Mexico Cooks!

Dando la Vuelta en la Ciudad de México :: Roaming around in Mexico City, Part One

Mexico's summer always gives us an abundance of flor de calabaza (squash flowers) to be used in the kitchen. Prepared as sopa de guias (squash vine soup), quesadillas, or stuffed with cheese, these flowers are delicious and are readily available in many Mexican markets.  Did you know that only the male flowers are harvested?  The female flowers are left to develop squash.  

You might like to try this Mexico Cooks! recipe in your own kitchen.

Flor de Calabaza Estilo Cristina 
Squash Flowers, Cristina's Style

Ingredients

2 large bunches flor de calabaza, washed and patted dry
1 medium white onion
4 chiles poblano
1 chile serrano
2 large russet or other large white potatoes
Flour
Sea salt to taste
Vegetable oil, freshly rendered pork lard, or half vegetable oil, half bacon grease for frying.

Procedure

Peel and dice potatoes into 1/2" cubes.  Boil until just fork-tender.  Drain, allow to dry, and reserve.

Roast chiles according to your preferred method until the skin is blistered and they are well-blackened.  Sweat for 10 minutes in a closed plastic bag.  Remove skin.  Slice each chile lengthwise to remove seeds.  Dice peppers in 1/2” squares. 

Rough-chop flor de calabaza into 1 1/2" pieces.

Dice onion into 1/2" squares.

Mince chile serrano.

In a large sauté pan, heat the vegetable oil until it shimmers.  While the oil is heating, shake the reserved potatoes in flour and salt in a plastic bag. 

Sauté onions and chile serrano in oil or oil/bacon grease mixture.  Add the floured potatoes and sauté until crisp and pale golden, adding more fat if needed.  Add the diced chiles poblano and continue to sauté for about 1 minute.

Add the flor de calabaza and sauté just until tender. 

Add sea salt to taste.

Serves 2-3 as a side dish.


Late in the spring, we were invited to attend the opening of El Rebozo: Made in Mexico at Mexico City's extraordinary Museo Franz Mayer. The exhibition, which was originally mounted in London, featured both old and new rebozos (long rectangular shawls) as well as some other typical Mexican garments. One of the many rebozos in the exhibit was an exquisitely embroidered shawl from Oaxaca. This is a detail of that Oaxacan rebozo.


This photograph of Evita Perón, wife of Argentina's Juan Domingo Perón during his first term as president of that country, was part of an exhibit at Mexico City's Museum of Modern Art (MAM) during the spring and summer.  The photograph formed part of an exhibition of the works of Giselle Freund, a self-taught photographer who worked in Argentina and Mexico in the 1940s and 1950s.


This tiny ironwood mortar and pestle (the mortar is only about 2" high) comes from the state of Sonora, in northern Mexico.  It is made specifically for use at the table, for an individual diner to grind one or two chiles chiltepín, which are highly spicy and famously used to season certain dishes from the cuisine of that state.  The grinder is passed from person to person at the table, along with a dish of whole chile chiltepín.


Chile chiltepín from Sonora.  Each chile is tiny but extremely picante. Photo courtesy Hunter Angler Gardener Cook.

Beautiful ceremonial tortillas from the state of Guanajuato.  The tortillas are made in the usual way and are then stamped prior to baking with a wooden stamp dipped in vegetable dye.  Mexico Cooks! was privileged to see these twice in one summer, first at an event at the Escuela de Gastronomía Mexicana in Mexico City and again at the Primer Encuentro Nacional de Cocineras Tradicionales (First National Meeting of Traditional Cooks) in Morelia, Michoacán.


This is the tamarillo or tomate del árbol (tree tomato), a native of the South American Andes.  Each fruit is approximately 2.5" long.  The flesh is fairly firm and deeply flavorful, both sweet and earthy.  You never know what you'll see when you take a Mexico Cooks! tour--our group found these delicious fruits at a downtown Mexico City market.

Come back next week for more summertime wanderings with Mexico Cooks!. Our summer was far too interesting for just one article!

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

Mexico's Rebozo (Shawl), Witness to Life :: El Rebozo Mexicano, Testigo a la Vida

Young girl from Oaxaca, wrapped in her rebozo (a long rectangular shawl).  Photo courtesy my friend, the photographer Carlos Esteban Medina Sánchez.

A friend recently gave me a copy of an old and anonymous Mexican poem, written in Spanish, in homage to the rebozo.  The rebozo's importance to Mexican women cannot be exaggerated: from swaddled infancy to shrouded death, a rebozo accompanies our women throughout their days.  It is at once warmth, shade, infant's cradle, cargo-bearer, fancy dress, screen for delicious flirtation, and a sanctuary from prying eyes.

Enjoy my translation.

Michoacán-made rebozos and guitar, on exhibit in Morelia.  Note the elaborate fringes on both rebozos.  The traditional Purépecha indigenous rebozo is striped dark blue, black, and white.  Legend says that in this typical Michoacán rebozo, the blue is the blue of the Spanish eye, the black is the black of the Spanish hair, and the white is the ray of the sun.  All photos by Mexico Cooks! unless otherwise mentioned.

My Rebozo

Rummaging through my closet one fine day
I found this garment—my old rebozo!
How long had it been resting there?
Even I can’t say exactly.
But seeing it brought back so many memories
Tears clouded my eyes and fell one by one as I held
My beloved rebozo!

Rebozos made in Tenancingo, in the State of Mexico and exhibited in Coyoacán, Mexico City, several years ago.

What a faithful friend you have been.
Shall we relive just an instant of that far-distant past?
When I first showed you off, you were so beautiful, so new,
With your lively color and flowing fringe
Your reflection gleamed in the mirror like the morning star!


Dear friends Adán Paredes and Diana Miller during their February 2015 Zapotec wedding, wrapped together in a rebozo to symbolize their unity.

Come on, come on, let me fling you over my heart
The way I did in bygone years,
Next to this heart that disappointment has turned to ash!
Don’t you remember that beautiful blouse I wore,
Embroidered with poppies and carnations?
Don’t you remember all my triumphs and successes,
And my flounced skirt, so full of its pretty sequins, beads, and glitter?

Lavender and white rebozo with elaborate fringe.  Made by the Aranza, Michoacán, Weaver's Cooperative.

See, tightened to the span of my narrow waist and
Crossed just so over my straight young back
Showing off my fresh round breasts,
With two vertical parallel lines.
We stepped out to the beat of those long-ago songs,
That dance that determined my life.
Your fringes hung down just so!
And the two of us formed one soul.

