Category: Arts and Crafts

Patron Saint of The Impossible: Saint Jude Thaddeus–San Judas Tadeo–in Mexico City

Mexico City's Templo San Hipólito, built starting in 1559 to commemorate the 1520 victory of the Mexica (later known as the Aztecs) over the Spanish invaders in a battle that became known as la Batalla de la Noche Triste (the Battle of the Sad Night), one of the worst defeats the Spanish suffered at the hands of the people they subsequently conquered. The church was finished late in the 17th century.

The church location has been a major influence in Mexico City since those early times. Prior to the building of the church, the first mental hospital in the Americas, founded by Bernardino Álvarez, stood on this corner. San Hipólito was the first patron saint of Mexico's capital city.

A prayer card image of St. Jude Thaddeus, patron saint of difficult or impossible causes. Your Catholic mother or grandmother–or maybe you yourself– probably have an image like this tucked into a Bible.

Not your grandmother's version of St. Jude. Photo courtesy Tattoomuch.com.

Today, Templo San Hipólito is the site of enormous devotion to Saint Jude Thaddeus, known in Spanish as San Judas Tadeo. The most venerated statue of the saint in Mexico is here, and Mexico is deeply devoted to him and to his image. San Judas's feast day is celebrated on October 28 each year, when as many as 100,000 faithful converge on the small church. The huge number of faithful who visit their beloved saint–starting with the first Mass celebrated at midnight–inevitably cause chaotic traffic jams at the corner where the church is located, one of the busiest junctions in Mexico City.

[youtube=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yoEsO7rDFoA&w=420&h=315]
The video will give you an idea of the devotion to St. Jude.

Devotion to San Judas in Mexico City is so great that his feast day is celebrated not only on October 28 each year, but also on the 28th of every month. In July of this year, Mexico Cooks! went to visit the saint on his day.

Merchandise sold by vendors around the perimeter of the church–merchandise like these rosaries–is often colored green, white, and gold, the traditional colors of San Judas's clothing.

My companion and I arrived at Templo San Hipólito relatively early, but people had been pouring into the church for each Mass of the day; on the 28th, Masses are said on the hour, all day. This view, from outside the church entrance, did not prepare us for the packed sanctuary.

Once we entered the sanctuary, we were unable to advance beyond the half-way point due to the enormous number of people already inside. At the top middle of this photo, you see a very large statue of the Virgin Mary. Below her is San Judas.

Unlike predominately female crowds at Masses in other churches or at prayer services devoted to other saints, the majority of this crowd is male. While women are certainly present, you can see in the photo that the people in front of us were almost all male.

Custom here is to wrap a figure of San Judas in scarves, scapulars, beads, and medals. When I asked this woman, seated on a bench along the inside of the church, if I might take a picture of her statue, she said yes, but bowed her head to show him, not herself. It's also customary to take small gifts, such as the candy this woman is holding, to share with others at the church.

St. Martín de Porres is also much-venerated in Mexico. This life-size statue of him, holding a real broom, is at one side of the San Hipólito interior. Notice that much of the broom straw has been broken off and taken by the faithful. Click on the
photo (and any photo) to enlarge it.

This young man gave me permission to photograph him and his statue.

Many parents dress their babies in the green, gold, and white colors of the saint. Usually they have made a vow to St. Jude to do this in thanks for a favor granted; oftentimes, the favor granted is the birth of a healthy child after complications of pregnancy.

The man who carried this elaborately wrapped statue during the entire Mass set it on a stone wall so that I could photograph it.

Vendors along the sidewalks sell every kind of St. Jude-related goods. People carry these candles into the church to be blessed, and then carry them home to light their personal altars dedicated to the saint.

We visited many of the booths selling figures of San Judas. The sizes range from about six inches high–like the ones at the left in the front row–to life size or larger. The seated figure just right of center represents Jesús Malverde, an 'informal' saint (one revered by the people but not a saint in the church). Jesús Malverde, a Sinaloa legend, is also known as the 'narco saint', the 'angel of the poor', or the 'generous bandit'. The green sign refers to the copitas (little goblets) filled with San Judas's seeds of abundance just above it. Each goblet with seeds costs 10 pesos. That's approximately 60 US cents, at today's exchange rate.

Feeling like your world is standing on its head? You might want to try a chat with St. Jude.

