Mexico Cooks!

Chile Poblano Strips with Onion, Corn Kernels, and Cream, A Classic of the Mexican Kitchen :: Rajas de Chile Poblano

Delicious and eaten at any time of the year, rajas de chile poblano con crema, cebolla, y elote (strips of poblano chile with cream, onion, and young tender corn) is the perfect dish for a Lenten Friday!

The mild-to-not-so-mild chile poblano is one of the most commonly used fresh chiles in Mexico's kitchen.  A very large, fleshy chile, it can measure as much as seven or eight inches long.  The stem end is much wider than the point, and the color ranges from dark green to almost black-green. Shopping tip: if you buy chiles poblano that are flat on all sides, they will roast more quickly than if they are deeply creased in spots.  The flat sides will evenly touch the roasting surface.

The chile poblano is commonly used for preparing main dishes such as chiles rellenos, including the seasonal and festive chiles en nogada.  It is also used for making rajas de chile poblano con crema (strips of chile poblano with cream), a marvelously flavorful vegetable side dish.  All photos by Mexico Cooks! unless otherwise noted.


Chiles poblano roasted with skin removed, showing the interior of the opened chile (left) and the exterior (right).  These are two of the four chiles I used to prepare this dish. To prepare chiles poblanos for use in any recipe, wash and roast them.  Don't try to use them with the peel on; the peels will be as tough as trying to chew through plastic.  Mexico Cooks! uses a cast iron comal (griddle) placed over a high flame to roast as many as four to six chiles at a time.  Other cooks prefer to roast these chiles one or two at a time over an open flame, or on a broiler pan in a slightly open oven. No matter which roasting method you use, the roasted chiles should look like the ones in the above photo.

Once the chiles are roasted, put them in a plastic bag, twist it shut, and allow the chiles to 'sweat' for 10 to 15 minutes.  You'll easily be able to remove the blackened peels.  It's best not to rinse them--or rinse them only a little--as rinsing removes a good bit of the delicious chile poblano flavor.  


The slit-open chiles with the seeds still inside.  At the foreground of the photo, you can see that I removed the stem with the bulk of the seeds.  Simply cut around the stem and pull it and the seeds out of the chile.


Two of the chiles still on the cutting board, with one of my 60+-year-old Sabatier carbon steel knives.  


All four chiles, seeded and cut into rajas (strips about 3" long and less than 1/2" wide).


Half of a large white onion, thinly sliced and ready to sauté. The ingredients include half a white onion, sliced very thin, and about half a cup of fresh (or canned) white or yellow corn kernels.


Sauté the onions in oil first, until they are soft and translucent.  Then add the rajas and continue to sauté until they are soft, but still have a bit of crispness.


Add the corn and continue to sauté briefly.


Add Mexican crema de mesa (table cream, not sour cream) if you can find it.  Crema Aguascalientes is the one I prefer to use.  If Mexican table cream isn't available, use sour cream instead. 


Salt to taste and let the cream and vegetables simmer briefly. The cream will become a thick sauce for the vegetables.  The chile poblano is generally quite mild and flavorful, but once in a while you will come across one that is surprisingly spicy.  There's no way to tell by looking at them whether they are mild or hot, and either way they're delicious and not overly 'hot'.

The recipe as you see it written here, using four large chiles, will serve 3 to 4 people as a side dish.  It's excellent served hot or at room temperature.  I've never met anyone who doesn't love rajas de chile poblano served this way!

Provecho! (Good eating!)

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More Marvelous Meatless Meals for Lent!

Atole de grano, a Michoacán specialty made of tender young corn and wild, licorice-scented anisillo, is a perfect cena (supper) for Lenten Fridays.


Tortitas de papa (potato croquettes, left) and frijoles negros (black beans, right) from the state of Chiapas in far-southern Mexico are ideal for a Lenten meal.

Roman Catholic Mexicans observe la Cuaresma (Lent), the 40-day (excluding Sundays) penitential season that precedes Easter, with special prayers, vigils, and with extraordinary meatless meals cooked only on Ash Wednesday and during all Lenten Fridays.  Many Mexican dishes--seafood, vegetable, and egg--are normally prepared without meat, but some other meatless dishes are particular to Lent. Known as comida cuaresmeña, many of these delicious Lenten foods are little-known outside Mexico and some other parts of Latin America.

Many observant Catholics believe that the personal reflection and meditation demanded by Lenten practices are more fruitful if the individual refrains from heavy food indulgence and makes a promise to abstain from other common habits such as eating candy, smoking cigarettes, and drinking alcohol.  

Lent began this year on February 18, Ash Wednesday.  Shortly before, certain food specialties began to appear in local markets. Vendors are currently offering very large dried shrimp for caldos (broths) and tortitas (croquettes), perfect heads of cauliflower for tortitas de coliflor (cauliflower croquettes), seasonal romeritos, and thick, dried slices of bolillo (small loaves of white bread) for capirotada (a kind of bread pudding). 

This common Lenten preparation is romeritos en mole.  Romeritos, a slightly acidic green vegetable, is in season at this time of year.  Although it looks a little like rosemary, it has the texture of a succulent and its taste is relatively sour, more like verdolagas (purslane).


Beautiful fresh romeritos at a market in Morelia, Michoacán.

You'll usually see tortitas de camarón (dried shrimp croquettes) paired for a Friday comida (midday meal) with romeritos en mole, although they are sometimes bathed in a caldillo de jitomate (tomato broth) and served with grilled and sliced nopalitos (cactus paddles).


During Lent, the price of fish and seafood in Mexico goes through the roof due to the huge seasonal demand for meatless meals.  These beautiful huachinango (red snapper) come from Mexico's Pacific coast.


Caldo de habas secas (dry fava bean soup), delicious and thick even though meatless, warms you up from the inside as if your days are still frigid at the beginning of Lent.  Easter Sunday marks the end of Lent; this year, Easter falls on Sunday, April 17.


Uchepos (fresh corn tamales) and other ingredients used to make chiles rellenos de uchepos, a meat-free dish typically from Michoacán.  Split open roasted, seeded, and peeled chiles poblanos.  Then remove the green (not dried) corn husks from the uchepos and break them into medium-size pieces to stuff the chiles.


The completed chiles poblanos rellenos de uchepos.  These are often bathed in a creamy white sauce just prior to serving.  

Chef Martín Rafael Mendizabal of La Trucha Alegre in Zitacuaro, Michoacán, prepared trucha deshuesada con agridulce de guayaba (boned trout with guava sweet and sour sauce) for the V Encuentro de Cocina Tradicional de Michoacán held in Morelia in December 2008.  The dish would be ideal for an elegant Lenten dinner.


Caldo de fideos--angel hair pasta cooked in a thin tomato broth.  This delicious soup is a wonderful first course to a Lenten comida.


Classic chiles rellenos can be stuffed with shrimp, cheese, tuna fish, mashed potatoes, or anything meatless that sounds good to you.  Served with black beans and a thin caldillo (tomato broth), these are simple to prepare and truly delicious.

