Category: Food and Drink

Mesamérica 2012: Mexican Gastronomic Summit (Cumbre Gastronómica de México 2012) DAY TWO
Chef Daniel Ovadía and two of his assistants from Restaurante Paxia in Mexico City, on stage at Day Two of Mesamérica. Like many of the new crop of notable chefs, Chef Daniel offered thoughts about using traditional Mexican ingredients in new ways.

Chef Daniel Ovadía described one of his new creations as a "Mexican surf and turf". It consists of Mexican-raised trout cooked in a coating of tortilla ash and plated with radishes shredded in the form of anguillas (eels), fresh setas (mushrooms), crystallized grapefruit peel, and native cilantro. According to a recent article in the Wall Street Journal, 2012 may well be known as "the year of the ash". Other chefs at Mesamérica also featured ash-y dishes.

At the end of his presentation, Chef Daniel prepared this dish while a long poem was read. Titled "Todos Queremos un México Mejor" ('Everyone Wants a Better Mexico'), the work is a compilation of answers received from the Paxia staff when asked, "What do you want for Mexico's future?" Here are just a few lines:
- Quiero un MEXICO libre de pensamiento, libres para decidir y actuar, para decir, sin ofender ni afectar a terceros. (I want a MEXICO with freedom to think, where we are free to decide and act–that is to say, without offending or affecting others.)
- Es un trabajo de todos y no solo de gobierno, desafortunadamente el Mexicano es el que tiene
  que cambiar, el Mexicano es el que tiene que creer, que querer, no basta ni bastará jamás con
  solo pedirlo, soñarlo, imaginarlo o exigirlo a nuestros gobernantes, es una cuestión de credibilidad y lucha de todos, solo cambiando nuestra mentalidad a ser mejores Mexicanos
  y mejores seres humanos lograremos el cambio. (It's everyone's job, not just the government's, unfortunately we Mexicans are the ones who have to change, we Mexicans are the ones who have to believe, to want. It's not enough nor will it ever be enough simply to ask, to dream, to imagine, or to insist on things from our government. It's a question of credibility and it's everyone's battle, by only changing our mentality to be better Mexicans and better human beings will we be able to create the change.)
- Queremos un MÉXICO que tenga gente orgullosa de ser mexicana, no porque deba ser así, sino porque seamos realmente admirables. Que la gente de otros países se alegre porque llegamos
  los mexicanos, a visitar o a trabajar. (We want a MEXICO that has people who are proud of being Mexican–not because they should be, but because we are truly admirable. May people from other countries be overjoyed because we Mexicans are arriving on their shores, either to visit or to work.)
The dish that Chef Daniel prepared is symbolic of Mexico's current troubles (the red spilling down the edge of the plate). Each of the other ingredients is also symbolic of the hopes of those who shared their hopes for Mexico's future. The dish is bathed in the celebratory white mole that is usually served at fiestas.

Wild mushroom expert Connie Green from Napa, California went foraging for Mexican mushroom samples at Mexico City's Mercado San Juan, where seasonal wild mushrooms are always available. Central Mexico is currently in its rainy season; during this time of year, many wild mushrooms are plentiful. Ms. Green was thrilled with what she found here. She pointed out that there are over 3,400 Mexican names for varieties of wild mushrooms, and she was pleased to point out that the chanterelle mushrooms she found here are better than the variety available in Europe.

Among other mushroom varieties at Mercado San Juan, Ms. Green was impressed to find fresh morillas (morelles) from Michoacán. Ms. Green also mentioned that the amanita cesaria, one of the great mushrooms of the world, is common in Mexico but rare in Europe. She also said that the tricholoma matsutake, the second most valuable mushroom in the world, is grown in Oaxaca but exported to Japan, where it is prized for its for its distinct spicy-aromatic odor.

Chef Guillermo González Beristáin (Restaurante Pangea, Monterrey) gave a fascinating explanation of the long-ago origins of some common foods–goat, lamb, and wheat flour tortillas–in his city in far-northern Mexico. Early Jewish settlers brought these foods, common to their native lands, to Mexico with them. It was easy to understand the reason for goat and lamb, but wheat flour tortillas? Chef Guillermo said that this new-world bread was reminiscent of old-world pita. He also mentioned that in households with middle-Eastern origins, three trees are traditionally planted in the family garden: a fig tree (representing the family), a pomegranate tree (representing wisdom), and a lemon tree (representing resignation). He was obviously moved as he told the audience that he now has one of each tree in his own Monterrey garden.

Chef Guillermo also showed a video of himself and several companions truffle-hunting just outside Monterrey. Because the climate is similar to that of the south of France, five varieties of truffles grow there, in symbiosis with local oak trees. Only one variety is edible. He mentioned that the gentleman who told him about local Monterrey truffles had never seen or tasted a European truffle until Chef Guillermo brought him one from France.

Diana Kennedy greets Mark Miller shortly before her Mesamérica talk. Mrs. Kennedy, British author of nine important books recounting the history and preparation of traditional Mexican dishes, is one of the most knowledgeable food historians in Mexico.

Mrs. Kennedy, a well-recognized and important pillar in the world of Mexican food, spoke as she often does: frankly and directly to the point. Her point at Mesamérica was, as she said, to speak the uncomfortable truth. She said, "Mexican cuisine worries me, above all the ingredients that are being used. It's a great scandal that so-called Mexican products are being imported from other countries." She specifically mentioned chile guajillo and chile de árbol, both of which are being imported to Mexico from China, and flor de jamaica (hibiscus flowers, commonly used for agua fresca and other applications), which are being imported from the Sudan. Mrs. Kennedy is outraged that buying foreign products undercuts the livelihood of Mexican producers and particularly the campesinos (field workers). She ardently urged that foreign chiles and jamaica be boycotted in favor of their Mexican-grown counterparts. Although she smiled as she shook her fist, it is obvious that Mrs. Kennedy is both passionate and angry–and rightly so–about any foreign takeovers of Mexico's ingredients.

Mark Miller, Diana Kennedy, Steve Sando, and Mexico Cooks! at Mesamérica. Photo courtesy John Sconzo, LLC.