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3 de October de 2015
Mexico Cooks! and the Joy of the Purépecha Language in Michoacán

A portion of the language-teaching wall in Santa Fe de la Laguna, Michoacán.

In early March, Mexico Cooks! and a friend spent a glorious day in Santa Fe de la Laguna, Michoacán. We walked in the village, basking like lizards in the warm sun, slipping into one tiny shop and then another searching for the best rebozo (a type of shawl). We stepped into the welcome shady patio of an artisan friend, a potter. When we finished at the potter's home, we took our time ambling to the car. Turning a corner, we found ourselves face to face with a vocabulary lesson!

In the Purépecha language, misitu means gato, or cat, if you speak English.

I am always surprised by the number of well-educated people, both native Spanish-speakers and people whose native language is English, who believe that Mexico's indigenous people speak dialects of Spanish. Consider that the indigenous groups of what is now Mexico lived on this land for thousands of years before the arrival of the conquistadores (Spanish conquerers). Until the 16th century, no one in what is now Mexico spoke Spanish. Each indigenous group spoke its own language and each group continues, to one degree or another, to use that language today. Here's a link to a list of the indigenous languages spoken in today's Mexico: Mexico's indigenous languages.

Tindi is the mosca–the common house fly.

In the state of Michoacán, four indigenous languages are spoken. The most common is Purépecha, with approximately 100,000 native speakers. Next is Mazahua, with nearly 4,000 speakers, followed by 2700 coastal region speakers of Nahúatl. Approximately 600 people in the easternmost part of the state speak Otomí.

Purépecha is considered to be an isolate language, with no connection to any other language spoken in the region, in the country, or in any other country. Linguists have found only remote ties to the Quechua language in Perú.

Xanchaki: the burro, or donkey.

Kuanasï is the rana–the frog. Note the umlaut over the letter ï. Because of the umlaut, the pronunciation of the preceding 's' becomes 'sh'. Kuanashi!

Axuni, or venado–the deer.

Most Purépecha children learn their parents' native language as a first language, often learning Spanish only after they are more than halfway through primary school. Although Purépecha has been a written language since the 16th century, standard written Purépecha only began to come into existence in 1939. Even now there is no consensus as to how the language should be written.

Uakasï, the vaca–the cow. Note that uakasï is pronounced with the 'sh' sound.

Utuksï, the caracol–snail! Now you know how to pronounce that sï at the end of the word.

Like all of the languages native to what is now Mexico, Purépecha is in danger of becoming extinct. Fortunately, both the state government as well as the native speakers are coming to understand the cultural and historic importance of keeping the language alive. It's taught in primary schools for the first three years. Once a child starts fourth grade, classes are bilingual Purépecha and Spanish.

K'útu is the tortuga–the turtle.

Puki is the jaguar–the big native cat. Its scientific name is Panthera onca, and it is the only big cat native to the Americas. In this painting, you see a person dressed in the jaguar dance costume, rather than the actual animal.

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29 de August de 2015
More Travels Around Mexico: Sights You’ll See Along Your Way

Rueda de la fortuna (ferris wheel), Cuanajo, Michoacán. Every small town, every city, has its annual fiestas patronales (patron saint's fiestas). A ferris wheel is never an option–it's always a necessity!

Templo Santo Domingo, San Cristobal de las Casas, Chiapas. Every candle represents a prayer, whether of gratitude or petition or simple remembrance.

Mojiganga (10 foot tall papel maché dance figure). On parade, San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato. This band-following girl partied hearty as she twirled her way down a cobblestone street.

Guajolotes callejeros (turkeys in the street), San José de las Torres, Michoacán.

Chicharrón (fried pork skin) with small squares of meat left attached to the skin. The creamy meat combines perfectly with the crispy skin for a big punch of flavor. Mercado de Jamaica, Mexico City.

Burrita y su dueño cargados (loaded donkey and its owner) with corn stalks, Ajijic, Jalisco. You have to look hard to see this hard-working burrita.

Trajineras (traditional boats), Xochimilco, Mexico City. There are few things more fun than a Sunday outing on the canals of Xochimilco! It's bumper boats all the way, with a mariachi accompaniment.

Casa particular (private home) with bougainvillea, San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas. The dream of Mexico…

Tourist police at Parque Alameda Central, Centro Histórico, Mexico City. They're from the government, and they're truly here to help you.

