Pipicha Santa: Two People, Ten Seats, and a Tostada to Remember
There are restaurants where you go to eat, and then there are restaurants where, almost immediately, you feel as though you've been invited into someone's family.
Pipicha Santa: two people, ten seats, and a whole country of family recipes
There are restaurants where you go to eat, and then there are restaurants where, almost immediately, you feel as though you've been invited into someone's family.
Pipicha Santa is the latter.
Tucked into a tiny space on Avenida Baja California in Hipódromo, it is essentially an open kitchen with an L-shaped bar and around ten seats. There is a small table in the back, but the heart of the restaurant is the counter, where married chefs Anita Pereyra and Jonathan Rodríguez cook directly in front of you.



A grill, prep area and even the washing-up sink are squeezed into this tiny space. It is slightly crazy what they manage to produce from it, and incredible to watch.
Pipicha calls itself “Cocina Mexicana de Familia,” and that really does capture the feeling. The servers feel like they might be an uncle, and the woman doing the washing in the tiny corner sink could be an aunt. The service is not polished, but every dish is delivered with pride and care. I adored the intimacy of the place.
Anita and Jonathan bring together their family histories and home regions, Monterrey and Veracruz, with ingredients from across Mexico. Their philosophy is seasonal, organic and local, but sitting there it feels less like a philosophy and more like two people who know how to choose beautiful ingredients and cook them with care.
To begin, they brought us a little gift from the kitchen: fresh fava beans (yup- we’re that lucky), lightly sautéed with what I think was salsa morita and browned butter, apple vinegar and a delicate sprinkle of rose petals. It was my kind of gift and it made me very happy.
We had come for the tostadas de aguachile rojo. Noah had seen a picture of them online and wanted to try them.
They stole the show.
Three handmade corn tostadas topped with fatty Baja tuna belly, avocado, cucumber, mango and pickled onion, with a smoky red aguachile.
The tuna was incredible, like butter. I know it's a cliché, but it’s true. It was so pale and fatty that I actually thought it might be hamachi. It was, without question, the best dish we ate. I could rave for a few minutes about it, but you get the picture.

Next up were the Flautas Mario. Fried flour tortillas filled with refried beans and barbacoa-style beef from Rancho El 17, sitting over a creamy chile de árbol sauce with avocado, lettuce, sour cream and pickled red onion.
As Anita served them and described the dish, I could swear I heard a little crackle in her voice when she explained that the recipe came from her father, who died six years ago. It felt emotional accepting the dish and an honor to eat.

We also had the Camarones Envarasados: blue shrimp from Sinaloa, grilled over coconut charcoal with an al pastor marinade, grilled pineapple, criollo cilantro, pico de gallo and a shrimp-garlic vinaigrette, served with soft criollo corn tortillas from Tlaxcala. It sounds like a lot, but it was delicious.

We also ordered the Brocolí Azteca, which turned out not to be broccoli at all but huauzontles, one of Mexico's traditional quelites. I kept staring at them, trying to understand what they had done to turn broccoli into this. Only now, looking it up online, do I realise it was an entirely different vegetable. What a lot of wine-infused brainpower I wasted pondering that one.
The huauzontles were fried in a tempura made from criollo corn pinole and served with a sweet-and-sour dried-chile sauce and herby tzatziki. It was a very funky dish, not necessarily in a bad way. Earthy, green and crunchy.

What stayed with us as we walked home was how clearly ambitious Anita and Jonathan are, yet there is nothing slick or fancy about the experience. It’s a family place, with darn good food. You can see that they are striving, trying to get better, pushing themselves and caring deeply about what they put on the plate. There is something lovely about witnessing that kind of care.
But most importantly, I would definitely go out of my way to go back for those tostadas.
PIPICHA SANTA
Where: Avenida Baja California 365, Hipódromo, Mexico City.
Chefs: Anita Pereyra and Jonathan Rodríguez, a married couple whose cooking draws on their family histories and home regions of Monterrey and Veracruz.
The concept: Cocina Mexicana de Familia — Mexican family cooking, with an emphasis on seasonal, organic ingredients and producers from around Mexico.
The space: A tiny open kitchen with around 10 seats, an L-shaped counter and a small room at the back.
Reservations: Their website says reservations are a must, although we simply popped in when we were there. It was early, so we got lucky. I wouldn't count on that at a busier time.
Omakase: Most of the other diners were doing the tasting menu. Pipicha offers six- and nine-course omakase experiences, built around whatever seasonal ingredients are coming through the kitchen. I was getting over a stomach bug, so we went à la carte, which actually suited us. We could pick the dishes we wanted and spend time watching Anita and Jonathan work.
Allow time: This is not a place to rush through dinner. The dishes come out slowly because they take great care with them. Sit back, have a drink and enjoy watching the kitchen.
Price: Fairly expensive for Mexico City, particularly if you do the tasting menu, so go knowing this is a splurge rather than a casual neighbourhood dinner.
Pipicha: The restaurant takes its name from pipicha, an aromatic Mexican herb and quelite, reflecting their interest in traditional Mexican plants and lesser-known ingredients.
The food: Their menu moves around Mexico, with ingredients including blue shrimp from Sinaloa, criollo corn from Tlaxcala and chiltepín from Veracruz.
Vegetarian options: There is a substantial vegetarian and vegan selection, including dishes using traditional Mexican greens and quelites.