Last week's Mexico Cooks! was all about capirotada--a classic dessert here in Mexico during Lent.  Look back at Mexico Cooks! for March 12, 2022 and prepare this dessert for your family and friends.  Everyone will be delighted.

Try very hard not to eat the entire cazuela of capirotada at one sitting!

A positive thought for this Lenten season--and God knows we need a positive thought right now: give up discouragement, be an optimist.

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Capirotada :: Traditional Dessert for Lent in Mexico

Pouring miel de piloncillo (spiced raw brown sugar syrup) over the second layer of capirotada.  The cazuela (clay dish) measures about 14" in diameter at the top.

Capirotada is the iconic Mexican dessert during Lent.  It has its origins as long ago as the fourth century, in Rome.  The history of the Roman dish is similar, but the dish itself is completely different from the capirotada we know in Mexico today.  The list of Roman ingredients included bread soaked in vinegar and water, layers of chicken livers, capers, cucumber, and cheese.  Only two of the ingredients that the Romans used 1600 years ago are the same as the ones we use today: slices of bread, and cheese--and even the cheese is optional today.  


The cofradía Siervo de la Nación (association members of the Nation's Servant) makes the silent, many blocks long pilgrimage over Morelia's main street on Viernes Santo (Good Friday).  The groups of the cofradías all walk in similar costume; each cloak may be a different color, but their sole purpose is to give anonymity to each individual in the group as they walk the length of this profoundly spiritual and humble procession.

Even the name capirotada has an unusual origin.  It's derived from the word "capirote", the tall pointed hat that is part of the cloak used by the cofradías (religious individuals who form a church-associated group with pious ends) as they walk the Procesión del Silencio on Good Friday evening.  The Procesión del Silencio takes place in cities and towns all over Mexico and in Spain.


The primary ingredients for capirotada.  Clockwise from nine o'clock: toasted peanuts, 2 large cones of piloncillo, Mexican stick cinnamon, raisins, fresh orange peel, whole allspice, anise seeds, cloves--and in the center, finely diced acitrón.


Here's the queso fresco I bought for the capirotada.  It's a milder flavor than the queso Cotija. This small cheese weighed about 120 grams and was just the right amount to crumble over the layers of bread.

The recipe came with the Spanish to Nueva España (what is today's Mexico) and has changed over the course of 500 years until it has become the dessert that we know today.  Since long ago, the recipe contains:
--densely textured white bread, thoroughly dried and hard.
--optional stale tortillas to line the bottom of the cazuela or other dish you use 
--freshly rendered pork lard
--vegetable oil
--cones of piloncillo (Mexican raw brown sugar)
--fresh orange peel
--fragrant cloves
--Mexican cinnamon stick
--allspice
--anise seeds
--shelled and skinned peanuts, toasted
--filleted almonds, toasted (optional)
--acitrón, a kind of crystallized cactus (optional)
--about a teaspoon of sea salt or table salt
--raisins
--queso Cotija or queso fresco (Cotija or fresh farmer's cheese (optional)

I purchased this already dried and buttered bread, ready for making capirotada, in a market in Michoacán, where I live.  Numerous vendors offer the slices by the kilo (2.2 pounds) or by the bag.  I bought a bag of about 10 very wide slices, which I sawed in half with a serrated knife so that I could fit them into a medium-size clay cazuela.  

The recipe is simplicity itself.  If you are using fresh bread, you'll need to slice it into 1/2" slices and let it dry for up to four nights, turning it every little while, until it is very hard on both sides.  Then you smear both sides of the dried slices with butter and fry the slices in a liberal amount of freshly rendered pork lard mixed with vegetable oil.  In many cities and towns of Mexico, one can buy pre-sliced, pre-buttered, pre-fried bread to use for capirotada.  I did, its photo is just above.


Canela (Mexican cinnamon) sticks can be as much as a yard long.  They're much softer and flakier and flavorful than the sort of short, hard, unbreakable cinnamon sticks sold packaged in most of the United States.  One can buy Mexican cinnamon sticks at a Latin grocery store; look for one near your home.  In the photo, you see raisins to the right of the cinnamon.


Here's a steamy shot of the miel de piloncillo as it simmers in a stainless steel pot.  You can see the orange peel, the raisins, and the cinnamon stick.


I used two of the large cones of piloncillo (on the left).  With this amount of piloncillo, the sweetness of the syrup was perfect.  Piloncillo is available in a Mexican market near your home--and you might even find it packaged in your favorite supermarket, in the Mexican canned and dried food aisle.

Once the bread is prepared, make the miel de piloncillo.  I used two large cones of piloncillo and a liter of water to start the process.    Put the piloncillo, the water, about 10-12 inches (broken into two pieces) of a Mexican cinnamon stick, 2 or 3 fragrant cloves, the fresh orange peel, about 1.5 teaspoons of anise seed, and 2 or 3 whole allspice into a medium-size pot.  Bring the pot to a boil and then lower the heat until the water is just simmering.  Allow it to simmer until the piloncillo is completely dissolved; this might take as much as 10 minutes.  You can allow the syrup to reduce just a little bit; you'll need the full amount of thin syrup to pour onto the layers of the capirotada.  Turn off the fire and set the pot aside.

Next, liberally grease your cazuela or baking dish with freshly rendered pork lard.  You can see in the photo that 'liberal' is what you want: don't stint.  Smear the lard, on the bottom of the dish and right up the sides!  Pork lard adds flavor to the capirotada that you can't get with any other fat.  TIP: the lard you want is available by weight at a Mexican market and maybe at your supermarket.  But DO NOT buy that cold brick of white hydrolyzed lard that's sold in your supermarket's meat or dairy case.  It has no flavor and excuse me, is basically disgusting.


Now you will put a single layer of bread into the cazuela and top it with the amount of peanuts, raisins, acitrón and crumbled cheese that you like.  I used about 50-60 grams of each per layer--maybe a few more peanuts.  Once the first layer was assembled, I poured about a cup of the miel de piloncillo over it, soaking it well.  The quantity of bread I bought made three layers; three fit very nicely into my cazuela.  On each layer of bread, I scattered approximately the same amount of the ingredients I'd put on the first layer, and poured about the same amount of miel de piloncillo over each successive layer.  The kitchen smelled fantastic!  


The finished product!  Once the capirotada was completely assembled, I put it into a pre-heated 180ºC (350ºF) oven for about 10-15 minutes.  The oven is optional; your capirotada will be just as delicious if you don't bake it at all.

Not only is capirotada a traditional Lenten dessert, it also has a strongly spiritual essence.  The Spanish are said to have used it as a teaching tool to give the indigenous population of Nueva España an understanding of the death and resurrection of Christ.  