Pájaro de la suerte (fortune telling canary), Morelia, Michoacán. For just a few pesos, the little bird will pull your fortune–written on a folded slip of paper–from the box to the left of its cage. But watch out! Do you want to see more of your fortune? You'll have to pay again.

Dog obedience school, held daily, Parque México, Colonia La Condesa, Mexico City. Dogs of every spot and stripe learn to sit, stay, and keep quiet in this canine institute of study.

Guerrero-style pozole blanco, Mexico City. If you love pozole and want to know where to get a spectacular bowlful like this, you'll have to come along with me. The spot has been a well-guarded secret for more than 60 years.

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20 de June de 2015
Your Flaneur in Mexico: Out and About in the Distrito Federal and Beyond

Roof at Casa Luis Barragán, Calle General Francisco Ramírez 12 and 14, Col. Daniel Garza, Distrito Federal. If you are at all interested in modern Mexican architecture, this museum is a must-see. Arquitecto Luis Barragán changed the face of Mexican building, pioneering in the use of forms and space.

Baby bok choy at the Mercado de San Juan de Dios. Each of these little bok choys is about six inches long, perfect for steaming. Most of the most-used fresh Asian vegetables are regularly available at this downtown Mexico City market.

One of my favorite market stall signs: Bacon Shop "La Guadalupana", a Mercado de Jamaica pork butcher puesto (booth) that sells far more than bacon.

Just around the corner from Mexico Cooks!' Mexico City headquarters, this tree wears a multi-colored and textured knit jacket.

A wheelbarrow full of mamey (pouteria sapota), perfectly ripe, beautifully cut, creamy sweetness. Sunday market, Tlacolula, Oaxaca.

Molinillos (carved chocolate beaters), Sunday market, Tlacolula, Oaxaca.

Pink graffiti on a window. The little sign reads, "Fresh paint".

Tomatoes for salsa, roasting directly on the red-hot embers. Private home, Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca. "Sí, siempre los asamos así. Agarran más sabor." ('Yes, we always roast them this way. They take on more flavor.')

Tortillas freshly toasted on the comal (griddle). These tortillas, prepared in Puebla by traditional cooks from Querétaro, bear a "Q" stamp indicating their place of origin. In long-ago years, tortillas were often stamped with similar carved wooden stamps. The stamps were carved with pictures or letters that identified the owners.

Crystallized fruits, Mercado Medellín, Mexico City. Clockwise from the top: a whole orange, a slice of sweet potato, a slice of squash, a whole green limón, a pale slice of chilacayote squash, another orange, more sweet potato, and several wheels of pineapple. In the center, a whole limón and a fig.

Fresh morel mushrooms, Mercado de San Juan, Mexico City. Morels are available at this market fresh during the rainy season and dried all year long.

A pre-Hispanic waterspout in the shape of a monkey's head. Museo Nacional de Antropología, Mexico City.

Jícaras (hand-carved or painted drinking gourds), Mercado Benito Juárez, Oaxaca.

Misitu, the Purépecha word for cat. Mural detail, Santa Fe de la Laguna, Michoacán.

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13 de June de 2015
Seven Points of Tradition: The Piñata in Mexico

Traditional piñatas ready for sale decorate the door to the Hernández family's tiny taller (workshop) on Av. Lázaro Cárdenas.

Among clean ollas de barro (clay pots), plastic receptacles filled with engrudo (flour/water paste), and colorful, neatly stacked rounds of papel de china (tissue paper), Sra. María Dolores Hernández (affectionately known as Doña Lolita) sits on an upturned bucket. She celebrates her birthday on December 24, and she still lights up–just like a Christmas tree–when she talks about her business and her life.

The last point of the star-shaped piñata is in Doña Lolita's hands, nearly ready to be glued into place.

"When I was a young woman, raising my family together with my husband, it was hard for us to make a good living here in Morelia. We had eight children (one has died, but six girls and a boy survive) and we struggled to make ends meet. My husband was a master mason, but I wanted to help out with the finances. I knew a woman who made piñatas, and I thought, 'I can do that.' So I started trying my hand, nearly 60 years ago."

Doña Lolita adds another layer of newspaper to this piñata in progress. "You can't put too much newspaper on the pot, because it will take too long to break," she explained. "And you can't put too little on it, either, because then the first child to hit it will break it. That's no good, either. You just have to know how much to use." Click on the photo to enlarge it and get a good look at the clay pot inside the paper maché.