Next week: Day Three of Mesamérica. Be there or be square–all your favorite chefs give it their all.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.
11 de August de 2012
Mesamérica 2012: Mexican Gastronomic Summit (Cumbre Gastronómica de México 2012) DAY ONE

Chef Enrique Olvera of highly acclaimed Restaurante Pujol in Mexico City is the founder and guiding light of Mesamérica. Photo courtesy Adam Goldberg.

Mesamérica, highly touted as the Mexican culinary event of the year, opened on July 24 with a gala inaugural dinner at Mexico City's St. Regis Hotel. Forty or so rock-star chefs and other luminaries of the international gastronomic world converged on the city for five days of teaching conferences,food, drink, celebration, and general merry-making.

Chef Ricardo Muñoz Zurita of restaurants Azul/Condesa and Azul/Histórico gave a few opening remarks on July 25.

Chef Alicia Gironella d'Angeli, who together with her husband Giorgio d'Angeli founded Restaurante El Tajín in Mexico City as well as the Slow Food movement in Mexico, spoke from her long perspective as grande dame of Mexico's culinary world during Mesamérica's inauguration. In her talk, she quipped that she was speaking from her juventud acumulada–her accumulated youth.

The Mesamérica 2012 program included chefs from countries as diverse as England, Denmark, Chile, Mexico, and the United States. Names as well-known in Mexico as Diana Kennedy, Javier Plascencia, Mikel Alonso, and Mónica Patiño were among those who gave talks to the huge crowds–as many as 2,000 in attendance for each of two daily sessions. The names of James Casey (editor of SWALLOW magazine), Lars Williams (Nordic Food Labs, Copenhagen), and The Young Turks (Great Britain), which would previously have elicited a "Who?" from me and most of the attending throngs were common currency by the end of the conference.

Chef Javier Plascencia of Restaurante Misión 19, Baja California, along with (below)

Chef Jair Téllez from Restaurante Laja of Baja California and Restaurante MeroToro of Mexico City shared the podium on opening day and together spoke eloquently about the need to invent tradition in Baja California. Chef Javier said, "I am very much inspired by street food, and Tijuana has become a culinary destination. We are living our dream."

ProEpta Mexican baking and tableware shared commercial space with several other culinary arts businesses.

Lars Williams, of Copenhagen's Nordic Food Lab, asked conference assistants to pass around pinches and liquid samples of flavors concocted of insect parts and essences. During his talk, he said that the basic tenet of the Food Lab is–and I quote–"Trying to get gringos to eat bugs". The tiny vial in the photo contains a liquid made from fermented grasshoppers. It smelled and tasted like soy sauce.

Next week, Mexico Cooks! will highlight chefs and other culinary professionals from Mesamérica Day Two. Stay tuned!

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

4 de August de 2012
Delicias de Noche en Pátzcuaro: Enchiladas Placeras (Night Pleasures in Pátzcuaro: Plaza-Style Enchiladas)
Over the course of nearly 30 years, Mexico Cooks! has visited Pátzcuaro, Michoacán, one of the most beautiful small colonial cities of Mexico, more times than we can count. Every visit is memorable for 16th and 17th Century architecture, fantastic decorative arts, and food. Food! The regional Michoacán kitchen is incomparably rich and delicious.

Super Pollo Emilio has been famous for 36 years for enchiladas placeras: plaza-style enchiladas, the only item on the menu. The cooks prepare approximately 400 orders of enchiladas every night.

Great quantities of enormous pechugas (chicken breast halves, each large enough to satisfy two people) and piernas (leg/thigh quarters) are simmered early in the day until they're just done. A bit later, preparation continues with vats of tender potatoes and fresh carrots.

The cook fans four tortillas at a time between his fingers and dips them into this enormous pot of house- made salsa para enchiladas (enchilada sauce). The recipe? Mexico Cooks! has wheedled and whined, but Super Pollo Emilio won't give it up.

The cook spreads the salsa-doused tortillas evenly into the sizzling grease in the industrial-strength comal (griddle), flipping them rapidly from one side to the other. The tortillas need to be cooked till they are hot and soft, but not crisp.

He gives each tortilla a dollop of freshly mashed potato. The tortillas are then folded in half: voilá, enchiladas ready for your platter. Each order contains eight enchiladas as well as–well, we'll see in a minute.

While we waited for our supper, we were treated to a serenata (serenade) sung by strolling local musicians. We were quite taken with the multi-colored strings of this big bass fiddle.

Our order. The platter, which looks fairly small in the photo, measures approximately 16 inches from side to side. The two forks are ordinary-size table forks. Each platter contains:
- eight potato-filled enchiladas
- freshly sautéed potatoes and carrots, enough for two or more people
- the amount and kind of chicken you prefer–we normally order a breast portion, which was more than enough for the two of us
- a sprinkle of thinly sliced onion
- large shreds of queso Oaxaca (Oaxaca cheese)
- shredded fresh cabbage
- crumbled queso fresco (fresh farmer-style cheese)
- fresh salsa roja (red sauce, different from the enchilada sauce)
- a base of fresh romaine lettuce
- chile perón en escabeche (locally grown and pickled yellow chile: HOT), as much as you want
Mexico Cooks! has never seen one person finish an entire platter of enchiladas placeras as prepared by Super Pollo Emilio. We were hard pressed, but in the interest of pure research we managed to eat most of this order. We accompanied the order with a glass of agua fresca de jamaica and a bottle of LIFT, an apple soda. Our total bill was 110 pesos.

Super Pollo Emilio sets up every evening except Tuesdays, just around dusk on Pátzcuaro's Plaza Gertrudis Bocanegra (the plaza chica). It's the booth closest to the portal (covered walkway) on the market side of the square. The booth is open till the food runs out.

If you're still hungry after your platter of enchiladas is gone, there are buñuelos for dessert. You can order a buñuelo broken and softened in a bowl of syrup or still-crispy and dusted with sugar.

Our waiter Jesús and his sweet daughter Paola, who was helping take soft drink orders. Jesús has been a fixture at Super Pollo Emilio since long before his daughter was born.