--the bread alludes to the Body of Christ
--the miel de piloncillo represents His blood
--the cinnamon stick looks like the wood of the cross where He was crucified
--the clavos (cloves) have the same shape and the same Spanish-language name as the nails in His hands
--the white cheese reminds us of the sheet that remained in the tomb when He arose from the dead

Although capirotada is richly delicious, and its history is also rich, today's reality is that home-made capirotada is not prepared as often as it was in years gone by.  Yes, you can buy it already prepared in many towns in Mexico, and it's important to support the women who prepare it.  Nevertheless, little by little the tradition is being lost.  It's important that each of us do her/his part to make and eat something this significant and delicious--and with a five hundred year history on our Lenten tables.  When one prepares it, it brings back so many memories of our childhood, our families, and our friends.  It preserves the long tradition.  Truly, it's well worth the time to prepare this simple recipe.  During this Lenten season, let's commit ourselves to making capirotada and sharing it with those dearest to us.  

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Cuaresma (Lent) Has Begun! Help! I Need an Easy and Delicious Meatless Meal!

Cuaresma (Lent) started on Ash Wednesday, March 2, 2022.  Many people all over the world are searching for something delicious to serve on Lenten Fridays, when abstinence from meat is still required in some religious faiths.  The ingredients for home-style chilaquiles with egg are very simple.  This easy-to-prepare, traditionally Mexican dish makes a perfect breakfast, lunch, or supper for a Lenten Friday, or for any day.

Many years ago, long before the Internet burst onto the world scene and long before writing Mexico Cooks! was even a glimmer in my eye, a close friend from Michoacán taught me to prepare several platillos caseros mexicanos (home-style Mexican dishes).  I've written about my dear friend Sister Celia Gutiérrez Cortés before; more than 30 years ago, she introduced me to many of Mexico's joys that continue to reward me today. 

Sister Celia Gutiérrez Cortés in 1982

Chilaquiles are one of Mexico's most comforting of comfort foods.  A mere mention of the word in casual conversation with Mexican friends will bring forth memories, stories, and recipes for their favorite ways of preparing them.  They can be como mi mamá los hacía (like my Mom used to make them),  estilo el restaurante en donde almorzábamos en aquel entonces (the way the restaurant where we had brunch in the old days prepared them), or--like these--como me los enseñó mi querida amiga (like my dear friend taught me).  Enjoy!

Chilaquiles Caseros con Huevo
(Home-Style Chilaquiles with Egg)

Ingredients
10 to 12 eggs
1/4 cup milk
Sea salt to taste
Bottled red salsa to taste (the salsa in the photo is Chapala brand, but you can use salsa Cholula, Valentina, or something similar)   
2 fresh chiles serrano (use just one, if you prefer your food less picante (spicy)
1 medium white onion
16-20 stale tortillas, the staler the better.
Vegetable oil

Utensils
12" non-stick skillet
Mixing bowl
Wire whisk
Spatula

Procedure

Break eggs into your mixing bowl.  Add milk, sea salt, and bottled salsa.  (I give the bottle 6-8 thumps on the bottom.)  Whisk thoroughly until all ingredients are completely mixed together.

Finely mince the chiles.  Cut the onion into 1/2 inch dice. 

In your skillet, heat oil until it shimmers.  Add the diced onion and minced chiles and sauté until the onions are soft and translucent, but not browned.

While the vegetables are cooking, cut or rip the tortillas into 1.5" squares, into triangles, or into 2" X 3/4" rectangles.  The shape doesn't matter and each tortilla piece does not have to be exactly the same as the other.

Once the vegetables are soft, add the tortilla pieces to the skillet and sauté until they are browned and moderately crunchy.  The onions will caramelize during this step.

When the tortillas are moderately crunchy--and they don't need to be as hard as packaged chips, just nicely crisped--add the beaten egg mixture to the skillet. 

Cook over medium heat until the eggs are well-set but not hard.  You will notice that, as the eggs begin to cook, the surfaces of the tortillas will appear to be slick and shiny.  That's the egg mixture.  The tortillas will lose that shine; when it's gone, you'll know that they are done.

If you're preparing this recipe for a day other than a Lenten Friday and there is half a chicken breast left over from a previous meal, you can cut it into strips or shred it and toss it into the chilaquiles.

Divide the chilaquiles onto four plates.  Drizzle with Mexican crema para la mesa (table cream--not sour cream, it's more like crême fraiche), if you can find it.  Serve with refried beans, sliced ripe avocado, and a refreshing cold beverage.

Makes four generous servings.  Provecho!

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The Best Signage EVER at Mexico City's Mercado de Jamaica. What? The SIGNS?

In late October just a few years ago, Mexico Cooks! went to the Mercado de Jamaica specifically to find flowers and decorative items to build a home altar for the Day of the Dead.  We found exactly what we wanted, but that became our secondary objective once we passed into the produce section of the market.

Many of Mexico City's markets use this sort of printed sign to advertise the price of what's for sale--in this case, vine-ripened Roma tomatoes--and every sign has a bit of advice to offer about your potential purchase.  I've loved these signs since long before living in Mexico's capital.  On this market jaunt, the lightbulb went on: all of you would love these typical and sometimes funny signs, too.  This one urges, "Don't think about it too much...take home a little kilo!".

For already-cut-up calabaza de castilla (a huge, hard-shell Mexican squash): 'money well spent'.

For limón criollo (Mexican Key limes): I'll be right with you!

Limas--and there really is no translation for this uniquely Mexican fruit.  They are neither limes nor lemons, nor are they oranges.  But as the sign says: it's scrumptious!

Chile jalapeño: pretty and cheap, at four pesos the quarter kilo. 

White potatoes for 10 pesos the kilo: smile.

Beautiful crisp cucumbers: ask for more.


At six pesos the kilo: 'Don't look any further!'


These are tunas--fruit of the nopal cactus--that the sign says are "chingonas".  Chingonas is Mexican slang for bad ass!

This merchant is offering his chiles jalapeños at 14 pesos the kilo: 'Like you saw on TV'.

This sign is my current favorite. "Ni hablar mujer" means 'Lady, don't even talk about it!'.  The phrase is also part of a Pedro Infante song.

Next year, plan to come along with us to this marvelous market.  Ahorita la atiendo!

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Mexico and Her Marvelous Music :: And The Band Played On

Trio Los Panchos, from the 1950s.  They're still playing today and everyone of every age in Mexico knows all the words to all the songs they've sung since their beginning.  You can hear them here: 

  
A few nights ago some friends and I were having dinner at a local restaurant. A wonderful trio (lead guitar, second guitar, and bass) played a broad selection of Mexico's favorite tunes while we enjoyed our food and conversation. From the table behind us, a woman's voice rang out in English, "Boy, these mariachis are really good."

Her comment, one I've heard over and over again, made me think about the many varieties of Mexican music. Not all Mexican music is mariachi, although many people assume that it is.

It's just as incorrect to classify all Mexican music as mariachi as it is to classify all music from the United States as jazz. Mariachi has its traditions, its place, and its beauties, but there are many other styles of Mexican music to enjoy.