"The woman who made piñatas wouldn't give away her secrets, so I had to figure everything out for myself. You should have seen me the first time I tried to make a bird's beak for a parrot-shaped piñata! A man I knew told me to make it out of chapopote (a kind of tar), so I did. It hardened all right, but later in the day the weather warmed up and that beak dripped down to here! What a mess! I finally figured out how to make the shape out of paper, but I just about broke my head thinking about it!"

Pre-cut rounds of papel de china (tissue paper) wait to be glued onto a piñata. The black plastic bag holds strips of newspaper.

Doña Lolita told me about the different grades of paper used to create different styles of decoration on the piñata, and she explained different kinds of paper-cutting techniques; she's absolutely the expert. Here, her son-in-law Fernando cuts tissue paper for fringe. His hands are so fast with the scissors it made my head spin; he can even cut without looking.

"In those days, the clay pots cost four and a half pesos for a gross–yes, for 144. In the old days, I usually sold about 7,000 piñatas every December, so you can imagine the investment I made just in clay pots. In the 1960s, I could sell a large piñata for seven pesos. Now–well, now the pots are much more expensive, so naturally the piñatas cost more, too. The large ones cost 45 pesos. This year, I'll sell about 1,000 piñatas just for the posadas. "

Piñatas in various stages of completion hang from every beam in Doña Lolita's tiny workshop.

"When my daughter Mercedes was about eight years old, she wanted to learn to make piñatas. She'd been watching me do it since she was born. So I taught her, and I've taught the whole family.  Piñatería (making piñatas) is what's kept us going." Doña Lolita smiled hugely. "My children have always been extremely hard workers. There was a girl for each part of making the piñatas. Every year, we started making piñatas in August and finished at the beginning of January.

This gigantic piñata, still unfinished, measures almost six feet in diameter from point to point.

"One time, we had so many piñatas to finish that I didn't think we could do it. So I thought, 'if we work all night long, we can finish them by tomorrow morning.' Only I couldn't figure out how to keep the children awake to work all night." She laughed. "I went to the drugstore and bought pills to stay awake. I knew I could keep myself awake, but I gave one pill to each of the children. And in just a little while, I was working and they were sleeping, their heads fell right down into their work! What! Those pills didn't work at all! The next day I went back to the drugstore and asked the pharmacist about it. 'Oh no! I thought you asked me for pills to make them sleep!' he said." Doña Lolita laughed again. "We finished all the piñatas in spite of those pills, but you had better believe me, I never tried anything that foolish again."

Doña Lolita builds piñatas with her son-in-law, Fernando Cedeño Herrera (left), her daughter Mercedes Ayala Hernández, her grandchildren and her great-grandchildren. A close friend, Oswaldo Gutiérrez López (background), works with the family. Her grandson Enrique, 19, says he intends to keep the family business going.

Oswaldo Gutiérrez works on this piñata in the doorway of the tiny taller. Doña Lolita has taught many people the art of creating traditional piñatas, but her family and her loyal customers say she's the best piñatera (piñata maker) in Morelia.

"People come from everywhere to buy my piñatas. I don't have to take them out to sell; I only sell them here in the taller. Because they're so beautiful and well-made, all the best people in Morelia–and lots of people from other places–come to seek me out and order piñatas for their parties. I've taught my family that our work is our pride and our heritage, and my children have all taught their children the same. That is our legacy, our family tradition."

Fill the piñata with candy like these bags of traditional colación (hard candies especially for Christmas).

But why piñatas, and why in December? During the early days of the Spanish conquest, the piñata was used as a catechetical tool. The body of the piñata represented Satan; each of the seven points symbolized the seven capital sins (pride, lust, gluttony, rage, greed, laziness, and envy). Breaking the piñata equated with the triumph of good over evil, overpowering Satan, overcoming sin, and enjoying the delights of God's creation as they pour out of the piñata. Doña Lolita's most sought-after piñatas continue the traditional style, but she also creates piñatas shaped like roosters, peacocks, half-watermelons, deer, half moons, and once, an enormous octopus!