Finely woven black and red Michoacán rebozo.

How was it that I wanted him?  You know!
Rebozo, you heard first how I loved him!
Your fringes were hopeful prisoners of my teeth
While I heard the soft slow songs of love
Oh perverse rebozo, unfaithful friend!
You were my confidante and my hiding place
You pushed me, burning, into romance
Wrapped in your fringes as if they were cherished arms.

Intricately patterned deep red rebozo.

But what’s this I see!
An ugly hole
That looks like a toothless mouth
Bursting out into furious laughter.
You laugh at my romantic memories?
You make fun of my long gone triumphs?
You know that the one who loved me has forgotten me
And that my soul, just like my love, is sacked and plundered?

Purépecha woman in the typical indigenous rebozo of Cherán, Michoacán.  She's selling flor de calabaza (squash flowers).

And you—you aren’t even a shadow of what you were
And because we don’t remember what we have been
We are betrayed!  Old!  Faded!
I’ll throw you in a box with other trash—
You, who are a traitor and so worn out!
How strange and how complicated
Just like you, I also betrayed—sometimes--in little ways!
Those sweet lies and silly nonsense
That made so many of my yesterdays happy.

White and black rebozo fringed with feathers.

Laugh, rebozo!  Don’t you see that I’m laughing--not angry?
The tears that spring from these eyes
Are just laughter, nothing more.  I’m not crying, I’m laughing!
But how can I be laughing, when I hate you so?
Let your mantel cover my head
The way it did in days long past, when I was possessed
By a kiss so strong, so violent.

Gold and salmon rebozo de gala (fancy dress).

No!  I will not throw you away, old rebozo!
You have a soul like mine
A Mexican woman's soul, wild, unmanageable
That will not bend even when faced with death itself!
I will fold you up and keep you in the closet
And there, like a holy relic,
My heart will once again put on
Your flowing fringe.

Purépecha mother and daughter in their finest clothing, including the typical indigenous rebozo from Michoacán.  Paracho, Michoacán, 2009.

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

Bazar Sábado (Saturday Arts and Crafts Market) in San Ángel, Mexico City

Sun-and-shade dappled Plaza San Jacinto, Colonia San Ángel, in the southern part of Mexico City, hosts Bazar Sábado.  Open only on Saturdays, the hours are 10:00AM until 7:00PM.

So many people who tour with me want to shop for high-quality small items to take home as souvenirs or as gifts for relatives and friends.  The only place to go?  Bazar Sábado, the huge artisans' market held every week in gorgeous Colonia San Ángel in the southern sector of Mexico City.  The market includes both indoor and outdoor shops and booths.  What's to be had?  Just about anything! 

These tenangos (hand-embroidered textiles) are made in the state of Guerrero.  We saw full-size table cloths, napkins, table runners, and place mats. We bought a dozen or two fabric coasters hand-embroidered with birds, fish, and flowers.

Napkin rings to match any decorator's color combination.

Crowds at Bazar Sábado tend to be large and shoppers are fairly aggressive.  Lots of tourists go: you'll hear Japanese, French, English, German, and a slew of other languages on the pathways of Plaza San Jacinto.  Be prepared to spend a little more money than you might in some other markets, but the atmosphere and the enormous selection of goods will give you great stories to tell back home.  Bazar Sábado is so well worth attending!

Wooden boxes, the tops decorated with icons ranging from the sacred to the profane.  Frida Kahlo, Che Guevara, and Mexico's lucha libre (wrestling) stars are among the most popular secular images.

Children's toys made of wood.  A million years ago, Mexico Cooks! knew these toys as Jacob's ladders.  Remember the sound they make?  Click, clack, click, clack, click, clack--now turn it over and start again.


While you're at Bazar Sábado, do go into Museo Casa Risco--at Plaza Jacinto #5--to see this glorious fountain.  It's entirely made of old dish ware and shells and fills one entire wall.  The building is off the beaten tourist path and definitely worth a look.  The museum also has both permanent and temporary exhibits that you'll enjoy.

Woven straw soft baskets to match your napkin rings.  These are perfect for serving bread at your dinner table.  We loved them.

Mexico Cooks!' antique painted box from Olinalá, Guerrero may well have been sold originally at Bazar Sábado.  Booths there still sell similar examples--new, of course.


Both on Plaza Jacinto you'll find restaurants and snacks of almost any kind, from this sort of traditional Mexican breakfast to pizza to a burger or even Chinese food.  

Mira, los títeres!  He's still young enough for the excitement of these simple fantasy-animal marionettes.

Maestro Enrique Segarra López, one of Mexico's most famous mid-20th Century photographers, holds court on Saturdays at his booth.  It was always a joy to spend some time with him.  He passed away a few years ago.

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

 

Matatlán and Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca :: Mezcal and Traditional Cooking on the Road Home

The Ilegal mezcal palenque (in a big stretch of translation, it's a mezcal distillery) is right on the road between Tlacolula and Teotitlán del Valle, in the little town which is arguably the mezcal capital of Oaxaca: Santiago de Matatlán.  The animal's job is to keep that stone wheel moving over wood-fire roasted maguey fibers, crushing them to prepare them for the fermentation and subsequent distillation process.

The first week of May, 2018, Chef Silvana Salcido Esparza (Barrio Cafe Phoenix) and I were on the last leg of our Oaxaca trip, driving north from the Isthmus of Tehuantepec to Oaxaca City, when we saw a sign on the side of the road for ILEGAL (in Spanish 'illegal' has just one 'L') mezcal.  She braked and swerved into the parking lot: "I can't believe we found this!  It's one of the best mezcales that we serve at the Cafe!"  We spent about an hour, fascinated, talking with an Ilegal mezcalero about its production.

From the Ilegal building's porch, I took this photo of the company's espadín maguey cactus fields.  Maguey grew as far as the eye could see.  This maguey is cultivated, not wild, and each plant takes between seven and ten years to mature enough to harvest.  Ilegal's joven (literally 'young', it means un-aged) mezcal gives you full-bodied espadín agave flavor. Barely smokey, its gently lemony flavors leave a slightly peppery sensation on your palate.  Ilegal also produces a reposado (briefly aged) mezcal as well as an añejo (longer aged) mezcal. 