When you're visiting Pátzcuaro, don't miss the enchiladas placeras at Super Pollo Emilio. If nothing else about this marvelous city brings you back again and again, you'll be pulled in by these addictive enchiladas, eaten on a chilly night under the stars, just by the market-side portales.

Looking for a tailored-to-your-interests specialized tour in Mexico? Click here: Tours.
28 de July de 2012
Pulque: Pre-Hispanic Drink, Gift of the Gods from the Maguey Cactus

The agave atrovirens cactus. This enormous blue-gray plant, native to the ancient land which became Mexico, continues to provide us with pulque (POOL-keh), a naturally fermented alcoholic beverage. The maguey, with pencas (thick, succulent leaves) which can grow to a height of seven to eight feet, matures in ten to twelve years. At maturity, the plant can begin to produce liquor.

Pulque, native to Mexico, is suddenly all the rage in countries far from its origin. Folks who have never seen a maguey cactus 'on the hoof' argue the relative merits of natural versus flavored pulques, canned versus straight from the barrel, and so forth. Mayahuel, the goddess of the maguey, is laughing up her sleeve at this current rash of pulque aficionados: pulque has been well-loved in what is now Mexico for longer than humankind can remember.

Legend has it that a thousand years ago and more, Sr. Tlacuache (Mr. Opossum) scraped his sharp claws through the heart of the maguey and slurped down the world's first taste of pulque–and then another, and another, until he had a snoot full. His meandering drunken ramble allegedly traced the path of Mexico's rivers.

A drawing from the Codice Borbónico (1530s Spanish calendar and outline of life in the New World) shows Mayahuel, goddess of the maguey, with a mature cactus and a pot of fermented pulque. The first liquid that pours into the heart of the maguey is called aguamiel (literally, honey water); legend says that aguamiel is Mayahuel's blood.

Aguamiel actually comes from the pencas (leaves) of the cactus. In order to start the flow of liquid into the heart of the plant, the yema (yolk) of the plant is removed from the heart and the heart's walls, connected to the leaves, are scraped until only a cavity remains. Within a few days, the aguamiel begins to flow into the cavity in the heart of the plant. The flow of aguamiel can last anywhere from three to six months. Today, the men who work the maguey to produce pulque are still called tlaquicheros. The word is derived from the same Nahuatl origin as the name for the original tlaquichero: Sr. Tlacuache, Mr. Opossum.

An early tlaquichero removes aguamiel from the heart of the maguey by sucking it out with a long gourd. Today, workers use a steel scoop to remove up to six liters of aguamiel per day from a single plant. Aguamiel is not an alcoholic beverage. Rather, it is a soft drink, sweet, transparent, and refreshing. Once it ferments, however, it becomes the alcoholic drink pulque, also known as octli.

The fermentation of pulque can start in the plant itself. Aguamiel, left in the plant's heart to 'ripen' for a few days, begins to ferment. For the commercial production which began in the 19th century, tlaquicheros remove aguamiel from the maguey and transfer it to huge steel tanks, where it ferments.

The heart of the maguey, full of aguamiel. The tool balanced in the liquid is the same type gourd that is pictured in the early drawing seen above. Between extractions of aguamiel, the leaves of the maguey are folded over the cavity where the liquid collects to prevent insects and plant debris from falling into the heart.

Mexican photographic postcard dating to the 1940s or 1950s. The women and children pose in front of huge maguey plants.

By the end of the 19th century, pulque was enormously popular among Mexico's very rich and very poor. Weary travelers in the early 20th century could find stands selling pulque–just for a pickmeup–alongside rural byways. Travelers riding Mexico's railroads bought pulque at booths along the tracks. Pulquerías (bars specializing in pulque) were in every town, however small or large. In Puebla and Mexico City, legendary pulquerías abounded.

Italian expatriate Tina Modotti, a member of the Diego Rivera/Frida Kahlo artists' circle, photographed Mexico City's pulquería La Palanca in 1926.

This common image hung in pulquerías all over Mexico. Clients could order the amount of pulque they wanted according to the drawings–and be reminded of what they had ordered when the pulque had laid them low. Image courtesy of La Voz de Michoacán.

In the foreground are the actual pitchers and glasses used in Mexico's pulquerías. Compare them with the vessels in the drawing. Image courtesy of Museo del Arte Popular (DF).

Pulque lovers spent long evenings in their favorite pulquerías in an alcoholic haze of music, dancing, laughter and delight. Far less expensive than other hard liquors, pulque carries with it the romance of ancient legend, the tradition of a nation, and the approbation of the gods.

Edward Weston, American photographer, immortalized Mexico City's pulquería El Charrito, also in 1926.

Natural pulque is a pale white, semi-viscous, liquid with a slick, thick feel in the mouth; many people are put off by that feel, as well as by its slightly sour taste. Even for those who dislike natural pulque, another kind of pulque–called curado (in this instance, flavored)–is delicious. Natural pulque, combined with blended fresh fruit, vegetables, or ground nuts, becomes a completely different drink. Bananas, guavas, strawberries, and the tuna (fruit of the nopal cactus) are particular favorites.

Feria de Pulque (Pulque Fair) in the State of Mexico. Each of the jars holds pulque curado, each flavored with a different fresh fruit, vegetable, or type of nut.

Mexico Cooks! first tasted pulque about 30 years ago, in Huixquilucan, in the State of Mexico. Huixquilucan, known to its inhabitants as Huixqui (pronounced whiskey), used to be a small town, and Mexican friends took me to its small-town fair where home-made pulque was for sale in what seemed like every booth offering food and drink. "Try it, you'll like it a lot!" my friends giggled. "Just a little taste! C'mon!" I was nervous: I'd heard about pulque and its slippery slimy-ness and its inebriating qualities. Finally we stood in front of a booth offering pulque curado con fresas: pulque flavored with fresh strawberries. "Okay, okay, I can try this." And I liked it! The first small cupful was a delicious, refreshing, slightly bubbly surprise. The second small cupful went down even more easily than the first. And then–well, let it be said that I had to sit down on the sidewalk for a bit. I truly understood about pulque.