Now, for the nine nights from December 16 through December 24, Mexico celebrates las posadas. Each evening, a re-enactment of the Christmas story brings children dressed as la Virgencita María (ready to give birth to her baby) and her husband Sr. San José (and a street filled with angels, shepherds, and other costumed children) along the road to Bethlehem, searching for a place to stay. There is no place: Bethlehem's posadas (inns) are filled. Where will the baby be born! For the re-enactment, people wait behind closed doors at certain neighborhood houses. The santos peregrinos (holy pilgrims) knock, first at one door, then another. At each house, they sing a song, begging lodging for the night. At each house, the neighbors inside turn them away in song: 'No room here! Go away! Bother someone else!' Watch a lovely slide show: Las Posadas.

Freshly toasted cacahuates (peanuts) also stuff the piñata. The wooden box holding the peanuts is actually a measure, as is the oval metal box.

After several houses turn away la Virgen, San José, and their retinue, they finally receive welcome at the last designated house. After the pilgrims sing their plea for a place to stay, the guests assembled inside sing their welcome,  "Entren santos peregrinos…" (Come in, holy pilgrims…). The doors are flung open, everyone piles into the house, and a huge party starts. Traditional foods like ponche (a hot fruit punch), buñuelos (a thin fried dough covered with either sugar or syrup), and tamales (hundreds of tamales!) pour out of the kitchen as revelers sing villancicos (Mexican Christmas carols) and celebrate the coming of the Niño Dios (the Child Jesus). Finally, all the children line up to put on a blindfold and take swings at a piñata stuffed with candy, seasonal fruits, and peanuts.

This five-pound bag of hard candies shows a blindfolded (but peeking) boy ready to break open the filled piñata. Luis Gómez, a merchant at Local 290, Mercado Independencia in Morelia, offers these and other bags of piñata candies.

Mandarinas (tangerines) are in season at Christmastime and round out the goodies in lots of piñatas.

The piñata, stuffed with all it will hold, hangs from a rope during the posada party. A parent or neighbor swings it back and forth, up and down, as each child takes a turn at breaking it open with a big stick. Watch these adorable kids whack away.

The piñata, lovely though it may be, is purely temporary. Nevertheless, happy memories of childhood posadas with family and friends last a lifetime.

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

20 de December de 2014
A Mezcal Primer

Sign in front of a Mexican welding shop: "We weld everything except a broken heart. For that we have mezcal."

In case it hasn't hit your town quite yet, a tsunami is on its way from Mexico to you. Get ready: mezcal is on the roll! Here in Mexico City and in many other areas of the country, recently ho-hum tequila is being replaced by this high-powered delight of the hundreds-of-years-old wave of the future. Many of you may already know mezcal as that bottle from Oaxaca with the worm in it, but Oaxaca is just one of the Mexican states where mezcal is produced. And just an aside: 99.999% of the time, that bottle with the worm in it is for tourists and other rank neophytes: it's usually rotgut.

An agave atrovirens cactus–the same photo Mexico Cooks! published last week–that is used to make pulque. The maguey cactus is also the base for mezcal.

Although there are upwards of 200 varieties of maguey, relatively few of those make up the majority of mezcales. Those few are: espadín (used for 90% of all mezcal production), tobala, tobasiche, tepeztate, arroqueño, and the maguey pictured above–the cupreata which grows in Michoacán and several other states.

Mezcal is produced for personal use and for sale in all of Mexico's 31 states, but only eight of those states have received the prized Denominación de Origen (abbreviated DO: certification of geographic origin). The largest mezcal production in the country is in the state of Oaxaca, which in 1994 was the first Mexican state to receive its Denominación de Origen. Today, seven other states have the certification. Most recently (in November 2012), the state of Michoacán received its DO status.

Cupreata maguey cactus in flower, near Etúcuaro, Michoacán. The flowering spike of the maguey is the quiote. A cupreata maguey plant needs eight to ten years to mature; like its cousin the common century plant, the entire plant begins to wither and die once the cupreata flowers. By day, birds pollinate the maguey. By night, bats do the same. Once the flower dies, the plant produces runners that grow into baby plants–and the life cycle of the maguey begins again.

[youtube=://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbQBbqjUyvE&w=420&h=236]
Rocío Díaz of Michoacán, creator of the acclaimed and prize-winning video Documezcal, has graciously given Mexico Cooks! permission to use her video as a learning tool in this article. In a way that words cannot, the video gives you direct insight into artisan production of mezcal.

Mexico Cooks! recently hopped on a guajolotero (what you might think of as a chicken bus) to meet some new friends who promised to take me to meet an artisanal mezcal producer in Michoacán (west-central Mexico), where mezcal and its production are a way of life.