Ranchera, norteña, trio, bolero, banda, huasteco, huapango, trova, danzón, vals, cumbia, jarocho, salsa, son--€”the list could go on and on. While many styles of music are featured in specific areas, others, like norteña, banda, ranchera, and bolero, are heard everywhere in Mexico. Let's take a look at just a few of the most popular styles of music heard in present-day Mexico.

Norteña
Música norteña (northern music) will set your feet a-tapping and will remind you of a jolly polka. Norteña had its beginnings along the Texas-Mexico border. It owes its unique quality to the instrument at its heart, the accordion. The accordion was introduced into either far southeastern Texas or the far north of Mexico by immigrants from Germany, Czechoslovakia, or Poland. No one knows for sure who brought the accordion, but by the 1950s this rollicking music had become one of the far and away favorite music styles of Mexico.

A norteña group of musicians playing a set of trap drums, a stand-up bass, and the accordion produces an instantly recognizable and completely infectious sound. The songs have a clean, spare accordion treble and a staccato effect from the drum, while the bass pounds out the deep bottom line of the music.

Música norteña is popular everywhere in Mexico. Conjuntos norteños (bands) often play as itinerant musicians. These are the musicians who are often hired to play serenades in the wee hours of Mother's Day morning, who play under the window of a romantic young man's girl friend while she peeps from behind the curtain, and who wander through restaurantes campestres (country-style restaurants) all over Mexico to play a song or two for hire at your table.

Here's a great norteño by one of my favorite groups, Bronco:

Banda de Viento and Banda

Banda de viento and banda are similar musical styles: both have a military legacy. Each has moved in its own direction to provide different types of entertainment.  Banda de viento (wind band, or brass band) originated in Mexico in the middle 1800s during the reign of Emperor Maximilian and Empress Carlota. Later, Presidents Benito Juárez and Porfirio Dí­az commissioned the creation of brass bands in their home state, Oaxaca, in imitation of the brass bands that entertained at the Emperor's court.

The huge upsurge of popularity of brass bands in Mexico came in the early 20th Century. After the Mexican revolution, local authorities formed "Sunday bands" made up of military musicians who played in municipalities' plaza bandstands all over Mexico.

In Zacatecas, many bandas de viento specialize in leading callejonadas, street processions that exist for the joy of the music--if you're in Zacatecas, don't miss the fun!

Here's the Marcha de Zacatecas, one of Mexico's most famous marches: 

There are regional differences in banda de viento style, but you can still take a Sunday stroll around many rural Mexican plazas to hear the tuba oompah the bass part, the trumpets blare, squeaky clarinets take the lead, and the tamborazo (percussion) keeps the beat.  Sunday municipal band concerts no longer exist in some large cities, but you can still hear weekly concerts in smaller towns.

Banda music, which exploded onto the Mexican music scene in the 1990s, is a direct outgrowth of the municipal bands of Mexico. Banda is one of the most popular styles of dance music among Mexican young people. In small towns, we're often treated to a banda group playing for a weekend dance on the plaza or at a salón de eventos (events pavilion) in the center of the village. The music is inevitably loud, with a strong bass beat. You'll hear any number of rhythms, from traditional to those taken from foreign music. It's almost rock and roll. It's almost-well, it's almost a lot of styles, but it's pure banda.

Few foreigners go to these dances and that's a shame, because it's great fun to go and watch the kids dance. You might want to take earplugs; the banks of speakers can be enormous and powerful.

 
Banda El Recodo plays "El Sinaloense".  Hang onto your hats!

The dancing will amaze you. Children, teenagers, and adults of all ages dance in styles ranging from old fuddy-duddy to la quebradita. La quebradita is a semi-scandalous style of dance which involves the man wrapping his arms completely around the woman while he puts his right leg between her two as they alternate feet and twirl around the dance floor. Complete with lots of dipping and other strenuous moves, la quebradita is a dance that's at once athletic and extremely sexual.

Bolero
In the United States and Canada, it's very common for those of us who are older to swoon over what we know as the 'standards'. Deep Purple, Red Sails in the Sunset, Smoke Gets in Your Eyes, and almost anything by Ol' Blue Eyes can take us right back to our youthful romances. Most of us can dance and sing along with every note and word.

 
Here in Mexico, it's the same for folks of every age. The romantic songs from the 1940s, 50s, and 60s are known as boleros. The theme of the bolero is love--happy love, unhappy love, unrequited love, indifference, but always love. I think just about everyone has heard the classic Bésame Mucho, a bolero written by Guadalajara native Consuelo Velásquez. This timeless favorite has been recorded by Frank Sinatra, Nat King Cole, and The Beatles, among countless other interpreters of romance.

Here's Luis Miguel, one of Mexico's modern interpreters of bolero, singing Bésame Mucho:

  

Armando Manzanero, born in 1935 in Mérida, Mexico, was one of the most famous writers of bolero. His more than 400 songs have been translated into numerous languages. More than 50 of his songs have gained international recognition. Remember Perry Como singing It's Impossible?  Armando Manzanero wrote it long ago as "Somos Novios".

Crowds memorialize Pedro Infante, one of Mexico's greatest stars.

"Amorcito Corazón" is one of Pedro Infante's his most famous songs.  His voice--and the words to the song--make me sigh for joy.

Agustí­n Lara was another of Mexico's prolific songwriters. Before Lara died in 1973, he wrote more than 700 romantic songs. Some of those were translated into English and sung by North of the Border favorites Bing Crosby, Frank Sinatra, and yes, even Elvis Presley. The most famous of his songs to be translated into English included You Belong to My Heart (originally Solamente Una Vez), Be Mine Tonight (originally Noche de Ronda), and The Nearness of You.

Ranchera
The dramatic ranchera (country music), which emerged during the Mexican Revolution, is considered by many to be the country's quintessential popular music genre. Sung to different beats, including the waltz and the bolero, its lyrics traditionally celebrate rural life, talk about unrequited love and tell of the struggles of Mexico's Everyman.

Ana Gabriel is one of today's reigning queens of música ranchera.  Listen to her sing one of her all-time great songs: Y Aquí Estoy   

Ranchera finds its inspiration in the traditional music that accompanies folkloric dancing in Mexico. Its form is romantic and its lyrics almost always tell a story, the kind of story we're used to in old-time country music in the United States: she stole my heart, she stole my truck, I wish I'd never met her, but I sure do love that gal. Pedro Infante, Mexico's most prolific male film star, is strongly associated with the ranchera style of Mexican music. One of the original singing cowboys, Infante's films continue to be re-issued both on tape and on DVD and his popularity in Mexico is as strong as it was in his heyday, the 1940s. Infante, who died in an airplane accident in 1957 when he was not quite forty, continues to be revered and is an enormous influence on Mexican popular culture.

Ranchera continues to be an overwhelmingly emotional favorite today; at any concert, most fans are able to sing along with every song. This marvelous music is truly the representation of the soul of Mexico, the symbol of a nation.

