It’s 7:30 PM at 50 Friends in Polanco, and the air smells like garlic, rosemary, and melted mozzarella. A group of locals laughs over a shared plate of chocolate pizza, its dark, fudgy crust studded with sea salt and a drizzle of honey. This isn’t your nonna’s pizza—it’s a dessert that tastes like a Neapolitan rebellion. I’ve been here twice this month, and each visit feels like stepping into a warm, wood-paneled cave where the only rule is to order the tiramisu.
Fifteen blocks south, Lucca Pedregal opens at 1 PM. The hostess leads me to a table under a skylight, where the prosciutto pizza arrives with slices of cured ham fanned over a thin crust, drizzled with olive oil and finished with a sprinkle of oregano. At 580 MXN, it’s not cheap, but the salt-and-oil balance is perfect—like biting into a sun-drenched summer day. Regulars here talk about the caprese pasta (480 MXN), a nest of al dente spaghetti tangled with cherry tomatoes, fresh mozzarella, and basil so bright it tastes like it was picked minutes ago.
50 Friends’ owners clearly studied in Naples. Their margherita pizza (380 MXN) uses San Marzano tomatoes and buffalo mozzarella, and the crust puffs up into golden bubbles during baking. One reviewer here raves, "It’s like eating a perfect bite of air and fire." The wine list leans Mexican—try the Casa de Piedra cabernet sauvignon (250 MXN/glass)—but the real showstopper is the stracciatella ice cream (160 MXN), which melts into a pool of chocolate sauce on the table.
At Lucca, the truffle risotto (420 MXN) is served in a cast-iron pot, its creamy rice studded with black truffle shavings that taste like earth and luxury. A regular tells me, "This is the only place in CDMX where I’d bring a date for a first kiss." The lunch rush here ends at 3 PM, but the terrace stays lively until 12 AM, lit by string lights that turn the whole place into a glowing goldfish bowl.
Both spots share an old-world charm that feels imported but never copied. At 50 Friends, the waitstaff wears navy aprons and calls tables "our families." At Lucca, the chef still makes his own pasta dough every morning at 5 AM. When you taste their carbonara (450 MXN), you can almost hear the slap of his rolling pin against the counter.