Every small town has at least one mezcal producer and frequently more than one; some small producers have been distilling the drink for private use for 50 years or more. Commercial production of mezcal is relatively recent; many connoisseurs consider commercial mezcales to be inferior. The good news? The best mezcal is the one you like, not the one someone–even if that someone is me–tells you to like.

Among people who drink mezcal and study its history, origins, and traditions, there is a good bit of controversy regarding its production and destinations. Until next week, I leave you with your homework: read the linked article so that you will know what the controversies are. Whether or not these matter to you is entirely up to you. Remember that the article is strictly about the mezcales of Oaxaca. Photo and article (click the link here) courtesy MezcalPhD.

Next week, we will talk about a particular mezcal from Michoacán.

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

12 de July de 2014
Abigail Mendoza Ruiz and Restaurante Tlamanalli: Food for the Gods in Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca

Emblematic of Oaxaca: chocolate caliente (hot and foamy hand-ground hot chocolate) prepared in water and served in a bowl. Zaachila market, Oaxaca.

There's much more to Oaxaca's magic than simply its capital city, which is of course fantastic in its own right. Driving in any direction from the city, twisting two-lane roads lead to small towns; each town has a weekly market, and each market has beauties of its own.

At the Zaachila Friday market, a vendor sold calabaza en tacha (squash cooked in brown sugar syrup) covered with a leaf to keep insects away and maintain the squash fresh and ready to eat.

Another vendor offered flor de frijolón (the red flowers of a large, black, local bean known elsewhere as ayocote negro).

Tejate, Oaxaca's emblematic cold, foamy, and refreshing chocolate beverage, scooped out of this clay bowl with a red-lacquered jícara into the size cup you prefer: small, medium, or large.

When Mexico Cooks! traveled recently to Oaxaca, joyous anticipation and a letter of introduction were stowed among my baggage. For years I had read about and admired (albeit from afar) Abigail Mendoza Ruiz and her sisters, but we had never met. This trip would fix that: two days after my scheduled arrival, we had an appointment for comida (Mexico's main meal of the day) at the Mendoza sisters' Restaurante Tlamanalli in Teotitlán del Valle. The restaurant's name, a Náhuatl word, means several things: it's the name of the Zapotec kitchen god, it means abundance, and it means offering. For me, newly arrived in Teotitlán del Valle, the word Tlamanalli meant, 'you are about to have the experience of a lifetime'.

Teotitlán del Valle is best known as the principal Oaxaca rug-weavers' town. Among its five to six thousand inhabitants, the majority weaves wool to make lovely rugs and also combines the weaver's tasks with agricultural work, growing both marketable and personal-use corn and other vegetables plus raising poultry for personal use.

Detail of the rustic wooden rueca (spinning wheel) used by the Teotitlán del Valle rugmakers for spinning fine wool yarns.

Shown in this group of Oaxaca-made baskets: a flat double comb for carding wool, a pointed spindle, and various natural coloring agents, along with hanks of wool which demonstrate just a few of the colors used in Oaxacan wool rugs.

Not only are the Mendoza Ruiz sisters extraordinary regional cooks, they and their siblings are also well-known rug weavers. Their parents, Sra. Clara Ruiz and don Emilio Mendoza (QEPD), gave this world a group of supremely gifted artisans, all of whom learned the weavers' traditions at their parents' knees.

Abigail Mendoza started learning kitchen traditions as a five-year-old, as the first daughter of the family, watching her mother grind nixtamal (dried native corn soaked and prepared for masa (dough). In the postcard above, the little girl (who is not Abigail) watches seriously as the woman we imagine to be her mother pats a tortilla into its round shape.

By the time she was six years old, Abigail was in charge of sweeping the kitchen's dirt floor, gathering firewood, and making the kitchen fire. At age seven, she told her mother, "I'm ready to grind corn on the metate," (volcanic rock grinding stone, seen in the center of the photograph above), but she wasn't yet strong enough to use her mother's large stone. She was barely able to lift its metapil (stone rolling pin). She eagerly awaited the purchase of a metate small enough for her use. Doña Clara taught her to grind the home-prepared nixtamal, pat-pat-pat the tortilla dough into perfect thin rounds, and bake them on the comal (wood-fired griddle made of clay).