Ana Gabriel is the queen, but Vicente Fernández, who passed away on December 12, 2021, was the undisputed king of ranchera. Listen to him sing one of his classics: "Volver, Volver"


Don Vicente Fernández, whose ranch, huge charro ring and concert venue, huge restaurant, and large charro-goods store are located between the Guadalajara airport and Lake Chapala, was for years the reigning king of ranchera--indeed, he was considered by many to be the King of Mexico.

Mariachi
Mariachi really is the music that most folks think of when they think of Mexico's music. Mariachi originated here, it's most famous here, and it's most loved here. The love of mariachi has spread all over the world as non-Mexicans hear its joyous (and sometimes tragic) sounds. At this year's Encuentro Internacional del Mariachi (International Mariachi Festival) in Guadalajara, mariachis from France, Czechoslovakia, Canada, Switzerland and the United States (among others) played along with their Mexican counterparts.

In the complete mariachi group today there are six to eight violins, two or three trumpets and a guitar, all standard European instruments. There is also a higher-pitched, round-backed guitar called the vihuela, which, when strummed in the traditional manner gives the mariachi its typical rhythmic vitality. You'll also see a deep-voiced guitar called the guitarrón which serves as the bass of the ensemble. Sometimes you'll see a Mexican folk harp, which usually doubles the base line but also ornaments the melody. While these three instruments have European origins, in their present form they are strictly Mexican.

Mariachi Vargas de Tecalitlán is the most famous mariachi in the world.  Every year in Guadalajara they honor the festival with their presence at the Encuentro Internacional de Mariachi.  It's an unforgettable experience.  Listen to them now, and watch the audience singing along: 

 
The combined sound of these instruments makes the music unique. Like the serape (a type of long, brightly striped shawl worn mainly by Mexican men) in which widely contrasting colors are woven side by side--green and orange, red, yellow and blue--the mariachi use sharply contrasting sounds: the sweet sounds of the violins against the brilliance of the trumpets, and the deep sound of the guitarrón against the crisp, high voice of the vihuela; and the frequent shifting between syncopation and on-beat rhythm. The resulting sound is the musical heart and soul of Mexico.

One last video: you simply can't talk about Mexico's music without a deep bow to Juan Gabriel, one of the most beloved Mexican singers of all time.  He first recorded the lovely Amor Eterno, written for his deceased mother, in 1991.  It is a legendary classic.  Once again, the audience sings along with every word.

 

Next time you go to your local music store, look on the racks of CDs for some of the artists and styles of Mexican music I've mentioned. You may be quite surprised to see how popular the different styles are in the United States and Canada. As the population of countries North of the Border becomes more Mexican, the many sounds of Mexican music follow the fans. Next thing you know, you'll be dancing la quebradita.  

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

A Pre-Hispanic Treat in a Modern Kitchen :: Alegrías, A Sweet Joy from Mexico

 
Lots of people are like Mexico Cooks! when it comes to cookbooks.  We own hundreds of them, but actually cook from very few.  For well over a year, I read and sighed with delight over the stories and recipes in Fany Gerson's My Sweet Mexico--and last week I finally prepared alegrías from her recipe.  Fany calls them 'amaranth happiness candy'.  Why?  Happiness or joy are the English meanings of the Spanish word alegría.


Mexico Cooks!' homemade alegrías, freshly turned from the parchment-lined baking sheet onto the cutting board and ready to cut into pieces. 

A couple of weeks ago, friends at the superb web page Cocina al Natural invited Mexico Cooks!' household to a wonderful comida casera (main meal of the day at their home).  For dessert, they proudly carried a big tray of alegrías to the table.  "They're home made!" they proclaimed.  "No way!" we remonstrated.  Well, yes, güey, it was the absolute truth.  The alegrías were beautiful, professional, delicious, and prepared from Fany Gerson's cookbook, which is actually in my kitchen library.  We joyfully crunched these delicacies down.

According to Ricardo Muñoz Zurita, legendary Mexico City chef and author of the Diccionario Enciclopédico de Gastronomía Mexicana (Encyclopedic Dictionary of Mexican Gastronomy), among other books, alegrías are the oldest candy in Mexico.  In pre-Hispanic times, before sugar cane had been introduced to New Spain (now Mexico), the amaranth candy was sweetened with maguey cactus syrup.  In that long-ago era, this candy had a highly religious meaning.  Shaped in the form of a cookie or cracker, it was utilized for communion in indigenous rituals and also was made into huge sculptures of pre-Christian gods.  Because these god-figures appeared so horrible to the Spanish, they outlawed the use of this candy after the conquest.  But in the 16th century, a Spanish monk had the idea to mix amaranth with bee honey.  Rejoicing over the return of the right to eat this sweet treat, the ancient inhabitants of Mexico named it what they felt 'alegría'--joy.

 
The topping mixture for the alegrías--raisins and lightly toasted pecans, peanuts, and pepitas (pumpkin seeds), spread onto the parchment-paper lined baking sheet. 

The following week, Betty Fussell, our wonderful friend from New York, invited us once again to visit her in Tepoztlán, just south of Mexico City.  The light bulb went on: alegrías would make a great gift to take to Betty!

Now, alegrías often have ingredients that were brought to this country during the Spanish occupancy--grapes which became raisins, sugar cane, limónes, and others, which are of course cultivated here.  The recipe for alegrías is simplicity itself.  Here's the recipe, taken straight from My Sweet Mexico.

Alegrías (Happiness Candy)

Ingredients 
1/2 cup chopped toasted pecans
1/2 cup chopped toasted peanuts
1/2 cup toasted pepitas (pumpkin seeds)
1/2 cup dark raisins
8 ounces chopped Mexican piloncillo (coarse brown sugar) or standard dark brown sugar, packed
1/2 cup honey
1/2 teaspoon freshly squeezed lemon or lime juice
4 ounces puffed amaranth seeds

Equipment
Large bowl
Large spoon
15" X 10" X 1/2" baking sheet
Parchment paper
Medium sauce pan
Cutting board
Sharp knife 

Preparation
Line the baking sheet with parchment paper.  Combine the pecans, peanuts, pumpkin seeds, and raisins in a bowl and then spread them on the prepared pan. 

 
Piloncillo, honey, and lemon juice in the pot.

Combine the piloncillo, honey, and lemon juice in a medium pot over medium heat and cook until the piloncillo has melted and the mixture has thickened slightly, about 5 to 10 minutes.  


Squeezing the jugo de limón (lemon juice) into the mixture is simplicity itself using a Mexican lime squeezers.  You can find one in metal or plastic at your local Latin market.

Remove the syrup from the heat and add the amaranth seeds, stirring quickly to mix everything well. 

 
Mixing the cooked and thickened piloncillo, honey, and lemon juice mixture with the amaranth seeds.

 
The amaranth mixture, patted firmly into the parchment-lined baking sheet.  Remember that the nuts and raisins are the topping--they're on the other side of the alegrías.  Once this rectangle is completely cool, it will be firm and you will easily be able turn it over onto a cutting board.