Try it, you'll like it a lot…c'mon, just a little taste!

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

14 de July de 2012
Crafts, Food, and Mayan Culture in Zinacantán, Chiapas: Part Three

If you have not yet read Parts One and Two of Mexico Cooks! visit to San Lorenzo Zinacantán, Chiapas, please see the articles dated June 23 and June 30, 2012.

Restaurant J'Totik Lol, San Lorenzo Zinacantán, Chiapas

As we walked through the Templo San Lorenzo atrium to the main streets of Zinacantán, our stomachs grumbling for food, we noticed that the first three cocinas económicas (cheap-eats restaurants) were closed. At three o'clock in the afternoon–time for the main meal of the day–we couldn't understand what was (or better said, what wasn't) cooking. Then light dawned: it was a Lenten Friday. In Mexico, many restaurants serving primarily meat or chicken close on Fridays in Lent. It appeared that none of the restaurants around the plaza chose to offer a menú cuaresmeño (Lenten menu). Even though we were considerably past ready for lunch, we weren't ready to leave Zinacantán and head back to San Cristóbal de las Casas to find food. What to do!

"Look!" My partner pointed to a sign: Centro de Artesanía y Restaurantes. An arrow directed us to a short flight of steps carved into the hillside. We crossed our fingers and started up. At the top of the steps was Restaurant J'Totik Lol, jam-packed with San Cristóbal secundaria (middle school) kids on a field trip. We felt sure that unless the ravening teenage hordes had eaten all that there was to be had, we would soon have lunch.

The school group filled every table inside the restaurant and overflowed into the yard. We settled ourselves outside at the single remaining table and gratefully received menus from the wait staff. Would it be the menú del día or something a la carta? Our choice is usually the menú, and today was no exception. The menú at a home-style restaurant in Mexico is nearly always a treat. It normally includes a choice of two or three sopas aguadas (soups), choice of sopa seca (rice or pasta), choice of several guisados (main dishes), frijoles, tortillas, and dessert. Judy picked asado de puerco estilo chiapaneco as her main course and, at the waitress's recommendation, I asked for the menú con carne asada.

Restaurant J'Totik Lol interior with clay and brick oven.

The asado de puerco estilo chiapaneco was definitely the pick of the day. Fork-tender chunks of pork covered with a deep-brown sauce redolent of chiles filled Judy's plate, the thick sauce running gently into her rice. She tasted it and I knew from the ecstatic look on her face that I wasn't going to finagle more than a nibble. Yes, my carne asada was delicious. But after I snagged a shred of her pork and a bit of sauce, it was obvious that she had bet on the winner.

Both of us ate fresh tortilla after fresh tortilla as we enjoyed our meal. We were joined at table by a middle-size dog which had apparently recently delivered a litter of pups. Her beguilingly silent pleas for a snack resulted in a bone or two from Judy's asado and the crusty ends of my carne asada.

We all ate well. You will, too.

Asado de Puerco Estilo Chiapaneco

Ingredients
1/2 kilo (1 pound) fresh pork                   1 onion, quartered
1 kilo (2.2 pounds) small pork ribs          1 corn tortilla
2 cloves garlic                                        Thyme to taste
2 chiles cascabel                                     Oregano to taste
2 chiles pasilla                                        Salt and pepper to taste
1 large or two small tomatillos                Oil

Procedure
Cut the meat into 2" cubes. Cut the ribs into 2" sections. Salt and pepper well. Using a frying pan, sauté in hot oil until well-browned, adding the quartered onion to the meat. Reserve the meat and onion in the frying pan.

In another pan, carefully toast the garlic, the chiles cascabel and pasilla. Don't let them become too dark or they will be bitter. Reserve the mix in a separate bowl. In the same frying pan, sauté the corn tortilla. When all the ingredients are well-toasted, put them in the blender along with the raw tomatillos, add a bit of water, and blend until the ingredients are well blended. Add the blended mixture to the meat in its frying pan. Add the thyme and oregano to taste.

Allow to cook over a very low flame for about an hour, adding water little by little as needed so that the meat and sauce do not dry out.

Serves 4-6, accompanied by arroz a la mexicana (Mexican-style rice), frijolitos negros (black beans), and plenty of freshly made hot tortillas.

Provecho!

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

Mexico Cooks! is traveling. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming in mid-July.

7 de July de 2012
Crafts, Food and Mayan Culture in Zinacantán, Chiapas: Part Two

If you have not yet read Part One of Mexico Cooks! visit to San Lorenzo Zinacantán, Chiapas, please see the article dated June 23, 2012. This three-part series was originally published during March 2008.

One of several Centros de Artesanía (craft stores) in the town of San Lorenzo Zinacantán, Chiapas.

As we drove into Zinacantán, we noticed many large invernaderos (greenhouses) here and there on the mountain slopes. In addition to the work of artesanía (arts and crafts), there is a large flower-growing industry in the town. Roses, daisies, chrysanthemums and other flowers grow profusely in the greenhouses that dot the hillsides around this tiny town in a valley. The flowers are produced for use in the town as well as for export.

When Mexico Cooks! arrived in the town center, the parish church bells were ringing over and over again–Clang! Ca-CLANG! Clang! Clang! Ca-clang!–in a pattern that was neither the usual call to Mass nor the clamor (the mournful ring that indicates a parishioner has died). Although the Centros de Artesanía (crafts centers) beckoned and we had really come to shop, we decided to answer the call of the bells and visit the church first. Many villagers crowded the entryway, watching one of the most beautiful processions I've seen in Mexico. No photographs are permitted in either the church atrium or the church itself, and I wished so deeply that I had the talent to draw what we were watching.

Young men wearing white cotton shorts embroidered along the hems, thickly furry woven wool cotones, beribboned pañuelos and straw hats processed from a shadowy side chapel carrying huge wicker baskets filled to overflowing with every color rose petal. The procession came slowly, these young zinacantecos scattering thousands and thousands of petals throughout the candlelit main part of the church. The wooden floor disappeared under a pink, yellow, red, and white carpet. Other men wearing ritual black or white woolen cotones followed, stepping reverently on the rose petals, releasing their scent into the air along with the scent of copal burning in the clay incensarios (incense burners) they waved high above their heads.