Abigaíl Mendoza Ruiz, the internationally known and much-traveled Zapoteca cook, best loves preparing meals in her home kitchen and her restaurant kitchen in Teotitlán del Valle, Oaxaca. Here, she's pictured in the beautiful open kitchen of Tlamanalli, the restaurant where she and her sisters Rufina and Marcelina (pictured above) create their culinary alchemy.

Abigail Mendoza is at once filled with light and filled with mystery. Luminous as her joy-filled personality, her smile lights up any room she enters. She is a woman of deep faith, a subscriber to the mysteries of dreams, a believer in spirit worlds both before and after life, a strong believer both in human relationships along life's horizontal and the vertical relationship of God with humanity. Formally educated only through primary school, she holds intense wisdom borne of deep meditation on the nature of life, both spiritual and physical.

In her extraordinary book Dishdaa'w, Abigail reveals her life story, her philosophies, and a good part of her soul. The Zapotec title of her biography (transcribed and organized by Concepción Silvia Núñez Miranda) means "the word woven into the infinite meal". And what does that mean? Food itself has a soul, the soul is transmitted in food's preparation and its ingestion. We are all part of the whole, and the whole is part of each of us.

In her restaurant's large kitchen, Abigail is the sun itself. Hair braided with traditional Zapotec ribbons into a royal crown, she's holding a fistful of freshly picked flor de calabaza (squash flowers).

What did we do, Señorita Abigail and I? We talked, we laughed, we discovered who our many friends in common are, we swapped kitchen lore and recipes, we gossiped (just a little, and in the best possible way), and we each felt like we had met yet another sister, a sister of the kitchen.

And then she asked what we would like to eat. After stumbling around in a maze of I-don't-know-what-to-request, I suggested that she simply bring us her personal choices from the day's menu.

Menu for the day, Restaurante Tlamanalli. The dishes are not inexpensive, but ye gods: save up, if you must, and go. You will never regret it.

First came made-on-the-spot creamy guacamole, in tiny turkey-shaped clay dishes and accompanied by a small bottle of local mezcal amd a wee dish of roasted, seasoned pepitas (squash seeds).

Mole zapoteco con pollo (Zapotec-style mole with chicken). Each of our dishes was accompanied by freshly made tortillas, hot from the comal (griddle).

Pre-hispanic segueza de pollo (breast of chicken in tomato and chile sauce with dried corn and hoja santa). If I should ever be in Oaxaca and in a position to choose one last meal, this would be it.

The herb hoja santa is added to the sauce just before serving and gives a delicate anise flavor to the segueza de pollo.

Oaxaca's heirloom jitomate riñón (kidney-shaped tomatoes) is used for creating the intense and deeply tomato-flavored sauce for the segueza.

When we finished our meal, the Mendoza sisters and doña Clara invited Mexico Cooks! to visit their private kitchen altar, devoted to the Preciosa Sangre de Cristo (Precious Blood of Christ), whose feast day is a major holiday in Teotitlán del Valle and for whom the parish church is named. The home altar has offerings of seasonal fruits as well as perpetually-burning candles.

Mexico Cooks! will go back to Oaxaca, back to Teotitlán del Valle, and back to Restaurante Tlamanalli. After all, I want to visit my new sister–she's a constant inspiration and the best Oaxacan cook I know.

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12 de April de 2014
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 2010.

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).

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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29 de March de 2014
Bazar Sábado, San Ángel, Mexico City

Sun-and-shade dappled Plaza San Jacinto, Colonia San Ángel (in the southern part of Mexico City) hosts the weekly Bazar Sábado (Saturday Bazaar).

Our favorite place for brunch at the Bazar Sábado is directly across the street from the scene in the first photo. This is the Fonda San Ángel, where the every-Saturday brunch will give you the fuel you need for shopping. You will love it! Photo courtesy Fonda San Ángel.

These hand-embroidered table runners are made in the state of Guerrero. We also saw full-size table cloths, napkins, 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 worth it!

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.

Woven straw soft baskets to match your napkin rings. We loved them, although ultimately we decided not to buy them. We have a lot of baskets already.

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.

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's always a joy to spend some time with him.

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1 de March de 2014
El Niño Dios en el Día de la Candelaria: the Christ Child on Candlemas Day

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.

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, my wife and 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 think that date is scandalously late. Other people, particularly our 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 looks on.

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 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 2013, ours was out at the very beginning of December–but the Niño Dios does not make his appearance until the night of December 24, when he is sung to 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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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1 de February de 2014