was under water, as evidenced by its massive network of rivers that flow beneath the region’s limestone surface. No place better presents the area’s captivating caverns and underground water systems than majestic Río Secreto, a nature park just south of Playa del Carmen that offers adventurous travelers wide-ranging cave tours. Extending for miles, its river system wasn’t discovered until 2006, when a local man accidentally stumbled across an entrance while chasing an iguana through the jungle. When you go, guides lead you through a maze of stalactites and stalagmites that ends with a swim in subterranean waterways that vary based on the path you choose.

Part cigar store, part bar, and part lounge: Corona Cigar Company is pretty much cigar nirvana for some. With indoor and outdoor seating, including sumptuous leather and wood chairs, this is a chilled spot for a smoke and a drink. Go before a movie or after dinner at the Colonial Town Park.

This shop, down a tiny sunny alley off a sidestreet in Colonia Roma (Córdoba 67 interior 7), is like many other Mexico City’s shops that support women’s crafts collective, but it’s slightly different in that it carefully curates its inventory—made using the local traditional crafts of weaving, embroidery, jewelry-making—choosing only those pieces that complement a more modern lifestyle. Yes, that’s a traditional huipil, or pullover tunic, from Guerrero, but while this simple embroidered piece would work for your abuela, it would also look cool at your graphic design gig in LA. The shop has outlets at Hotel Condesa DF and its products are carried by stores in Puebla and Tulum.

La Fonda del Recuerdo is one of those places (though not uncommon in Mexico City) where the servers are still called waiters and they dress like it: white button-down shirts topped with black vests, matched with black trousers. Everything here is traditional—from the food, which is Mexican with a special emphasis on the gastronomy from Veracruz—to the entertainment served up during your meal. Mariachis roam among the tables, serenading patrons with a full complement of instruments. Maybe it all sounds gimmicky and touristy, but that’s not the vibe here at all, as the tables full of Mexican businessmen and businesswomen enjoying leisurely late lunches attest. Try the tacos sudados. Though the translation (“sweaty tacos”) may not sound appetizing, these delicious tacos are so-named because they are “sweated” during cooking in clay pots.

On any given Sunday, a multitude of Mexico City parks find themselves playing host to groups of dance aficionados, who gather together to practice their steps in a jovial, non-judgmental atmosphere. But perhaps no park has a better Sunday scene than Plaza La Ciudadela, right in front of La Ciudadela craft market, where live music typically accompanies dancers of all ages, each of them dressed to the nines in their Sunday dancing best. Women wear flowers in their hair and men sport feathers in their hats. Shoes—and hair—are polished to a brilliant sheen, and the most courteous of exchanges are shared as people ask one another for a dance. If you’re without your own dancing shoes, a group of vendors who line the plaza’s edge can supply you on the spot. Don’t be afraid to join in; you won’t find a friendlier bunch of folks to dance with.

More than 10 years in the making, the Museo de la Memoria y Tolerancia (Museum of Memory and Tolerance) may seem somewhat out of place if you don’t know much about Mexico City‘s immigrant population and the capital’s role in Jewish history... and that’s one reason the museum is worth a visit. In addition to explaining how the city’s Jewish population burgeoned during the mid-20th-century, and, of course, memorializing the Holocaust, the museum features permanent exhibits documenting genocides that have occurred elsewhere, including Latin America and Africa. Themes are somber, of course, but the aim is to prevent future episodes from occurring by educating visitors about the importance of memory and tolerance.

You have a few different options when it comes to stopping for a coffee at The Shops at Downtown, the retail complex inside Hotel Downtown in Mexico City‘s Centro Histórico. There’s the hotel’s own restaurant, which offers comfortable chairs and couches; the chocolate purveyor Que Bo!, which also serves espresso drinks; or one of the several restaurants and cafés in the complex, among them Padrinos, Azul Histórico, and Café Punta del Cielo. Take your pick–no matter where you end up in the center, you’ll find yourself surrounded by a 17th-century building with volcanic walls and lots of history.