Founded in approximately 2002-2003 by an American expatriate, John Brexer, in just 15 years the Ilegal brand has become one of the best-quality mezcales from Oaxaca.  Because our time was so short at the palenque, we had little time to talk at depth with the producer.  Click on this link to read the full story of the brand: ILEGAL MEZCAL.   Nonetheless, we took a lot of pictures and it's fun to share them with you here.


"Working from sun-up to sundown, life goes by this way in my village.  MATATLÁN the steam from your factories is the hope of all of us poor."


Just-filled bottles of Ilegal mezcal, sealed by hand-dipping each bottle top in emerald green wax.


View from inside the Ilegal building.


Antique sea-green glass garrafones (20-liter bottles, about five US gallons), used for holding water--or for bulk mezcal!  Today, it's difficult to find a garrafón like these; nearly all are now made of plastic.


Do you know what the Spanish word 'pendejo' means?  If not, here's your Spanish vocabulary lesson for today, just click here: not for children.

After our relámpago (lightning strike--i.e., really quick) stop at Ilegal, we headed for our much anticipated time prior to Oaxaca's airport: my dear friends Carina Santiago Bautista and her husband, Pedro Montaño, both soon to be equally dear to chef Silvana, had invited us to go to Tierra Antigua, their restaurant and gallery in Teotitlán del Valle, for a private comida with them.  Carina is a celebrated cocinera tradicional, and Pedro is a prize-winning Zapotec master weaver.  Silvana and I had been looking forward for days to being with them.

Tierra Antigua Restaurant and Gallery, Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca, exterior.  Photo courtesy TripAdvisor.

Carina and Pedro and their family have been working for years to build the complex of restaurant, gallery, and bungalows for visitors.  The installations are beautiful; prior to our meal, Carina gave Silvana and me a tour of their beautifully designed and constructed buildings.  The interiors are modern and charming, the outdoor kitchen is rustic and traditional and designed for cooking classes.  And the restaurant/gallery!  Every wall shows off Pedro's extraordinary textiles (primarily wool rugs and wall hangings), all of which are for sale.  Their talented son, Diego Montaño, is also a weaver and is represented in the gallery.  His weaving incorporates whimsy and beauty into his designs. 


This small rug/wall hanging, woven by young Diego Montaño, represents the symbolism and traditions of the milpa, the ancient farming system of Mexico which is still used today.  Click on the link for information about that.  Chef Silvana bought this marvelous weaving for her home.


The completely delightful Carina Santiago in her outdoor kitchen, standing at the stove.  Those are clay comales (comparable to griddles) coated with cal, the white substance on each comal's surface.   It's put there to make the comal non-stick!  If you're thinking of going to Oaxaca, schedule a cooking class with her.  She is fluently bilingual (Spanish/English) and will teach you Zapotec food preparation methods and flavors that go back hundreds of years. 


First thing at the table: home-made Oaxaca-style blue corn tortillas and salsa verde cruda--raw green salsa.  This salsa is so bright, so vibrant in one's mouth, and so wonderfully delicious that it awakened our palates for the rest of our meal to come.  Carina and her assistants prepare dried corn in the evening for grinding into masa (dough) the following day.


What's on the plate?  Hoja santa leaf, with its light anise flavor, and quesillo (Oaxaca cheese), melted together with toasted chapulines (limón and chile-flavored grasshoppers).  A squeeze of limón and wow!


Mole negro (black mole), the king of Oaxaca's moles.  Prepared with more than 30 ingredients, the intense flavors of this dish become more complex and more developed as one continues eating it.  The component that gives mole negro on of its most distinctive tastes is dried and reconstituted chile chilhuacle negro, a rare Oaxacan chile.

First quality chile chilhuacle negro, for sale at the Mercado 20 de noviembre, Oaxaca City.  The sign shows an interesting and uncommon spelling.


Chiles rellenos Oaxaca style: a fresh chile jalapeño, in this case seeded and stuffed with picadillo (a kind of Mexican hash), then covered with an egg batter and fried.  I'll be seeing Carina in a few weeks and would love to eat this again--and everything else, too!  Carina 


It's obligatory in Mexico to have a photo taken for posterity.  From left, chef Silvana, cocinera tradicional Carina, Mexico Cooks!, and weaver Pedro Montaño.  Behind us are two of Pedro's gorgeous rugs.  If you're anywhere near San Diego, California, you'll find him and his wonderful work at Bazaar del Mundo's annual Latin American Festival, August 3-5, 2018.  Click on the link for more information!


On the way out of town, we stopped for ice cold bottled water in a tiny grocery store across the street from the church.  This is the Mexico I've known since 1981: a little bit of this, a little bit of that, just what you need when you need it, and the friendliest owner in town. I know I'll go back in August to say hello.

Tierra Antigua Restaurante y Galería
Benito Juárez 175 (left-hand side of the street)
Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca
Telephone from the USA: 011-52-951-166-6160 for reservations, cooking classes or to eat at the restaurant. 
Spanish and English spoken
Tell them Mexico Cooks! sent you!

Next week: where to next?  It's going to be as much a surprise to me as it is to you!  I hope you've enjoyed coming along as chef Silvana and I traveled through one small part of wonderful Oaxaca.  I'd be happy to take you touring there--in real life.  Let me know if you'd like to schedule a trip!  

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

Salina Cruz, San Blas Atempa, and San Mateo del Mar :: Traveling in the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, Oaxaca

As we drove through Tehuantepec, we were looking for a nearby comida of fresh seafood and had no idea where to go; we stopped to ask a taxi driver and he led us to Salina Cruz, to a beach restaurant that was his favorite.  Salina Cruz, Oaxaca: wide open beaches, surfing, seafood!  This seaside city of approximately 24,000 people is only about half an hour south and west of Tehuantepec. Salina Cruz is the third largest city in Oaxaca and is a major port in southern Mexico.  Its main industry is the enormous oil refinery that one can see from almost everywhere in the area.  


He led us to Restaurante Delicias del Mar (Delicacies from the Sea), right on the beach in an area called Las Escolleras (the breakwaters).  That's chef Silvana Salcido Esparza (Barrio Cafe Phoenix) at the restaurant doorway, and you can see the incredible stretch of beach behind her--and beyond the beach, the open sea.  And may I say that it was hot, hot, hot--around 108ºF--and intensely humid.  Salina Cruz is known for its frequently high winds, though, and a stiff breeze helped the comfort level.  Inside the restaurant the high, shady palapa roof kept the breeze flowing.