Pour the amaranth mixture into the baking pan with the nuts, seeds, and raisins, and carefully press down with slightly dampened hands (so you don't burn yourself) to compact the mixture.

Allow to cool completely, 30 to 40 minutes at least, then invert onto a cutting board.  Cut the mixture into the desired shapes with a sharp knife.  If your mixture seems to be sticking to the knife, simply dip the knife into hot water, dry, and continue cutting.

 
Freshly made alegrías, ready to travel!

Mexico Cooks!' alegrías turned out overly crispy and difficult to cut, so instead of battling with the knife, I simply broke them into reasonable-size pieces and packed them in a tightly sealed container to travel the next day.  

Were the alegrías a hit?  They definitely were!  Five of us ate almost all of them.  We left some of the remaining pieces with our hosts, but we had to bring a few pieces home.  Minimal ingredients, minimal cooking, and maximal enjoyment: what more can you ask for from pre-conquest Mexico!  Your family will love them and you can send a big thank you to Fany Gerson at My Sweet Mexico--and to Mexico Cooks!.

If you don't have your copy of the book yet, look over on the left-hand sidebar and just click on the book cover.  That click will take you to My Sweet Mexico's Amazon.com page.  Grab the book today and make your family a sweet Mexican treat as soon as it's in your kitchen.

And by all means visit our friends at Cocina al Natural.  Their website and their videos are marvelous.  In the very near future, Mexico Cooks! will be partnering with them to post some of the videos with English-language subtitles.  We're all very excited about this new venture.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.  

Mexico's Niño Dios (Baby Jesus), Honored and Loved on February 2nd, the Feast of La Candelaria

I know we're a few days late to celebrate February 2nd, the Feast of La Candelaria, but it's important: in Mexico, this date is the end of the Christmas season!  The Niño Dios (Baby Jesus) is taken from the manger, dressed in new finery, and--well, read the rest of the story right here!

Niños Dios: one Christ Child, many colors: ideal for Mexico's range of skin tones. Mercado Medellín, Colonia Roma, Mexico City, December 2013. 

For about a month prior to Christmas each year, the Niño Dios (baby Jesus) is for sale everywhere in Mexico.  Mexico Cooks! took this photograph in 2013 at the annual tianguis navideño (Christmas market) in front of the Mercado Medellín, Colonia Roma, Mexico City.  These Niños Dios range in size from just a few inches long to nearly the size of a two-year-old child.  They're sold wrapped in only a diaper that's molded into their bodies.

When does the Christmas season end in your family?  When I was a child, my parents packed the Christmas decorations away on January 1, New Year's Day.  Today, I like to enjoy the nacimientos (manger scenes), the Christmas lights, and the tree until the seventh or eighth of January, right after the Día de los Reyes Magos (the Feast of the Three Kings).  Some people think that date is scandalously late.  Other people, particularly my many Mexican friends, think that date is scandalously early.  Christmas in Mexico isn't over until February 2, el Día de la Candelaria  (Candlemas Day), also known as the Feast of the Presentation.

The Holy Family, a shepherd and some of his goats, Our Lady of Guadalupe, an angel, a little French santon cat from Provence, and some indigenous people form a small portion of Mexico Cooks!' nacimiento.  Click on the photo to get a better look.  Note that the Virgin Mary is breast feeding the infant Jesus while St. Joseph watches over them.

Although Mexico's 21st century Christmas celebration often includes Santa Claus and a Christmas tree, the main focus of a home-style Christmas continues to be the nacimiento and the Christmas story.  A family's nacimiento may well contain hundreds--even thousands--of figures, but all nacimientos have as their heart and soul the Holy Family (the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, and the baby Jesus).  This centerpiece of the nacimiento is known as el Misterio (the Mystery).  The nacimiento is set up early--in 2020, mine was out at the end of November--but the Niño Dios does not make his appearance until the night of December 24, when he is sung to, rocked to sleep, and placed in the manger.

Niños Dios at Mexico City's Mercado de la Merced.  The figures are dressed as hundreds of different saints and representations of holy people and ideas.  The figures are for sale, but most people are only shopping for new clothes for their baby Jesus.  All photos copyright Mexico Cooks! except as noted.

Between December 24, when he is tenderly rocked to sleep and laid in the manger, and February 2, the Niño Dios rests happily in the bosom of his family.  As living members of his family, we are charged with his care.  As February approaches, a certain excitement begins to bubble to the surface.  The Niño Dios needs new clothing!  How shall we dress him this year?

The oldest tradition is to dress the Niño Dios in hand-crocheted garments.  Photo courtesy Manos Mexicanos. 

According to Christian teaching, the Virgin Mary and St. Joseph took the baby Jesus to the synagogue 40 days after his birth to introduce him in the temple--hence February 2 is also known as the Feast of the Presentation. What happy, proud mother would wrap her newborn in just any old thing to take him to church for the first time?  I suspect that this brand new holy child was dressed as much to the nines as his parents could afford.  

The Niño Dios dressed as San Juan Diego, the indigenous man who brought Our Lady of Guadalupe to the Roman Catholic Church in what is now Mexico.

Every February 2, churches are packed with men, women, and families carrying their Niños Dios to church in his new clothes, ready to be blessed, lulled to sleep with a sweet lullaby, and tucked gently away till next year--or perched on a little throne just his size and settled in a place of honor in the family home.

The Niño Dios as el Santo Niño Doctor de los Enfermos (the Holy Child, doctor of the sick).  He has his stethoscope, his uniform, and his doctor's bag.  This traditionally dressed baby Jesus has origins in mid-20th century in the city of Puebla.

Every year new and different clothing for the Niño Dios comes to market.  In 2011, the latest fashions were those of the Archangels--in this case, the Archangel Gabriel.

The Niño Dios dressed as Peruvian San Martín de Porres, the patron saint of racially mixed people and all those seeking interracial harmony.  He is always portrayed holding a broom and a basket of food to distribute among the poor.

Niño Dios de la Eucaristía (Holy Child of the Eucharist).

Niño Dios dressed as San Benito, the founder of the Benedictine Order.

Niño Dios dressed as a Chinelo (costumed dancer from the state of Morelos).

Niño Dios de la Abundancia (Holy Child of Abundance).

The ceremony of removing the baby Jesus from the nacimiento is called the levantamiento (lifting up).  In a family ceremony, the baby is raised from his manger, gently dusted off, and dressed in his new finery.  Some families sing:

QUIERES QUE TE QUITE MI BIEN DE LAS PAJAS, (Do you want me to brush off all the straw, my beloved)
QUIERES QUE TE ADOREN TODOS LOS PASTORES, (Do you want all the shepherds to adore you?)
QUIERES QUE TE COJA EN MIS BRAZOS Y CANTE (Do you want me to hold you in my arms and sing)
GLORIA A DIOS EN LAS ALTURAS.  (Glory to God on high).