Then followed twelve highly honored town elders dressed in even more elaborate ritual clothing bearing three life-size statues on their shoulders. The statues, each dressed in the finest ropa típica zinacanteca, represented the Virgin Mary, Jesus, and San Lorenzo, the patron of Zinacantán. The tremendous statues processed, crowned with gold and surrounded by candles and artfully arranged flowers of every description. The three saints gently tipped this way and that on the shoulders of their bearers as they moved through the nave of the church.

The first young men of the procession rained thousands more rose petals on the statues as they wended their way slowly through the small church and back into the half-light of the side chapel, where the saints were situated in places of honor in front of the communion rail and altar.

This image, taken inside Templo Santo Domingo in San Cristóbal de las Casas, Chiapas, shows candles similar to those lit before the saints in Templo San Lorenzo, Zinacantán.

Beneath swooping banners, strings of brightly colored metal ornaments, and tired-out balloons from prior fiestas, church elders lit hundreds of candles to honor the three saints. Men clad in garments resembling ribbon-festooned woolly black or white sheep hurried back and forth placing candles in large stands, stopping to kneel and pray aloud in Tzotzil. Meantime, women elders clad in brilliant blue and teal embroidered chales (shawls) crouched on the church floor. Ritual white cotton rebozos covered their heads and faces, leaving only their black eyes visible, watching the men. The men lit candles and more candles. Young boys left greenery around the statues. In the dimness, a solemn father pinched his laughing son's ear to remind him to respect the ceremony and the saints.

When we could tell that the ceremony was drawing to a close, I asked one of the elders to tell me its significance. "This is the first Friday of Lent," he replied. "We'll have this procession the first Friday of every month from now until All Saints Day in November." He smiled, bowed briefly, and moved away from me. My partner and I walked slowly out of the church and back into the brilliant Zinacantán afternoon light. We felt that we had been centuries and huge distances away from this millennium. And of course, after that much mystical time and space travel, we were starving. Lunch! Where would we have lunch?

View of Zinacantán from the floor of the valley, 8500 feet above sea level.

Next week, read Part Three as Mexico Cooks! continues its visit to San Lorenzo Zinacantán, Chiapas.

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

Mexico Cooks! is traveling. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming in mid-July.

30 de June de 2012
Crafts, Food and Mayan Culture in Zinacantán, Chiapas: Part One

Part One of a three-part series of articles about Mexico Cooks!' explorations in the indigenous village of Zinacantán, Chiapas. All three articles were originally published in March, 2008. Enjoy!

The highlands of Chiapas, the southernmost state in Mexico, are unlike any region of the 27 other Mexican states I know. The indigenous culture of the highlands is still fiercely Mayan, albeit with a veneer of Catholicism. The Chiapanecan Maya are for the most part unwelcoming to outsiders, holding their customs and celebrations close to their chests as jealously guarded secrets. Some regions forbid entry to both mestizos and foreigners, some forbid the taking of photographs, and some have essentially seceded from Mexico, allowing no access to services commonly accepted as essential everywhere else in the country.

There are a few small indigenous towns where outside visitors are at least superficially welcome, including the pueblo called San Lorenzo Zinacantán, located in a valley at 8500 feet above sea level, just six miles from the small but cosmopolitan city of San Cristóbal de las Casas. In Zinacantán, where the women dress like flocks of exotically beautiful bluebirds, a prominent sign on the church door reads, "Se prohibe matar pollos durante sus rezos," ('Killing chickens during your prayers is forbidden'), and the vernacular is Tzotzil, derived from Mayan. The name Zinacantán means "place of the bats". Mexico Cooks! missed seeing bats, but we lucked upon certain mystically Mayan Zinacantán ceremonies that left us wide-eyed and pensive.

Zinacantecas Juana Hernández de la Cruz, Josefa Victoria González, Juana Adriana Hernández Hernández, and Yolanda Julieta González Hernández laughed with delight when they saw their photographs.

Village residents wear ropa típica (native dress) made by their own hands. Women use hand-woven long black wool skirts, hand-embroidered red or blue blouses embroidered in teal blue, deeper blue, and green thread, and stunning tassel-embellished shawls. It's possible to identify the families that men, boys, and young girls are from based on the style of weaving and embroidery in the garments their wives, mothers and aunts make for them.

For their weddings, Zinacantán women wear the k'uk'umal chilil, an elaborately woven huipil (long blouse). White feathers are woven among the colored borders of these wedding dresses, which are nearly long enough to reach the ground. Under the huipil, the bride wears a finely hand woven and embroidered navy blue woolen skirt. The bride's white dress takes approximately five months to weave on a back strap loom. The people of Zinacantán say that the hen is a domestic animal that has feathers but cannot fly, walks on two legs just like people, is dependent on them for its nourishment, and is always near the house even when it runs loose. So the feathers that women weave into the bridal garment represent the attitude of the hen, which the bride is expected to adopt: she will not leave the household, even though she is capable of doing so, and she will shape a relationship of interdependence with her husband. Hence the feathers are a symbol of good marriage, as are the three borders of multicolored embroidery. In addition to the long blouse and the navy blue skirt, the bride wears a long white embroidered shawl which covers most of her head and face during the marriage ceremony.

Zinacantán men wear short pants and a knee-length cotón (a sleeveless garment made of one piece of hand-woven fabric sewn up the sides to the armpits, with a cut-out for inserting the head). The cotón is fastened with a wide red cotton belt wrapped several times around the waist and knotted. Over that, a man wears a hand-woven and embroidered pink fabric vest with long, elaborate tassels. A large scarf wraps around the man's head, either with or without multi-colored ribbons trailing down his back, and over the scarf the men wear a handmade hat woven of palm fronds, long colorful ribbons cascading from the peak of the sombrero.

Because many people in Zinacantán are reluctant to have their pictures taken, I took the photo of traditional wedding clothing in a women's cooperative crafts store with the permission of the women in the second photograph, who staffed the store the day Mexico Cooks! visited.