At the right of the plate is the kind of clawless langosta (lobster) caught in the Salina Cruz area.  To the left of the lobster (which we ordered) are four cucarachas de mar (sea cockroaches), which we ordered despite their completely unappealing name and appearance.  The lobster was excellent and the flesh of the cucarachas was delicious; after cooking, the texture as well as the flavor are similar to those of lobster tail.  Who knew!  

"Silvana, hold up the huachinango (red snapper) so I can take a picture of it!"  I thought she'd hold it up on the plate, but this was far more fun. Whole, slashed, and fried till the skin is crispy and the flesh is moist and delicious--my favorite preparation of red snapper.  We left only the skeleton.  


The word "salina" means salt lagoon.  High tides bring abundant sea water into marked-off areas like the one you see in the photograph, and the intense sunlight dries the water, leaving salt that workers harvest from any remaining water.  For many generations, the entire region around Salina Cruz has benefited economically from the salt.  After I took this photo, I was amazed to see the clear reflection of the hill in the water.  Click on any photo to enlarge it for a better view.


The motocarro (three-wheeled taxi) transportation in San Blas Atempa, where we went after we finished our comida in Salina Cruz.  The piles of sand are building materials for earthquake damage repairs.  


Daily dress, daily life in San Blas Atempa.  The town, founded in 1530, feels like a trip to Oaxaca's past.  The community speaks Zapotec; the population is descended from a warrior race that takes much pride in preserving its traditions, customs, and language.  The townswomen received us with great good humor and much shared laughter.  We were sent to a street party down the street and around the block, sponsored by DIF (Desarrollo Integral de la Familia, Mexico's state and national social service agency).  It was el Día del Niño (Children's Day) in Mexico, celebrated to the max all over the country.  How could we resist! 


Of course we went!  The party vibrated with music, dancing, a funny clown, games and prizes for all of the many children, babies to nuzzle--we had a great time.  Chef Silvana saw to it that every child in our proximity received a big cold glass of home-made agua fresca made with fresh fruit: healthy, refreshing, and delicious.


Home-made aguas frescas at the DIF party.  Left to right: guayaba (guava), limón (Key lime), and wow, ciruela criolla (native wild plum)!  It's my all-time favorite, only available during the short wild plum season in the spring.  See the plastic bag between the jar of agua de limón and the jar of plum (orange ladle)?  The bag is filled with my serving of agua fresca de ciruela, a straw is stuck into the bag, and the opening of the bag is twisted and tied tightly around the straw.  It's the typical Mexican way of sending you off with any kind of soft drink to go.


A bucket of agua fresca de ciruela criolla, to replenish the vitrolero (large glass jar) as needed.  The plums are about two inches long, and inch and a half in diameter.  The pulp is minimal but delicious.  The stone is almost as big as the entire plum.



Oxcart is another much-used mode of transportation in San Blas Atempa.  We saw probably 20 of these, always with the driver standing up.  Occasionally other workmen were riding on the tail end.


There was a time when most signage in Mexico (if it existed at all) looked just like this, or was hidden behind a tree, or obscured behind a billboard, or was broken in half.  Chef Silvana and I are old Mexico hands and immediately recognized that we were on the right track for San Mateo del Mar.  We didn't know how many kilometers away it was, though.  Turns out that it wasn't far at all, just a few minutes from where we saw the sign.


Parroquia de San Mateo Apóstol, San Mateo del Mar, Oaxaca.  The brown part of the facade is a design, but much of the church was damaged in the September 7, 2018 earthquake.  If you click on the photo to enlarge it, you'll be able to see how the facade continues to be propped up and where there is other damage.


San Mateo Apóstol with flowers and a candle, patron saint of San Mateo del Mar, in a niche in the market.


Doña Agustina Sánchez, who sells a little bit of everything in the San Mateo del Mar market.  Chef Silvana and I spent a long time talking with her.  Hearing her wisdom was a particularly wonderful part of our day.  We laughed a lot, cried a little, and loved being there with her.  Doña Agustina gave each of us a shell necklace and her blessing when we left.


We happened to be in San Mateo for its día de plaza (market day).  The market is broken up into several sections because of earthquake damage to streets and homes; you can see the piles of both rubble (bottom right) and sand for new construction (middle left).  There was produce and other food available for purchase, but many, many of the community's houses were destroyed by the earthquake and many people continue to be without a place to live and a fixed place and way to cook.


Earthquake damage in San Mateo del Mar.  Photo courtesy Oaxaca news sources.

The Huave indigenous population of San Mateo del Mar and its surrounding region is known in the community's own language as ikoots (it means "us"), and in Spanish the people often call themselves mareños, or people of the sea.  They have lived in this tiny area of Oaxaca for more than 3000 years, predating the Zapotec population and obviously predating the arrival of the Spanish.  Men of the community have always been fishermen, and many of the women have been weavers since pre-hispanic times.  The Huave speak four distinct varieties of their language in their various communities; some of their Huave languages aren't understood by other Huave-speakers.  The total population of this ethnicity is approximately 29,000, divided into five towns: San Mateo del Mar, San Dionisio del Mar, San Francisco del Mar, and Santa María del Mar.  All are seaside villages or small towns; San Mateo del Mar has the largest population, with about 12,000 people.


Most of these typical Huave homes were destroyed by the September 7, 2017 earthquake.  Many other homes, with stick walls made of carrizo (similar to bamboo) and thatched roofs, were also either flattened or otherwise made uninhabitable.  Chef Silvana and I had the privilege of being invited into one of the carrizo homes and could see first hand the living conditions caused by the quake.  

As we drove into San Mateo del Mar, a tiny black sign with white lettering, above the door of a house, caught my eye.  In Spanish, it read: "Woven things sold here."  We braked fast and backed up to the corner to park.  As we walked through sand to the house, a very young woman with a baby on her hip came out to greet us.  "Buscan tejidos?" ('Are you looking for weavings?')  She got in the car with the baby and guided us a few hundred feet down the road, where we parked in front of another house, built of sticks and with a thatched roof.  You can see part of the inside in the video below.

In the video, the woman weaving with a back strap loom is Elena Villaseñor Rangel, a daughter of Sra. Justina Oviedo Rangel.  Doña Justina passed away in September 2013; her three daughters (Cristina, Victoria, and Elena Villaseñor Rangel) are carrying on her weaving tradition. You can see parts of the house, as well as our young 'guide', taking various types of textiles from a bag.    