One of the most popular 'looks' for the Niño Dios in Mexico City is that of San Judas Tadeo, the patron saint of impossible causes.  He is always dressed in green, white, and gold and has a flame coming from his head.


Several years ago on the way from Oaxaca city to the city of Tehuantepec in southern Oaxaca state, my travel companion and I saw this Niño Dios, dressed in a full PEMEX uniform, in an alcove at a PEMEX gasoline station.  I think this is my all-time favorite.


Mexico Cooks!' very own Niño Dios.  He measures just 7" from the top of his head to his wee toes.  His new finery is very elegant.

 
This lovely video from Carapan, Michoacán shows both the gravity and the joy (and the confetti!) with which various families' Niños Dios are carried to the parish church.

Carefully, carefully carry the Niño Dios to the parish church, where the priest will bless him and his new clothing, along with you and your family.  After Mass, take the baby Jesus home and put him safely to rest till next year's Christmas season.  Sweet dreams of his next outfit will fill your own head as you sleep that night.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

Is There A Difference Between What's Authentic and What's Traditional in the Mexican Kitchen?

I wrote and first published this article in 2010, in response to inquiries from readers who were confused about other authors' articles about "What is authentic Mexican food?"  The subject has come up again and again, most recently in comments and queries from readers and food professionals about Mexican and other cuisines. I still stand behind what I wrote nearly 10 years ago. 


"Real" Mexican chile relleno (stuffed, battered, and fried chile poblano), caldillo de jitomate (thin tomato broth), and frijoles negros (black beans).  Notice that the chile is not suffocated with globs of melted cheese.  

More and more people who want to experience "real" Mexican food are asking about the availability of authentic Mexican meals outside Mexico. Bloggers and posters on food-oriented websites have vociferously definite opinions on what constitutes authenticity. Writers' claims range from the uninformed (the fajitas at such-and-such a restaurant are totally authentic, just like in Mexico) to the ridiculous (Mexican cooks in Mexico can't get good ingredients, so Mexican meals prepared in the United States are superior to those in Mexico).

Much of what I read about authentic Mexican cooking reminds me of that old story of the blind men and the elephant. "Oh," says the first blind man, running his hands up and down the elephant's leg, "an elephant is exactly like a tree."  "Aha," says the second, stroking the elephant's trunk, "the elephant is precisely like a hose."  And so forth. I contend that if you haven't experienced what most writers persist in calling "authentic Mexican", then there's no way to compare any restaurant in the United States with anything that is prepared or served in Mexico. You're simply spinning your wheels.

It's my considered opinion that there is no such thing as one definition of authentic Mexican. Wait, before you start hopping up and down to refute that, consider that in my opinion, "authentic" is generally what you were raised to appreciate. Your mother's pot roast is authentic, but so is my mother's. Your aunt's tuna salad is the real deal, but so is my aunt's, and they're not the least bit similar.  And Señora Martínez in Mexico makes yet another version of tuna salad, very different from any I've eaten in the USA.


Carne de puerco en salsa verde (pork meat in green sauce), a traditional recipe as served at the restaurant Fonda Margarita in Mexico City.


Carne de puerco en salsa verde from the Mexico Cooks! home kitchen.  The preparation looks similar to that at Fonda Margarita, but I tweak a thing or two that make the recipe my personal tradition, different from the restaurant's.

As you can see, the descriptor I use for many dishes is 'traditional'. We can even argue about that adjective, but it serves to describe the traditional dish of--oh, say carne de puerco en chile verde--as served in the northern part of Mexico, in Mexico City, in the Central Highlands, or in the Yucatán. There may be big variations among the preparations of this dish, but each preparation is traditional and each is considered authentic in its region.

I think that in order to understand the cuisines of Mexico, we have to give up arguing about authenticity and concentrate on the reality of certain dishes.


A nearly 200-year-old tradition in Mexico that shows up every September: chiles en nogada (stuffed chiles poblano in a creamy sauce made with fresh (i.e., recently harvested) walnuts.  It's the Mexican flag on your plate: green chile poblano, creamy white walnut sauce, and red pomegranate arils.  But hoo boy--there are arguments to the death about the "authentic" way to prepare these chiles: battered or not battered?  Put up your dukes!  (I fall on the not-battered side, in case you wondered.  God help me, I am not welcome in Puebla, where it's battered or forget it.)

Traditional Mexican cooking is not a hit-or-miss let's-make-something-for-dinner proposition based on "let's see what we have in the despensa (pantry)." Traditional Mexican cooking is as complicated and precise as traditional French cooking, with just as many hide-bound conventions as French cuisine imposes. You can't just throw some chiles and a bar of chocolate into a sauce and call it mole. You can't simply decide to call something "authentic" Mexican x, y, or z when it's not. There are specific recipes to follow, specific flavors and textures to expect, and specific results to attain. Yes, some liberties are taken, particularly in Mexico's new alta cocina mexicana (Mexican haute cuisine) and fusion restaurants, but even those liberties are based, we hope, on specific traditional recipes.  As Alicia Gironella d'Angeli (a true grande dame of Mexico's kitchen) often said to me, "Cristina, you cannot de-construct a dish until you have learned to construct it."  Amen.

In recent readings of food-oriented websites, I've noticed questions about what ingredients are available in Mexico. The posts have gone on to ask whether or not those ingredients are up to snuff when compared to what's available in what the writer believes to be more sophisticated food sources such as the United States.

Deep red, vine-ripened plum tomatoes, available all year long in central Mexico. The sign reads, "Don't think about it much--take home a little kilo!"  At the current price of 29 pesos per kilo, these Mexico-grown tomatoes, brought to market red-ripe, cost approximately $1.45 USD for 2.2 pounds.  What's the current price in the USA, or in Canada?

Surprise, surprise: most readily available fresh foods in Mexico's markets are even better than similar ingredients you find outside Mexico. Foreign chefs who tour with me to visit Mexico's stunning produce, fish, and meat markets are inevitably astonished to see that what is grown for the ordinary home-cook end user in Mexico is fresher, riper, more flavorful, more attractive, and much less costly than similar ingredients available in the United States.

Chicken, ready for the pot.  The chickens raised in Mexico for our food are generally fed ground marigold petals mixed into their feed--that's why the flesh is so pink, the skin so yellow, and why the egg yolks are like big orange suns.

It's the same with most meats: pork and chicken are head and shoulders above what you find in North of the Border supermarkets. Fish and seafood are direct-from-the-sea fresh and distributed by air within just an hour or two from any of Mexico's long coastlines.


Look at the quality of Mexico's fresh, locally grown, seasonal strawberries--and the season starts right now, at the end of January.  Deep red to its center, a strawberry like this is hard to find in other countries.