Sra. Pascuala Pérez Pérez weaves using a back strap loom.

The loom with a portion of Doña Pascuala's weaving lies neatly where she left it momentarily to tend the cooperative store.

Crafts work such as weaving traditional brides' huipiles, rugs, tablecloths, blouses, shawls, and straw hats has become the major source of income for many zinacantecos (residents of Zinacantán). Doña Pascuala told me, "We start as children, learning to separate the colored threads and put the same colors together. Many learn how to embroider, but the bad thing is that no one helps us export our crafts to anywhere outside the area."

Next week, read Part Two as Mexico Cooks! continues its visit to San Lorenzo Zinacantán, Chiapas.

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

Mexico Cooks! is traveling. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled programming in mid-July.

23 de June de 2012
Traditional Baking at Lake Chapala

Two days a week, José Manuel Mora Velásquez continues a tradition that has been part of his family for more than 80 years. Long before dawn, he begins preparations for baking pan de tachigual, a type of bread so distinctly regional that Sr. Mora says that it has only been made in San Juan Cosalá and in Ajijic, (in the state of Jalisco, Mexico), although it's sold in other towns along the north shore of Lake Chapala.

In years gone by, natives of those two towns did not allow a wedding, baptism, First Communion or confirmation to pass without tachigual as part of the festivity rituals. Although times are changing, even today the most traditional celebrations of these life passages include the humble local loaves.

Sr. Mora showed me around the tiny bakery at his home in Ajijic. The ceiling is low and the only light comes from windows without glass. Loaves of freshly baked tachigual are piled high on a wooden shelf while dough rises in a warm corner, out of the way of any passing breeze.

Tachigual loaves stuffed with nuts and raisins rise on the bakery shelves.

"The oven is heated only by wood. It's not easy to keep a good supply of wood, but we collect it from all over the area. People usually tell me where a dry tree has fallen, or where someone has cut down a tree that will burn well when the wood is dry."

"Which days of the week do you bake?" I asked.

"Wednesdays, like today, and Saturdays. It's very time-consuming work and you have to pay very close attention to the masa (dough) or it won't turn out right." Sr. Mora turned to peer into the oven as he spoke to me.

"A full twenty-four hours before I bake, I have to prepare the harina fermentada (starter). It's a mixture of flour and water. I mix that, and then it sits in the warm bakery for a full day before I can use it for the bread.

"Early in the morning of the days I bake, I mix the dough. It's made with the starter dough I made the day before, plus additional flour, eggs, sugar, and lard. Some of the dough is made with whole wheat flour and some with white flour. The white flour dough has white sugar, raisins and toasted nuts blended into it. The whole wheat loaves are sweetened with piloncillo (cones of brown sugar)."

Sr. Mora showed me how he weighs each of the ingredients to make the bread. "I don't measure. The bread is better if each component is weighed. How many kilos of flour I use depends on how many loaves I need to bake on any given day. Usually I make enough dough to produce 400 loaves a day.

"Baking this traditional way is different from baking in a modern oven. The first difference, of course, is that the oven is made of bricks and clay. It's shaped like a beehive. And as I said before, I use wood fire for the heat. Temperature control is more difficult. I have to start the fire about three hours before the dough starts to bake. That's so the oven will reach the right temperature. It takes two hours for the coals to be at the right stage, then another hour for the temperature to go down enough so the bread will bake in the right amount of time."

Tachigual bakes right on the floor of the brick beehive oven.

I looked into the oven, which has no door, and saw that the baking bread was beginning to turn golden brown. "I don't see a thermometer, Sr. Mora. How do you know when the oven has reached the right temperature to begin baking?"

Sr. Mora checks the oven to make sure the temperature is right.

He laughed. "I put one loaf in to bake. It should be ready in about 30 to 40 minutes. If it takes longer than that, I put more wood on the fire. If it bakes too quickly, I wait a bit for the temperature to go down. Then I try again. Of course I've been doing this for so long that I can almost always tell when the temperature is right, but I still bake a trial loaf to be sure."

I asked Sr. Mora if there were other tachigual bakers in Ajijic. "Yes, my cousin still makes this bread the old way. She lives on Calle Constitución and bakes on Tuesday and Thursday. I think we're the only two left in Ajijic who bake this bread. There is a family in San Juan Cosalá that still has a bakery, but I don't know them personally."

Ojitos (little eyes) rise near the warmth of the oven.

An article about the San Juan Cosalá bakers appeared several years ago in the Lake Chapala Spanish-language weekly newspaper, El Charal. At that time, Sra. Margarita Villalobos and one of her daughters were baking pan de tachigual for distribution and sale in San Juan, in Nestipac, and in Jocotepec. Sra. Villalobos told El Charal that as a young girl, she had learned to make tachigual from her mother. Her methods hadn't changed over the years, she said, because making the bread in the traditional way gives it the delicious flavor that people want. Sra. Villalobos said that someone had offered her an electric mixer to help beat the dough, but she was not interested in changing her style of preparation. "Other bakers make it using the same recipe I do, but they don't mix it by hand. Their results aren't the same," she reported.

Sr. Mora's baking sheet is made of a flattened 5-gallon square tin can.

Sr. Mora tells a similar story. "A woman named Teresa taught my aunt how to make tachigual, and my aunt taught me," he reminisced. "And now there's no one left to teach. My children don't want to be bakers. It's sad to think that I might be the last in the family to keep this tradition alive."

Although Sr. Mora graciously told me about his work and the traditions of the bread he makes, there was never a time when he was not also paying strict attention to the rising loaves, the bread baking in the oven, and the bread that was cooling on primitive wooden shelves along three walls of the bakery. I watched quietly for a while as Sr. Mora worked.

With one eye on the oven, he picked up an escobilla (double-ended straw brush) and started rhythmically sweeping the wood ash from each cool loaf of tachigual. As he cleaned each loaf, he placed it in a pile.