We were extremely fortunate to have found Doña Justina's relatives, who told us a little of her story.  Born in 1938 and raised in San Mateo del Mar, she--like all the girls of her village--wasn't encouraged to go to school.  She started weaving when she was just eight years old, initially practicing with palm leaves and soon picking up any bits of thread she could find to use for her child-like projects.  She wasn't formally taught to weave; she learned by observing the women of her family.  She became more and more proficient at her craft and gained some recognition as a weaver.  Years of weaving later, she began to think about the "blank" side of a napkin; the design was always woven onto the front, and the reverse was blank.  She announced to her daughters that she was going to figure out a way to weave a design on both sides of a single layer.  Her daughters pretty much said, "Yeah right."  It seemed like an impossible task, and was something that had never been thought of, much less done. Doña Justina kept trying until she figured it out.

In those days, there was very little market outside San Mateo del Mar for ikoots textiles.   Doña Justina sold the textiles she wove then to women in the town.  Today, the servilletas (cloths for wrapping tortillas), rebozos (long rectangular "shawls" used for everything from carrying babies to carrying wood), and  huipiles (traditional women's blouses and dresses) made in the village are coveted by museums, individual collectors, and just about anyone who sees them.  Doña Justina has been honored many, many times for her fine work and for her impact on the town and its weavers.    


Chef Silvana standing next to a poster for an homenaje (homage) that was to be given in honor of doña Justina the day after we had to leave Oaxaca.  We were so disappointed not to be able to go.  Silvana is wearing a just-purchased huipil made from a fabric very similar to the fabric that you saw being woven in the video above.


Poster in San Mateo del Mar promoting breastfeeding.  "Amamantar Compromiso de Todos" (Breastfeeding is a Commitment for All).

Next week, Silvana and I head back to the city of Oaxaca to catch a plane back to Mexico City.  On the way to the city, we get to have two more wonderful experiences: a visit to the Ilegal mezcal operations in Matatlán, and comida at the home of cocinera tradicional Carina Santiago Bautista and her husband, extraordinary weaver Pedro Moreno, in Teotitlán del Valle.  Come with us!

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

On the Way to the Isthmus of Tehuantepec :: First Stop, Sunday Market at Tlacolula, Oaxaca

If you go to Tlacolula on a day other than Sunday, you'll easily be able to see the exterior of Templo Santa María de la Asunción.  Be sure to visit both the inside of the church and its adjacent chapel--the chapel in particular is breathtaking.  If you go on a Sunday, Tlacolula, an easy drive of approximately 45 minutes south of the city of Oaxaca, has what is in my opinion the most vibrant, colorful, and fascinating market of anyplace in Mexico.  I go every chance I get and it never gets old.  You'll still want to visit the church, but there will be crowds around it!


Everything you can think of--and a lot of things you would never thing of!--is available at the Sunday market in Tlacolula.  Here, beautiful squash blossoms, ready for use in your kitchen.  Did you know that only the male blossoms are harvested?  The female blossoms are left to develop squash.

The last Sunday in April, just after the end of the 2º Encuentro de Cocineras Tradicionales de Oaxaca, my travel companion, chef Silvana Salcido Esparza of Barrio Cafe in Phoenix, Arizona, and I rented a car at a rental agency just steps from our hotel in the city.  Even though I had booked the rental prior to our trip, the paperwork took much more time than we anticipated.  Nevertheless, we made it to the market in  Tlacolula before noon.


Not far from the entrance to the market, we looked for this delightful woman from San Marcos Tlapazola, a nearby potters' village.  We had spent some time talking with this woman at the Encuentro, where she and some other potters had a booth--you can see that they specialize in beautiful, softly shaped red clay kitchen and tableware.  She looks very serious, but her sense of humor doesn't quit.  We were often doubled over laughing at something one or the other of us had said.  San Marcos Tlapazola offers an annual red clay pottery festival--interested in going?  I'll find out the dates for 2019 and we'll set up a tour of that town and other artisan towns. 


Hanging links of chorizo oaxaqueño, a deliciously spicy pork sausage.  The chorizo here is stuffed into natural pork casings; the links are almost always shaped like little oval or round balls, about 2" in diameter. 


We were really hungry and were looking for a stand inside the market where we could eat Oaxaca-style barbacoa.  There was just enough bench seating at this booth for the two of us, so we slid in to try some of the house specialties.


The barbacoa!  We ordered a bowl each, plus a taco for each of us that was much bigger than we could possibly finish.  The bowl of barbacoa was filled with plenty of beef and consomé (the spicy liquid that the meat had cooked in overnight); we added our own condiments of sliced radishes, chopped cilantro, onion, and shredded lettuce, plus either red or green salsa.  Was it good?  My mouth is watering just looking at the pictures!


These guys enlivened our breakfast with their accordion/guitar duets and great songs.  Chef Silvana, whose family roots are in Chihuahua, requested that they sing El Corrido de Chihuahua.  They did, and what fun!  She was singing right along with them, and it felt like old home week.

Any of you who grow cilantro have probably experienced "bolting", the point at which the plant shoots up a tall, frondy stem filled with flowers.  Most garden sites recommend that you forget about stopping bolting and plant cilantro seed consecutively so you can always have fresh leaves.  On the other hand, you could let your cilantro bolt and harvest the fronds and flowers; that's what you're looking at in the photo above, for sale in the Tlacolula market.  Those little fronds are just as flavorful (if not even more intensely so) than standard cilantro leaves.  The flowers?  They're equally terrifically "cilantro" and are prized in traditional Mexican food!  Try it this summer--harvest from at least one bolted plant and you'll be a convert.


These delantales (aprons) are a symbol of home cooks in this part of Oaxaca.  Made from typically checkered fabric, they are then machine-embroidered with intricate and beautifully colorful flowers.  If you should see a woman wearing one of these aprons in another part of Mexico, you can be almost positive that she bought it in Tlacolula.  I have one--you should, too!


What in the world is this!  No, not a new-to-you kind of mushroom, and not little rocks--it's a special kind of cacao (chocolate) bean that's used to make chocolateatole, a drink particular to Oaxaca.  These cocoa beans, as they're known in English, have been buried in the ground for up to eight months, until the beans ferment and turn this grey and white color.  A cook can ferment them herself, or buy them already fermented in the market.  See here for more information about the preparation of chocolateatole.