Nevertheless, Mexican restaurants in the United States make do with the less-than-superior ingredients found outside Mexico. In fact, some downright delicious traditional Mexican meals can be had in some north of the border Mexican restaurants. Those restaurants are hard to find, though, because in the States, most of what has come to be known as Mexican cooking is actually Tex-Mex or Cal-Mex cooking. There's nothing wrong with Tex-Mex and Cal-Mex cooking, nothing at all. It's just not traditional Mexican cooking.  Tex-Mex is great food from a particular region of the United States. Some of it is adapted from Mexican cooking and some is the invention of early Texas settlers. Some innovations are adapted from both of those points of origin.  Fajitas, ubiquitous on Mexican restaurant menus all over the United States, are a typical Tex-Mex invention.  Now available in some of Mexico's restaurants, fajitas are offered to the tourist trade as prototypically authentic. 


Pozole blanco (white pozole) with delicious clear broth that starts with a a long-simmered whole pig's head, nixtamalized native white cacahuatzintle corn, and lots of tender, flavorful pork meat.  Add to the pot some herbs and spices.  Then add hunks of avocado at the table--along with a squeeze or two of limón criollo (you know it as Key lime), some crushed, dried Mexican oregano, crushed, dried chile de árbol, and, if you like, a tablespoon or two of mezcal.  Traditional and heavenly!

You need to know that the best of Mexico's cuisines is not found in restaurants. It comes straight from somebody's mama's kitchen. Clearly not all Mexicans are good cooks, just as not all Chinese are good cooks, not all Italians are good cooks, and so forth. But the most traditional, the most (if you will) authentic Mexican meals are home prepared.


Diana Kennedy, UNAM 2011.  Mrs. Kennedy was at the Mexican National Autonomous University to present her book, Oaxaca Al Gusto.

That reality is what made Diana Kennedy who she is today: she took the time to travel Mexico, searching for the best of the best of the traditional preparations. For the most part, she didn't find them in fancy restaurants, homey comedores (small commercial dining rooms) or fondas (tiny working-class restaurants). She found them as she stood facing the stove in a home kitchen, watching doña Fulana prepare desayuno (breakfast), comida (the midday main meal of the day), or cena (supper) for her family.  Ms. Kennedy, an English woman, took the time to educate her palate, understand the ingredients, taste what was offered to her, and learn, learn, learn from home cooks before she started putting traditional recipes, techniques, and stories on paper. If we take the time to prepare recipes from any of Ms. Kennedy's many cookbooks, we too can take advantage of her wealth of experience and can come to understand what traditional Mexican cooking can be.  Her books will bring Mexico's kitchens to you when you are not able to go to Mexico.  But please: do follow the recipes, or your dish will come out different from what it is supposed to be.


My dear friend Abigail Mendoza, cocinera tradicional (traditional home cook) from Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca, prepares a vat of mole negro (black mole, the king of moles) for a large party she invited me to attend at her home.

In order to understand the cuisines of Mexico, we need to experience their riches. Until that time, we can argue till the cows come home and you'll still be just another blind guy patting the beast's side and exclaiming how the elephant is mighty like a wall.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.

 

 

What's the Straight Story on Mexico's Mealtimes? Cena (Supper) at the End of Day.

Back by popular demand!  So many Mexico Cooks! fans ask questions about what we eat at mealtimes--and when exactly DO we eat?  This is the third week in our three-part series that started on March 27; today, we'll take a close look at what's for supper on the Mexican table.

The man who operates this cart in Mexico City's Centro Histórico (Historic Center) wheels his baked plátanos y camotes (bananas and sweet potatoes) around during the day.  In residential areas, when downtown businesses are closed, you are most likely to hear the steam whistle's raucously high-pitched TWEEEEEEEEEEET during mid-to-late evening hours. Each plateful is either a roasted banana or a sweet potato dripping with sweetened condensed milk.  Enlarge the photo to get a better look at the front of the vehicle, where the bananas and sweet potatoes are kept warm over the cart's firebox.

Cena (supper) in Mexico is a mixed bag.  For an ordinary cena at home, it's usually a tiny meal: a cup of hot chocolate or hot milk, a pan dulce (sweet bread), or a quick taco made with what's left over from comida (the main meal of the day).  Comida being the large meal that it usually is, cena is meant only to tide you over from just before bedtime till early the next morning.

If you're out partying till the wee hours, a few tacos al pastor (shepherd-style marinated pork tacos) on the street might be just the ticket for your cena.  Note the whole pineapple at the top of the trompo (vertical spit).  The pineapple cooks along with the meat--see the gas grate behind the cone of meat?--and the pastorero (tacos al pastor cook) tosses a few small sweet slices into your grill-warmed tortilla.  Top with red or green salsa, a pinch of sea salt, and a shower of minced onion and cilantro for a taste of heaven.

Buñuelos are another favorite food for cena, either eaten at a cenaduría (supper spot) or purchased from a street vendor.  Some people still make them at home--the dough is very similar to that of a wheat flour tortilla, stretched over the round bottom of a clay pot till thin.  Traditionally, the dough is stretched over the maker's knee to achieve each buñuelo's large size and round shape!  They are usually served either whole and dusted with granulated sugar or broken into pieces in a bowl and drizzled with piloncillo (brown sugar) syrup.

Conchas (pan dulce), reposted from the breakfast article: food for cena is often the same food we eat for desayuno.

Just as an aside: in addition to cena, some people in Mexico still partake of merienda, a light snack that can come sometime between comida and cena.  This 'light snack' can be as simple as a couple of cookies and a cup of té de manzanilla (chamomile tea) or it can be a more complex offering similar to an English tea.  Mexico Cooks! will leave the question of how to find stomach room for merienda up to you.

Not all food eaten for cena is sweet.  Case in point: this Pátzcuaro, Michoacán specialty is atole de grano, a savory corn soup that's colored and flavored with anisillo (wild anise).

The 1826 Restaurant at the Rosewood Hotel in San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, is an enticing spot for cena whether it's a romantic evening for you and your main squeeze or whether you are supping with a group of friends.  Just be prepared to spend quite a bit.

A few years ago in February, Mexico Cooks! and a group of friends attended a gala Valentine's Day cena at Restaurante Los Danzantes in Coyoacán, Mexico City.  The dinner was presented by chef Cynthia Martínez and her team of cooks from Morelia, Michoacán.

If you are invited to a cena baile (dinner dance) or a cena de gala (black tie dinner)at a restaurant, events center, or private home, your hosts will pull out all the stops.  Champagne, beautiful entradas (appetizers), a superb multi-course meal, snazzy dessert, alcoholic beverages and music are de rigeur.


Mexico Cooks! researches possibilities for an elegant cena at Restaurante JASO, Colonia Polanco, Mexico City.  As is often said, It's a tough job, but somebody has to do it.

For a hearty cena, this chamorro (pork shank, cooked for long hours and absolutely delicious) is served at Morelia's Restaurante La Conspiración de 1809, just behind the Cathedral in the Centro Histórico.  The portion, too large for me to finish at one sitting, served as wonderful tacos for the next night's cena.  Not to be missed!

From sneakers and street tacos to stilettos and tuxedos, cena in Mexico will keep you going till morning.  Provecho!

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