The weight of a Michelin star complicates life for Mexico’s famous taquería Califa de León

Two hours before its opening in University Park, Dallas, there was already a line stretching more than two blocks in front of El Califa de León, the renowned Mexican taqueria with a Michelin star. Expectations were sky high for the restaurant, the original of which is based in Mexico City and last year received one of the highest accolades in the culinary world. The opening was part of a temporary collaboration with a company called GrinGO, scheduled to run from October 17th to 25th. But what was meant to be a strategic, unique, and exclusive culinary experience to showcase the “flavor and quality” of a traditional gaonera taco, the restaurant’s signature dish, turned into a disastrous affair in which diners had to wait for hours for service that, in some cases, they never received. Mario Hernández, owner of the business founded in 1968, had to make the difficult decision to close the Texas pop-up venture just 48 hours after opening and retire before his company’s reputation was damaged. The Michelin star, awarded in May 2024, opened an international showcase for him, but it also placed upon him the weight of responsibility that comes with meeting expectations and adhering to quality standards.

“For us, it’s a great joy and a great responsibility,” Hernández told local media gathered at the opening. However, complaints began to mount between the second and third day. Some people waited five to seven hours only to find they didn’t receive the food they had been waiting for. Others made reservations through apps for a specific time, only to receive an order of three tacos two hours later. There were also those who complained about the price of the food. The gaonera taco, which is made with whole beef steak; the chuleta (pork chop) taco; or the costilla (beef rib) taco, all cooked on a griddle with just salt and a squeeze of lime, were sold for $10, $9, and $12, respectively. That’s almost double or triple—depending on the choice of meat—the price in the capital.

Several factors contributed to Califa de León’s first fiasco outside of Mexico. One of the main ones was a gas leak that forced the postponement of service on the second day. This problem wasn’t properly communicated, so many people were unaware and arrived at the restaurant only to find it closed. With the issue resolved, the restaurant reopened on the third day, but the number of people left waiting from the previous day continued to grow, forcing the kitchen to shut down for several hours to restock and prepare the food.

“We paid $340 for a reservation for four. It included an appetizer, four Michelin-star tacos, a dessert, and drinks. We received two tacos. The gaonera taco was very dry, and I liked the rib taco, but they were cold. It was clear they were short-staffed and should have prepared better,” says Amanda J., a diner who visited the restaurant.

The culinary venture in Texas was organized by GrinGO, a safety and travel app for American and Canadian tourists in Mexico. Hernández says he has no complaints about the professionalism of the person in charge of the pop-up store that brought El Califa de León to Dallas. He admits it received good promotion on social media, radio, and television. However, he acknowledges that his partner, whose name he declined to reveal, lacked foresight in the operational aspects. EL PAÍS contacted GrinGO, but had not received a response by the time of publication.

“We weren’t properly prepared, and we didn’t take into account the extraordinary response we received from our customers. My wife noticed and told me, ‘Hey, people are really messing with the name of El Califa.’ I took it to heart and said, ‘Okay, you’re absolutely right. We shouldn’t be playing with the name like this, and the best thing to do is cancel, with all due respect, because we didn’t have the necessary tools to get through this,’” Hernández stated over the phone.

In Mexico City, El Califa de León has become an international landmark on Ribera de San Cosme Avenue, a famous spot in the capital, in the San Rafael neighborhood, known for the semi-permanent tianguis (open-air market) that occupies most of the south side of the street. The first thing that catches the eye upon entering his small shop, which has remained in the same location for almost 70 years, are the two Michelin Guide signs highlighting the award received in 2024, and confirming this year that it is the only taco stand in the world with the coveted star. The lines aren’t as long as last year, but the clients still pack the place on any given Thursday at lunchtime. The cuts of meat are on display, and explanations are available in both English and Spanish for local customers and those arriving from out of town.

Facing the griddle where the cuts of meat are cooked, seasoned with coarse salt and a squeeze of lime juice, and where the tortillas are also made to order, a Japanese man, a Puerto Rican couple, and an American customer wait for their order. The three agree that the tacos lived up to their expectations.

Andrés “Peluche” Torres, an expert taster of garnachas—Mexican street food—and content creator, believes that one of the positive aspects of recognition like the one bestowed by the Michelin Guide is the added value it places on the work of everyone behind this business and the street food industry. “Most Mexicans value this type of food, but what this kind of recognition allows is for other cultures and social classes to recognize it and venture to try it. Furthermore, I feel it’s important that people from outside the area or other neighborhoods also see what’s out there beyond certain traditional neighborhoods where the food is usually acknowledged,” he explains by phone.

Celebrities are also regulars at this establishment. Paco Ayala, bassist and one of the vocalists of the rock band Molotov, believes the Michelin recognition is well-deserved. He says he’s a frequent customer and that what he likes most are the quality of the meat and the sauces—the traditional fresh green and the red—which “are still delicious.” He doesn’t feel that the recognition has caused a drop in quality or customer service.

Mercedes Hinojosa, a sociologist and professor at UNAM, emphasizes that, ultimately, cuisine is a dynamic and social experience. It’s a matter of taste, she explains, which is related to one’s own perspective, experiences, biology, taste buds, personal preferences, or memories. She agrees with Torres that the Michelin Guide continues to fulfill its objective of attracting “bourgeois consumption” and encouraging travel, but cautions that it’s important to ensure the award doesn’t only validate certain types of food.

“Mexican cuisine is very diverse and also very dynamic. It has always reinvented itself. A negative aspect would be precisely establishing a standard that aestheticizes and standardizes all food. It is important to recognize and celebrate the culinary diversity of the country; the pozole we eat in the city center is not the same as the pozole eaten further north. The Michelin star has a positive side, but for me, the negative side would be establishing the stars as a standard for what food should be, as a homogenization of what we eat,” Hernández adds by phone.

Hernández is aware of the pressure he’s under. His family’s goal is to keep the star for as long as possible. But despite this latest setback, he’s also ambitious: “To win another star, not just keep the one. That’s my goal, and the goal of the people who work with me. That’s the challenge we face right now. It’s a great responsibility.”

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