These are Oaxaca-style polychromed jícaras; this style is often used as a drinking vessel, as well as for the preparation of tejate, a cold and refreshing chocolate drink.  The jícara is the mature fruit of the Crescentia alata tree, commonly known in English as the calabash tree and in Spanish as the tecomate, or güiro, among other regional names.  The immature fruit can be bound as it grows to shape it into elongated bottles, rattles, and other shapes.  When allowed to mature without intervention, it is normally round; the pulp is removed from the fruit and the shell is dried. Once dried, the jícaras are either carved (see photo below) or are painted with plant resins, which gives them a totally natural finish that resembles a chemical varnish. Because the jícara is round on the bottom, you'll need a ring-shaped reed base called a rodete or yagua to allow the jícara to sit straight on a table.


Most of the jícaras in this basketful at Oaxaca's Mercado 20 de noviembre are dried and then carved with wonderful animals.  The tecomate tree grows primarily in coastal areas and the jícaras are usually dried, carved or painted by artisans who live where the tree grows.


Rodete (base) for the jícara.  These are available from the jícara vendor in the size you need to support the size jícaras you purchase.  Ask the vendor to make sure you're buying the right size.  Photo courtesy Artefacto.com.


These are very large Oaxaca-style metates with their metlapil, or mano (the tool that's shaped like a rolling pin, alongside one of the metates).  All of these metates are painted with flowers, and some have the legends "Recuerdo de Oaxaca" (memento from Oaxaca) or "Regalo de los Padrinos" (gift from your godparents--in this case, padrinos of your wedding).  It's common for newlyweds to receive this crucial piece of kitchen equipment as a wedding gift.  If one whispers your name and you want it for a memento, be sure to try to pick it up before you buy it to carry it home to Cleveland with you.  You might reconsider.


The Tlacolula market isn't anything like the sterile experience of a supermarket, where you push your cart around, stuff it with boxed, canned, or frozen items, shove it to the checkout point, pay, pack up your plunder, and leave.  Most Mexican markets--whether municipal markets or tianguis (street markets)--are for shopping, for listening to music, for having a bite to eat, for catching up on how the new baby is, whose son graduated from secundaria (junior high school), who's getting married and to whom (and maybe why so quickly), how god-awful much prices have gone up, and simple chisme (gossip) in general.  The vendors all get to know you, and if you missed last Sunday's market, they ask if you were ill.  You know all the vendors, and you ask how their husbands/wives/children/in-laws are faring.  The market--whether it's the Sunday market or a weekday market--connects you to the pulse, the beating heart, of your town.  See, your neighbor will help you tuck those tomatoes into your rebozo (long shawl).  I'd far rather have this deep connection with my community than anonymous supermarket speed, wouldn't you?


We're back in the chapel at Templo Santa María de la Asunción, Tlacolula.  This is Jesús, in his triumphal entry into Jerusalem on Domingo de Ramos (Palm Sunday).


When I took this photograph at the Tlacolula market in April, I didn't notice the section of the newspaper this woman's flowers were wrapped in.  As far as I'm concerned, it says everything.

Next week, we travel farther south to the Isthmus of Tehuantepec, where we eat extraordinary food (cucarachas, anyone?), swoon over local textiles, go to a dance, and attend a couple of parties.  Come along with us, you don't want to miss a minute!    

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Witness to Life: The Rebozo in Mexico :: El Rebozo en México, Testigo de la Vida

Lovely young Agustina in her pink silk rebozo (long rectangular shawl).

A friend recently gave me a copy of an old and anonymous Mexican poem, written in Spanish, in homage to the rebozo.  The rebozo's importance to Mexican women cannot be exaggerated: from swaddled infancy to shrouded death, a rebozo accompanies our women throughout their days.  It is at once warmth, shade, infant's cradle, cargo-bearer, fancy dress, screen for delicious flirtation, and a sanctuary from prying eyes.

I hope you enjoy my translation.

Michoacán-made rebozos and guitar, on exhibit in Morelia.  Note the elaborate fringes on both rebozos.

My Rebozo

Rummaging through my closet one fine day
I found this garment—my old rebozo!
How long had it been resting there?
Even I can’t say exactly.
But seeing it brought back so many memories
Tears clouded my eyes and fell one by one as I held
My beloved rebozo!

Mother and infant daughter wear matching rebozos, Fiesta de Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe, Morelia, Michoacán.

What a faithful friend you have been.
Shall we relive just an instant of that far-distant past?
When I first showed you off, you were so beautiful, so new,
With your lively color and flowing fringe
Your reflection gleamed in the mirror like the morning star!


Fine lace rebozo still on the loom, from the Reboceros de Aranza (Aranza Rebozo Weavers Cooperative), Aranza, Michoacán.

Come on, come on, let me fling you over my heart
The way I did in bygone years,
Next to this heart that disappointment has turned to ash!
Don’t you remember that beautiful blouse I wore,
Embroidered with poppies and carnations?
Don’t you remember all my triumphs and successes,
And my flounced skirt, so full of its pretty sequins, beads, and glitter?

Lavender and white rebozo with elaborate fringe.

See, tightened to the span of my narrow waist and
Crossed just so over my straight young back
Showing off my fresh round breasts,
With two vertical parallel lines.
We stepped out to the beat of those long-ago songs,
That dance that determined my life.
Your fringes hung down just so!
And the two of us formed one soul.

Finely woven black and red rebozo.

How was it that I wanted him?  You know!
Rebozo, you heard first how I loved him!
Your fringes were hopeful prisoners of my teeth
While I heard the soft slow songs of love
Oh perverse rebozo, unfaithful friend!
You were my confidante and my hiding place
You pushed me, burning, into romance
Wrapped in your fringes as if they were cherished arms.

Intricately patterned deep red rebozo.

But what’s this I see!
An ugly hole
That looks like a toothless mouth
Bursting out into furious laughter.
You laugh at my romantic memories?
You make fun of my long gone triumphs?
You know that the one who loved me has forgotten me
And that my soul, just like my love, is sacked and plundered?

Two elderly women share a secret joke in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán.

And you—you aren’t even a shadow of what you were
And because we don’t remember what we have been
We are betrayed!  Old!  Faded!
I’ll throw you in a box with other trash—
You, who are a traitor and so worn out!
How strange and how complicated
Just like you, I also betrayed—sometimes--in little ways!
Those sweet lies and silly nonsense
That made so many of my yesterdays happy.

White and black rebozo fringed with feathers.

Laugh, rebozo!  Don’t you see that I’m laughing--not angry?
The tears that spring from these eyes
Are just laughter, nothing more.  I’m not crying, I’m laughing!
But how can I be laughing, when I hate you so?
Let your mantel cover my head
The way it did in days long past, when I was possessed
By a kiss so strong, so violent.