When he noticed that the bread inside the oven had turned a deep golden brown, he set aside the escobilla and picked up a pala (literally a shovel, but in this case it resembled a long-handled wooden pizza peel). He used the pala to remove a metal tray holding the ojitos from the oven and placed it on a table near where I was standing. In one experienced and skillful motion, he scooped up as many small panes de tachigual as the pala would hold and transferred them from the oven to a shelf for cooling. With a similar movement, he loaded the pala with unbaked loaves of tachigual. Gently shoving the pala as far into the oven as he knew it needed to go so that the bread would bake evenly, he snapped his elbow back and the raw loaves landed evenly spaced on the oven floor. In just a few minutes he demonstrated skills he had acquired over his 22 years as a baker.

The sweet smell of baking tachigual was making me very hungry. "Sr. Mora, do you take all of the bread to be sold at stores here in town?" I was hoping he'd say no, and I was not disappointed.

"A lot of people come here to the bakery to buy bread. And the boys take some to be sold out on the streets in that washtub…" he gestured to a galvanized metal tub in the corner by the oven. "And of course some does go to stores around town."

"What does the tachigual cost?" I was fingering some coins in my pocket.

"The small loaves are four pesos, the big ones are ten pesos. And those mini-loaves are two pesos apiece. I sell the miniatures to mothers for little kids."

I bought four loaves, one large and three small. The large one came home with me and I took the three small ones to share with my neighbors. My car held the tantalizing scent of the fresh-baked bread for two days.

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2 de June de 2012
Wheat, Flour, and Yeast: Basque Spanish Immigrants’ Bakeries in Mexico City

Pan Segura, Legítimo Estilo Jalisco (Bread Segura, Real Jalisco Style) is almost literally a hole in the wall on Calle 16 de septiembre in Mexico City's Centro Histórico. There's just enough open space for a person to squeeze single file and sideways past a bread case and into the slightly wider part of the bakery to pick up a tray and tongs. Buy bread here often enough and you probably won't fit through the door!

A few weeks ago, Mexico Cooks! received an email from a total stranger: Jane Mason, the owner of Virtuous Bread, asked me where to buy certain kinds of specialty flours in Mexico City or anywhere in the rest of the República. Originally based in England, Jane Mason has recently been working on a bread-baking project in the Distrito Federal. After exchanging several notes with me, she mentioned that she and her partner were taking a Centro Histórico tour of traditional bakeries that weekend. Would I like to join them? Did I leap at the chance? You bet!

Racks of Jalisco-style pan dulce (Mexican sweet breads) at Pan Segura. Their most famous sweet bread is the unique cuadros de queso (cheese squares). Large, densely textured, and completely delicious, the bread balances between sweet and salty. With a freshly squeezed glass of juice, it's big enough to be breakfast. It's also addictive. Trust me, eating one cuadro de queso today leaves you wanting another tomorrow.

Universidad Iberoamericana, in the person of Maestra Sandra Llamas, planned the bakery tour to explore the 19th century presence in Mexico of Basque immigrants from the province of Navarre, Spain. Those immigrants came from the Spanish Valley of Baztán to live in Mexico City at the end of the 19th and beginning of the 20th centuries. Ultimately, they became the most important European influence on Mexico's commercial bakeries, flour sellers, and yeast purveyors.

Maestra Sandra Llamas begins the tour of traditional bakeries by offering an overview of prominent Basque bakers in 19th century Mexico City. Approximately 25 people of every young-adult and adult age participated in our three-bakery walking tour.

During Porfirio Díaz's long presidency/dictatorship (1876-1910), all things European were very much the rage in Mexico. Spanish and French goods were much more highly valued than goods made in Mexico. During the Porfiriato (the name used to describe those nearly 35 years), many Basque families were accustomed to sending their adolescent first-born sons to the New World. These young men arrived all but penniless in Mexico, and their families in Spain expected that they would make successes of themselves in their new homes.

In 1877, there were 68 bakeries in Mexico City. By 1898, the bakery count was up to 200. Most of the bakery owners were Basques from Navarre. They did not bring baking to Mexico, but they did bring a particular way of doing business. They bought wheat fields, built urban rather than rural flour mills, bought bakeries, and soon dominated the market that catered to one of humankind's basic needs: hunger.

Don Braulio Iriarte Goyeneche was born in Navarra, Spain, in 1860 and arrived in Mexico City in 1877.

Arguably the most successful of these young Basques was the teenager who, as an adult in Mexico City, would be known as don Braulio Iriarte Goyeneche. In 1877, his family forced him to leave Navarra and make a life for himself in this unknown world across the sea. Industrious, hard-working, and creative, the young Iriarte began his career as an employee at one of Mexico's first commercial bakeries. By the end of the 1800s, he was Mexico's king of flour, yeast, and bread. The two keys to his success were his business acumen and the trustworthy cleanliness of his bakeries.

Jalisco-style bread from Pan Segura. This tiny bakery has been in operation for 85 years.

During the fourth quarter of the 19th century, common practice meant that campesinos (country boys) worked barefoot in bakeries. In an attempt to keep their feet clean, they were not allowed to go outside the bakery during the day–locked in with the ovens, barefoot boys and young men clad in the white pants and shirts of the campesino, danced 17 hours a day in the heat of a wood-fired bakery to knead the fresh-made dough . It's no wonder that some customers complained occasionally that their bread was too salty: blame the extra salt on the campesinos' sweat blended into the flour mixture. Don Braulio's bakeries were considered to be extremely sanitary because, unlike in other Mexico City bakeries, machinery did all the kneading. No one's feet touched the dough.

Conchas (shells, a kind of sweet bread) from Panadería El Molino. These conchas are quiet large, and you can see that the price per piece is five pesos (at today's exchange rate, approximately 36 US cents).

At the end of the 19th century in Mexico, the salary for a Mexico City panadero (baker) was two pesos per month. Yes, two. In 1903, Mexico City's bakers began what is known as la huelga de los bolillos (the bread strike). Their demand? A raise in salary to 2.5 pesos per month. The bakers gave or threw away thousands of the individual loaves of white bread known as bolillos to protest the bakery owners' reluctance to pay them a half peso more per month. The bakery owners' main fear was that their young men would drink substantially more due to the salary increase.

