I went to the marcado for breakfast this morning, quesedillas de papas y chorizo, and polo con queso. Damn fine. I was also able to score some melon agua, something I haven't had since I left El Paso. Deciphering the menu, placing my order, and paying was made awkward by the language barrier though.
On that note, I've alway been irritated watching folks attempt to communicate with a non-English speaking person by talking very slowly, and very loudly. Not to slag my own country, (there are plenty of others around to do that for me), but I thought this practice was uniquely American. I was wrong. Surprisingly, it was not irritating to be on the receiving end, it was kind of funny.