Gold and salmon rebozo de gala (fancy dress).

No!  I will not throw you away, old rebozo!
You have a soul like mine
A Mexican woman's soul, wild, unmanageable
That will not bend even when faced with death itself!
I will fold you up and keep you in the closet
And there, like a holy relic,
My heart will once again put on
Your flowing fringe.

Elderly flower seller, Pátzcuaro, Michoacán.

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The Last Part of Christmas in Mexico: the Feast of the Candelaria and the Niño Dios.

Niños Dios: one Christ Child, many colors. Mercado Medellín, Colonia Roma, Mexico City. 

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 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.  Their diaper, molded with the statue, is their only clothing.  You get to dress him yourself!

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 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!' highly populated nacimiento--250 figures and counting.  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 Christian Christmas story.  A family's nacimiento may well contain hundreds--even thousands--of figures, but all nacimientos have as their heart and soul la Sagrada Familia (the Holy Family: the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, and the baby Jesus).  This centerpiece of the nacimiento is known in Spanish as el Misterio (the Mystery).  The nacimiento is set up early--mine is always arranged at the very beginning of December--but the Niño Dios does not make his appearance until midnight on the night of December 24, when he is soothed by a precious lullaby 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 at this season, 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.

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 and tucked gently away till next year.  Some families even buy him a wee throne, just his size, and seat him in a prominent place in their homes for the year.

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.  A few years ago, 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.

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).  See the string of coins placed across his outfit?

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 pick you up from 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.


Mexico Cooks!' very own sleeping Niño Dios.  He measures just 7" from the top of his head to his wee toes.  His purple and gold finery, hand-made for him using sequined and embroidered fabric from Oaxaca, is very elegant.

 
This lovely video from Carapan, Michoacán shows both the gravity and the joy (and the confetti!) with which a Niño Dios is carried to the parroquia (parish church).

Carefully, carefully carry the Niño Dios to the parish church, where the priest will bless him and his new clothing, along with a blessing for 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.

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Mexican Kitchen Sayings :: Dichos de la Cocina Mexicana

Frijoles boil in a clay pot placed on a creative fogón (on-the-ground cooking fire).  The fire ring is the wheel rim of a truck, the wood is what was available.  The clay pot ensures old-fashioned flavor and Mexico Cooks!' interest in the cooking process ensured old-fashioned hospitality. "When will the beans be ready?" I asked.  "Come back at 1:30," the cook told us.  "They'll be ready, and I'll make some tortillas."

Twenty or more years ago, Mexico Cooks! ate a once-in-a-lifetime meal in Mexico.  Simplicity itself, the comida (midday meal) consisted of steamed white rice piled with home-grown sliced bananas, homemade fresh cheese, frijoles de la olla (beans in their pot liquor, freshly cooked as in the photo above), and hand-patted tortillas, hot from the comal (griddle).  That meal, served in an outdoor kitchen, was our introduction to Mexican tradition, authenticity, and hospitality, all on a level we had never known before.

Food, shared with friends and acquaintances, brings us together in elemental hospitality.  Food and the sharing of it in Mexico have, since earliest times, given rise to wonderful dichos (sayings) from the kitchen. 

This hand-embroidered tablecloth was made for display at Pátzcuaro's Museo Regional del Arte Popular (Regional Folk Arts Museum).  Every one of its many, many sayings stiched into the cloth is a dicho de la cocina.  The one closest to the bottom of the photo says, "Del plato a la boca, se cae la sopa." ("Between the plate and the mouth, the soup spills"--which means "between one's intention and one's accomplishment, a lot can go wrong".

Quoting a dicho de la cocina always brings a smile.  Here are a few favorites:

• Mujer que guisa, se casa a prisa.  (The woman who cooks is soon married.)
• A comer y a misa, a la primer llamada.  (To eat and to Mass, go at the first call.)
• Mejor llegar a tiempo que ser invitado.  (It's better to arrive on time than to be invited.)

Rich or poor, people always invite others to share their table.  It's seriously offensive to refuse an offered meal.

• Al que nace para tamal, del cielo le caen las hojas.  If you're born to be a tamal, your corn husks will fall from heaven.
• Come a gusto y placentero y que ayune tu heredero.  Eat what you like and at your pleasure--let your descendants fast!
• Cuando el ratón está lleno, hasta la harina le sabe amarga.  When the mouse is full, even flour tastes bitter to him.

Red pozole, made with pork, chiles, and nixtamal de maíz cacahuatzintle (a type of processed dried corn), is one of Mexico's most comforting meals.  For a wonderfully rich recipe, try this one from our friend Rolly's favorite cook, Doña Martha.

• Desayunar como rey, comer como príncipe y cenar como mendigo.  Eat breakfast like a king, eat at midday like a prince, and have supper like a beggar.
• El hambre es la buena, no la comida.  Hunger is the good thing, not the food.
• El que parte y comparte, se queda con la mejor parte.  The one who cuts and serves the food gets the best part.

Uchepos de leche are a regional Michoacán specialty served for breakfast or supper.

• Fuchi… ¡quiero más!  It's AWFUL...give me some more!
• Gástalo en la cocina y no en medicina.  Spend it in the kitchen, not on medicine.
• Invierno buen tiempo para el herrero, el panadero y el chocolatero.  Winter's a good time for the ironworker, the baker, and the chocolate maker.

Mexican caldo de pollo--traditional chicken soup--is hearty with shredded chicken, carrots, calabacita (similar to zucchini), potatoes, and chayote.  Dressed and seasoned at the table with a spritz of jugo de limón (Key lime juice), roughly chopped cilantro, minced onion, and a spoonful of spicy salsa, it's absolutely essential to one's comfort and well-being.

• La comida entra por los ojos. Food comes in through the eyes.
• La paciencia es amarga, pero sus frutos son dulces.  Patience is bitter, but its fruits are sweet.
• La venganza es dulce al paladar, pero amarga para la garganta.  Vengance is sweet in the mouth, but bitter in the throat.

An outdoor kitchen is still common in rural areas of Mexico.  This one is lovely, dressed in soft blue paint and flowers.

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De Vaga en Veracruz, Tierra Jarocha :: Vacation Wanderings in Veracruz, Part V

The truly wonderful Hotel Tajín.  Our reservation was for one night, but the town of Papantla and the hotel were so delightful that we stretched it out to three nights!  We enjoyed huge quiet junior suites, comfortable beds, great showers, excellent above-the-call-of-duty service, and prices lower than we'd thought possible.  A big plus: Hotel Tajín is just a block from Papantla's main square and only a few steps farther from its two markets.  If you need a place to stay in Papantla, don't hesitate to book here.  All photos copyright Mexico Cooks! unless otherwise noted.

