Can foreigners handle the heat? Mexico City debates milder salsas.

Gerardo Medina runs Taquería Los Amigos, a 24-hour stand at a busy intersection in an upscale neighborhood in Mexico City.

As more customers from abroad started eating his tacos, he began to notice similar reactions piece of meat from gallo: red faces, sweat, complaints about the spiciness.

So Mr. Medina, 30, got rid of the serrano peppers, leaving only tomatoes, onions and cilantro. Although he still has a avocado salsa with serrano and a red salsa with morita chili peppers and chiles de árbol, he wanted to offer a non-spicy option for international visitors who are not used to intense heat.

“It attracts more people,” he said.

Chilies are fundamental to Mexican cuisine and, in turn, to the country’s identity. Mexicans put them, often in the form of salsas, on everything: tacos, seafood, chips, fruit, beer, and yes, even sorbet.

“Food that isn’t spicy is practically not good food for most Mexicans,” said Isaac Palacios, 37, a Mexico City resident, after eating tacos doused in salsa.

But since the pandemic, the nation’s capital — with a metropolitan area of ​​23 million people, a temperate climate and rich cultural offerings — has become wildly popular as a tourist destination and as a new home for international transplants who can work remotely and whose incomes in dollars or euros make the city more affordable. (Americans make up the largest group.)

This has made gentrification inevitable in certain neighborhoods.

English is often heard on the streets. Rents have skyrocketed. Boutiques and coffee shops are becoming more common.

But another major manifestation of this international shift — the lower temperature of salsas in some of the city’s many taquerías — has sparked consternation among Mexicans and debate over the extent to which they should adapt to the outside world.

What’s good for business may not be good for the Mexican psyche.

“It’s bad,” said Gustavo Miranda, 39, a Mexico City resident, after eating tacos with coworkers. “If you don’t want it to be spicy, don’t use it. If you turn down the heat on a salsa, it’s a dressing. It’s not salsa anymore.”

The influx of new foreign residents has been a boon to certain Mexico City neighborhoods, such as Roma, Condesa and Polanco. These neighborhoods feature lush, tree-lined streets and lively shops and restaurants.

Taquerias that have toned down their salsas said they want to be more welcoming to people with different tolerance levels, not just Americans but also Europeans and even customers from other Latin American countries where the cuisine is not as spicy.

Jorge Campos, 39, the manager of El Compita, a taco shop that opened a year ago in the heart of Rome, said the taquería had toned down the spiciness of one of the three dishes on the table — a charred tomato-based salsa — by using more jalapeños and fewer habanero peppers.

International customers, he said, sometimes sent tacos back because the salsas burned their mouths. Because the other salsas are inherently spicier — the red is made almost entirely from chile de árbol, while the green contains serrano peppers — they’ve modified the charred salsa to make it easier for some diners.

“You give them a range of options, and because they know it themselves, they say, ‘OK, I’ll try the medium,’” said Campos, who added that waiters typically explain the spiciness to people from abroad.

A few taco shops have even started labeling their salsas with a spiciness indicator, partly to help customers who don’t speak Spanish. One red flame equals fairly tame; five red flames means you should be careful.

At Los Juanes, a popular taco stand that sets up shop every night on a sidewalk in Roma Norte, an employee, Adolfo Santos Antonio, 22, said staff started toning down the spiciness of one of their three salsas — using more jalapeños and avocado, and fewer serrano peppers — after international customers commented on how spicy it was.

But not all taco restaurants felt the need to satisfy the taste buds of multinational corporations.

Guadalupe Carrillo, 84, manager of Taquería Los Parados in Roma Sur, which has been in business for nearly 60 years, says the salsa recipes haven’t changed in the three decades she’s worked there, despite the growing influx of non-Mexicans.

“Foreigners need to learn our customs and tastes,” she said. “Just like when we go there and eat hamburgers or something that’s not spicy.”

Janelle Lee, 46, who recently visited Mexico City from Chicago with her husband, said she simply couldn’t handle spicy food. Still, she added, she didn’t expect taquerías to tailor their salsas to people like her.

“They need to keep who they are, the culture they have and their food,” she said.

Mexico City’s bad salsa culture has become a hot topic on social media, raising fears of a changing city.

Carmen Fuentes León, 29, a Tijuana-born DJ and social media influencer who often posts about food and lives in San Diego, made waves on social media this year after a two-week visit to Mexico City, where she said she ate tacos for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Her conclusion? Some salsas weren’t spicy. The culprits? People from abroad.

“I am in Mexico City as a victim of gentrification,” she said in a video on TikTok criticism of the salsas at the taco chain El Califa, which has locations in many affluent parts of the city.

Ms. Fuentes said in colorful terms that if Americans didn’t like the salsas, they should go home and eat the less spicy varieties.

The video has been viewed 2.3 million times so far and has generated nearly 5,000 comments, many of which have been positive.

Ms. Fuentes said in an interview that she recorded the video because she was “very frustrated” that she couldn’t get the heat she wanted, noting that she eventually found spicier sauces. — but outside the most gentrified neighborhoods.

Sergio Goyri Álvarez, 41, whose father started the El Califa chain 30 years ago, said that although the peppers used in the five salsas Although their spiciness could vary depending on the harvest, their salsa recipes “had not changed.”

He said the fifth salsa was added recently. It’s made with habaneros and is aimed specifically at Mexicans who like it spicy and find the chain’s options not spicy enough.

El Califa has done other things to cater to foreigners, however. Mr. Goyri said the chain has started offering menus (with photos) in English and has added vegetarian tacos (soy, pea protein or grain), which have been a hit with global customers.

“We provide services to these foreigners,” he said, “but we do not change our spirit or our DNA to surf this wave of foreigners.”

Adrián Hernández Cordero, 39, who heads the sociology department at the Metropolitan Autonomous University in Mexico City and gentrification and foodsaid that international influences were given an inordinate amount of attention in the salsa debate.

Some dishes have also become milder in the past decade as Mexicans, especially in urban areas, have become aware that spicy food contributes to intestinal problems.

“It is very easy, especially on social media, to blame the problem on foreigners,” he said, “while we do not see that the situation is much more complex.”

Tom Griffey, 34, a Boston native who moved to Mexico City in 2019 after falling under his spell while visiting a friend and works remotely as a data engineer, said he usually reaches for the hottest salsa and even if he burns his mouth, he’ll never complain about it.

“I try to adapt as much as possible,” said Mr. Griffey, who speaks Spanish and has a Mexican partner.

At Taquería Los Amigos, Mr. Medina doesn’t speak much English, but he said he at least warns visitors by pointing to the seasonings and saying “spicy” or “not spicy.”

Lately he’s been experimenting more with less spicy dishes and introducing sweeter options, such as caramelized onions with pineapple juice.

Next time? Maybe a mango salsa.