The comedor that converted my picky eight-year-old

Traveling with kids means you eat where tolerance meets quality, and that intersection is usually empty. La Milpa is the glorious exception.

It's a family comedor two blocks off the Jardín: plastic chairs, oilcloth tables, a señora pressing tortillas to order at a comal you can watch. My eight-year-old — a child who once cried about pesto — watched her press his quesadilla, ate it, and asked for another. The abuela running the room high-fived him. This is the content I travel for.

The cochinita taco is the sleeper hit and the salsa verde deserves its local reputation: bright, hot but not showing off, spooned over everything. Lunch for four with aguas frescas came to about 320 pesos.

Go at one o'clock, before the comida rush. Kids eat free-range here; nobody blinks.