We're untiring food snoops, always seeking out any option for any kind of new taste, modern or millennial.  In most regions of Mexico, traditional cooking is a great opening for getting acquainted with ancient cultures, ancient customs, and ancient rituals.  Veracruz--especially the Papantla area and its surroundings--is one of those very special parts of the country, where ancient cuisine continues to be the heart and soul of the region. 


Inveterate investigators of food in general, we were on a hopeful hunt for traditional and regional Totonaco food. The tamales pintos that we tasted with the cocineras de humo near El Tajín had served only to whet our appetites for more of these Veracruz specialties.  When we awakened after a restful night's sleep in our quiet hotel, our first stop would be Mercado Hidalgo, just a couple of blocks from Hotel Tajín.  We were jonesing for a breakfast of zacahuil, another kind of Veracruz tamal.  Many of the food booths at the Mercado Hidalgo specialize in regional zacahuil. We found a table at Sacahuil Rosita, on the upstairs level of the market.
 

This zacahuil totonaco is prepared with masa martejada (dough made of coarsely broken corn), chile guajillo (a mild-flavored red chile), other mild spices, and pork meat. Cooked in a pot rather than wrapped in corn husks or banana leaves and fire-baked, it's ladled out into your bowl and served with a choice of salsas.  We were glad to have tried the zacahuil, but we weren't thrilled with its somewhat mushy texture or its bland flavors.  We hoped for better food luck later in the day.


Meet don Rosendo, dressed in the traje típico totonaco (typical Totonaco men's clothing).  He was quite pleased to be asked for his photo. Courtesy Pamela Gordon.

While we were out and about talking to vanilla producers, the name of one remarkable Papantla restaurant kept popping up in conversation: Restaurante Nakú Papanteco, offering traditional Papantla and Totonaco dishes.  Lucky us: when we got back to the hotel, it was time for cena (supper), we were hungry, and a taxi stand was just outside our door.  TAXI!


Restaurante Nakú Papanteco, built under a palapa, welcomed us warmly, brought us the menu and something to drink, and we settled in to our task: to order food that would wow us with its traditional sabores totonacos (Totonaco flavors).


The Takxwayajun (caldo de pollo estilo totonaco con chile de mole, yerbabuena y cebollina) [traditional Totonaco chicken soup with chile de mole, mint, and chives], was hot and cozy on a cool December evening. The traditional Totonaco herbs, chile, and tender chicken combined for deep satisfaction.


An appetizer plate: the tabla de tripas de leche en chile seco.  Tripas de leche are the milk glands in a cow's udder, as opposed to tripas, which are intestines. Menudo, which many people know as tripe, is the different linings of any of a bovine's four stomachs. 


We were so interested in trying this chicken, bathed in very subtly-flavored vanilla sauce.  Last week, Mexico Cooks! explained the profound link between Papantla and vanilla, but the flavor is infrequently used in savory dishes.

Who are the Totonaco?  The indigenous community known as Tutunacú (in the Totonaco language, it means three hearts) dates from approximately 300 to 1200 CE (Common Era).  By the time the Spanish arrived on the shores of what is now Veracruz, the Mexica (known much later as the Azteca) had conquered and overtaken the region encompassing El Tajín, Papantla, and Cempoala.  The Spanish completed the takeover; diseases formerly unknown to the indigenous people decimated their population.


Varinia Juárez and Lorenzo Collado, the delightful and highly committed owners of Nakú, who so generously shared their time, food, friendship, and some Totonaco history.  Photo courtesy Restaurante Nakú.

"In the Totonaco culture, we love and profoundly respect nature, Mother Earth, and the four elements that govern the universe and the consequences of our lives.  To live without these considerations is to live without a reason for being.  There is no moment in the Totonaco life in which we don't consider this world view; nearly every action carries a ritual with it.  Illnesses arise and are healed considering the wind, fire, water, and earth.  In the fields, sowing follows the state of the moon and all farming cycles.  In building, we ask the god of the forest for permission to cut down trees, and at the same time we beg forgiveness from Mother Earth for damaging her. With regard to food, women are offered up to the gods, so that in their homes, no one goes hungry.

"Nakú Restaurante Papanteco was born from a vision of rescuing, preserving, and promoting the Totonaco culture by means of its gastronomy, offering traditional Papanteco and Totonaco recipes, serving farm products endemic to the region and prepared by indigenous hands. The concept is enhanced by buying and selling artisan handwork and other works of art guaranteed to be made by Totonaco hands.  Nakú is redolent of firewood, vanilla, history, ancestral culture--but above all, Nakú is filled with the fragrance of love.  We love what we do, because our food brings together all of this yearning to be with family, to remember those long moments marked by the hand mill, the comal (clay griddle) the metate (rectangular 3-legged grinding stone), and in this environment, the grandmother, the daughters, and the granddaughters are the leading characters.  Today, the fragrance of firewood at Nakú evokes in us the uses and customs of a people that, day by day, are being lost."


Squash seeds toasting over a wood fire, on a clay comal (griddle).


Mayora Celsa Santes Cimbrón, grinding pepitas (toasted squash seeds) using a molcajete and mano.  A mayora, always an extremely knowledgeable and skilled woman, is the head of a kitchen.


Mayora Celsa continued to grind the pepitas until they released enough of their oils to gather into a dough; she then formed them into little orejas (ear-shaped dumplings) that she served for breakfast in a regional vegetable soup, the morning after we'd had cena at Nakú.


Mayora Celsa, forming the orejas.  You can see the first few in the bowl at the bottom of the photo.  Photo courtesy Pamela Gordon.


Totonaco tortillas untadas con pipián.  Freshly made tortillas, spread with freshly rendered pork lard and sprinkled with toasted, molcajete-ground squash seeds.  I wish you have an opportunity to taste these--a simple, elegant and completely heavenly thing, the stuff of dreams.


Freshly harvested hongos de chaca (local wild mushrooms); mayora Celsa prepared them in empanadas for our breakfast.


Nakú Restaurante Papanteco opened on February 14, 2013.  If you are ever in Papantla, don't miss it.  If you're even near Papantla, take the time, make a detour, eat the marvelous food on its menu.  Tell them Mexico Cooks! sent you.  On second thought, take me with you.

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