The restaurant I anticipated most on my Mexico City trip was Quintonil. A two Michelin-star restaurant, it has earned virtually every accolade imaginable. It was awarded two Michelin stars in 2025, is currently ranked No. 3 on The World’s 50 Best Restaurants list, making it the highest-ranked restaurant in North America, and is widely regarded as one of the defining forces in modern Mexican cuisine. Naturally, I booked it for my birthday dinner.
Chef Jorge Vallejo opened Quintonil in 2012 with his wife, Alejandra Flores, in the fashionable Polanco neighbourhood. Before opening his own restaurant, Vallejo worked under renowned chef Enrique Olvera at Pujol and trained in acclaimed kitchens in France and Spain. His philosophy is to showcase the extraordinary biodiversity of Mexico, allowing each ingredient to shine at its seasonal peak. The restaurant’s name comes from quintonil, a native Mexican leafy green that grows wild throughout the country and perfectly symbolizes his commitment to local, seasonal ingredients.
I have to admit, I was surprised by the restaurant itself. Given its worldwide reputation, I expected something far more memorable. The dining room is long and narrow, divided into a front and back room, with the open kitchen located in the rear. We were seated in the front room, which felt disconnected from the energy of the kitchen and, if I’m being honest, somewhat forgotten. The design is understated, featuring natural wood, stone, soft lighting and touches of greenery, all intended to create a calm, minimalist atmosphere. There are a handful of coveted counter seats overlooking the kitchen, although judging by how warm our room became, I suspect they can get quite hot. Overall, I found the space looking tired and surprisingly uninspiring for a restaurant of this stature. It feels overdue for a refresh.
The tasting menu is an ambitious celebration of Mexico’s culinary heritage interpreted through modern techniques. Corn, beans, herbs, seafood, vegetables and native fruits all play starring roles. One hallmark of Quintonil is its embrace of pre-Hispanic ingredients, particularly edible insects, which have long been part of traditional Mexican cuisine.
Just in case nobody warns you, I will.
Five of the courses incorporated ants, larvae, grasshoppers or other flying insects. I have no problem trying unusual ingredients, and I generally eat just about anything. Had they enhanced the dishes, I would have happily embraced the experience. Unfortunately, I didn’t find that to be the case.
The food simply wasn’t very good.
Many dishes were over-salted, the presentations lacked the refinement I expected from one of the world’s top restaurants, and the pacing was painfully slow. At one point, we waited approximately 45 minutes between courses. It honestly felt like watching paint dry.
The highlights of the evening were the tamale, the duck and an outstanding crème fraîche ice cream. Beyond those, very little left a lasting impression. One fish course consisted of nothing more than a piece of fish topped with a brown, overly salty sauce. It was astonishingly underwhelming.
Then came perhaps the most theatrical moment of the evening. After the main course, several wooden boxes were brought to the table displaying the various insects we had just eaten. It certainly made for a dramatic presentation, but it was also the only real theatrical flourish of the evening. Even I found it more unsettling than exciting.
Service also fell well short of expectations. We began with cocktails, which were excellent, but after that the sommelier disappeared entirely. No one ever returned to ask whether we wanted wine with our tasting menu. At a restaurant of this calibre—and with a two Michelin-star designation—that simply shouldn’t happen.
I left genuinely puzzled. This is supposedly the third-best restaurant in the world, yet I struggled to understand why. While I appreciate Chef Vallejo’s commitment to celebrating Mexican ingredients and recognize his enormous influence on contemporary Mexican cuisine, the execution simply didn’t justify the accolades for me.
I can’t, in good conscience, recommend Quintonil.
Happy dining,
Shanea
07/22/2026