Never has a yummy treat been mired in such controversy as the Whoopie Pie. First, how did this burger-shaped cake with the sugary cream filling get its name? Does the name come from the exclamation that schoolchildren shouted upon opening their lunch bags to discover these delights? Or does it come from the Amish farmers, who were rewarded with these portable “pies” in their lunch boxes? My vote (and Pennsylvania Dutch lore) favors the school kids. But wait—there’s more controversy! While I am one hundred percent certain that these little cakes called pies originated in my lovely state of Pennsylvania, it seems that the state of Maine has also laid claim to their origin, even going so far as to name the Whoopie Pie as its “official state treat.” Other research points to somewhere in New York state as their birthplace. We may never know… There was a time not long ago when Whoopie Pies felt much like a prized local secret because no one outside of Pennsylvania had ever heard of them (excepting, I guess, some of those Mainers). These days, though, you can even find Whoopie Pies in the bakery sections at Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods. But the most authentic and delicious version can only be found at the Amish bakery Beiler’s in the Reading Terminal Market. My personal favorite is the pumpkin flavor, but the chocolate is also delicious. Or maybe try the oatmeal, or the red velvet. Better yet, try one of each—they’re portable!

This tiny café serves up some of Mexico City’s tastiest breakfasts alongside impeccable coffee. A year and a half out from its opening, it was the first place in town to offer Japanese-siphon-extracted brews. They’re also into methods like dipper and French press; choose from Veracruz, Oaxaca or Chiapas varieties, and even take home some beans. Naturally, with the joe at this level, there’s got to be breakfast of equal caliber; the beet hummus (with poached egg) and the berry French toast are current faves. That said, the menu never, ever bores.

This has to be the most colorful thing I’ve ever seen in a cemetery. In the town of Dolores Hidalgo in central Mexico, singer José Alfredo Jiménez (1926-1973), “El Rey,” is memorialized by this sombrero-and-serape tomb. The names of some of his many hit songs are inlaid in the mosaic bands. Death be not proud...

Located in the Railyard District, the friendly and efficient La Choza (Spanish for “the shed”) doles out traditional New Mexican fare. Start with the satisfying posole (a hominy). Try the stuffed sopapillas with an earthy red chile, and classic huevos rancheros. Don’t be afraid to sample the hearty, non-traditional green chili clam chowder. The series of dining rooms are peppered with local art, and while you wait for your order, don’t miss the ample tequila list.

The beef goes back centuries, and will never be entirely resolved: what are the true origins of pisco, a grape-based, aguardiente distillate that became a national symbol of Chile…and Peru. To end the conflict, the people behind this bar and restaurant invented a new, independent republic dedicated to Pisco that is known as Chipe Libre. Inside a vast Lastarria mansion, this imaginary state unites lands in southern Peru and northern Chile, in obeisance to a sole monarch, pisco. The bar features a good 100 labels and cocktails like “Pisco’s in the Air,” made with lime juice, raspberry, papaya and basil; plus a full range of what are among Santiago’s best traditional sours. Standout food include the crunchy-seafood saltado (marinated and grilled beef strips), with mango, served on a sizzling grill; the joint’s star sandwich, El Presidente, is a solid slice of roast beef, fried egg, and shoestring potatoes. To avoid any sovereignty disputes, Chipe Libre flies its red-and-black, center-starred flag as the republic’s national colors.

In early April, I spent a week on a yoga retreat at Amansala in Tulum, Mexico. We had four hours of yoga and Pilates practice a day, and I spent the rest of my time on the beach, swimming in the ocean, reading books (I finished Gabrielle Hamilton’s excellent memoir, Blood, Bones, and Butter), drinking coconut juice, and snacking on delicious homemade tortillas, salad, salsas, and guacamole. At night we ventured out to explore, and discovered a wonderful new open-air restaurant called Hartwood, where I wish I could eat every night.