Sr. Iriarte rapidly rose to the highest level of prominence in Mexico's world of wheat, flour, and yeast. Within 30 years of his arrival in Mexico City, he and a business partner owned numerous bakeries, had opened a flour mill in Toluca (near the urban center of Mexico City), and founded Mexico's first commercial yeast factory. By the end of the 1920s, he was grinding nearly all of Mexico's wheat.

In early 1922, Sr. Iriarte added another business to his stable: the Corona brewery, which has grown to become one of the largest and most important breweries in the world. Its flagship beer, Corona, is the largest-selling Mexican beer in the world. What's the connection between beer and bread? Yeast.

At El Molino, a bakery worker paints apricot syrup onto fresh-from-the-oven trenzas (braids) made of puff paste. She will then sprinkle the braids with sesame seeds.

You don't use your fingers to pick up bread in Mexico's bakeries. Near the entrance to any bakery, you'll find trays and tongs for choosing what you want to buy. The check-out clerk will use your tongs to put your bread in its bag or box, then bang the crumbs off the tray and back it goes for the next customer's use.

Our tour took in three bakeries, all within a few blocks on Calle 16 de septiembre in Mexico City's Centro Histórico. Pan Segura is the smallest of the three, barely big enough for four or five people to shop for bread at the same time. Pastelería El Molino, just down the street, has been in business since 1918 and was purchased first by Carlos Slim Helú's Panadería El Globo and then was sold to Grupo Bimbo, a giant international wholesale bread-baking concern which bought both bakeries in 2005.

One small room on the first floor of Pastelería La Ideal.

Cochinitos (gingerbread pigs), detail of one tray with stacks and stacks of one of the most traditional sweet breads in Mexico, Pastelería La Ideal. The number of trays of cochinitos is beyond comprehension. Seeing is almost–almost!–believing.

Little cookie men in their two-button suits at La Ideal.

The crown of our bakery tour was its visit to Pastelería La Ideal, long one of Mexico Cooks!' favorite spots in Mexico City. The bakery is enormous. Founded in 1927, the bakery specializes in…well, it specializes in being special. The first floor is devoted to decorative and delicious gelatins, flans, small cookies called pasta seca, everyday cakes, and breads. Hundreds of kinds of breads–350 different kinds, to be exact. Unbelievable amounts of bread, but there it is: right in front of your eyes and absolutely believable. This bakery alone (it has two more branches in the city) turns out 50 to 55 thousand pieces of bread every day, seven days a week.

Muffins with candied fruits, Pastelería La Ideal.

This branch of Pastelería La Ideal is closed for cleaning for exactly one hour a day. If you go between five and six o'clock in the morning, you'll find the doors locked. Otherwise, teams of master bakers (17 to 20 per shift, three eight-hour shifts per day) supervise and work with 350 workers to give us this day our daily bread.

La Ideal traditional package on Mexico Cooks!' dining room table. We bought our neighbor a coffee cake. Honest, it was for her, not for us.

During the early morning hours, you'll see men and women rushing up and down Calle 16 de septiembre and its surrounding streets, carrying packages from La Ideal, tied up with string, tucked under their arms or dangling from outstretched fingers. Mexico City's desayuno (breakfast), whether at home or at the office, almost always includes a pan, either salado or dulce (salty or sweet bread). Cuernitos (like croissants), biscoches (biscuits), panqué (poundcake), pan danés (Danish pastry), bigotes (bread shaped a bit like a moustache), orejas (elephant ears), and conchas (shells), plus bolillo, telera, and all the other kinds of breads fly off the shelves and into Mexico City kitchens, to be served with a coffee or hot chocolate.

Chocolate cake filled with strawberry marmalade and topped with cream horns, Pastelería La Ideal. In the evening, Mexico City stops back in at La Ideal to buy a little something for cena (light supper): a cake, a gelatin, or some cupcakes or cookies. This cake costs 190 pesos. Click on any photo to enlarge and show details.

The second floor of Pastelería La Ideal is entirely about big-deal party cakes. You and the person who is giving a party with you sit down at a tiny desk with a La Ideal sales associate to have a serious discussion about cake: how many people you plan to invite, how much other food there will be, what the occasion might be, how much you want to spend, and any other question you need to ask to have just the right cake made for your needs.

This six-kilo cake (model J-28) decorated with a chocolate basket and pink sugar roses would be perfect for your aunt's birthday, Mother's Day, or any occasion where a small cake is necessary. Hold onto your hats:

Model L-20, decorated with clowns, balloons, ribbons, and stalactites made of icing, weighs 25 kilos and is designed for a child's birthday party. Twenty-five kilos and four stories equal a mid-size cake at La Ideal. There are cakes for quinceañeras (girls' fifteenth birthday parties), engagement parties, first communion parties, and wedding receptions that weigh as much as 50 kilos or more. Those cakes are constructed with stories, bridges, and some have actual running-water waterfalls. The size of your expected crowd dictates the size of the cake.

Some things at your bakery are just about the same as they were when the Basques came to Mexico: bread is freshly baked throughout the day and night, it's affordable, and some is still quite delicious. Other things have changed completely: in most commercial bakeries, margarine or vegetable shortenings are used instead of butter, most everything is mechanized, and the lowly, delicious bolillo–Mexico's original white bread–is now more like cotton batting than like honest bread. But Jane Mason of Virtuous Bread and Mexico Cooks! have vowed to track down any real bolillo that still exists. It's the best thing since–since before sliced bread! I promise to report back.

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26 de May de 2012
Zirita: Exciting Cooking School Experience of the Taste of Michoacán

Zirita, in a rural paradise mere minutes from Morelia's busy Centro Histórico (historic center), is a center of traditional culinary teaching and experiences. Photo courtesy Guillermo Martínez Acebo.

The frame for Michoacán's traditional cuisine, in one of its most genuine forms, with the warmth of a wood fire and the application of hereditary techniques passed down through generations, are the essence of Zirita. Its creator, owner of Morelia's Restaurante San Miguelito and culinary promoter Cynthia Martínez, prefers to call it 'a workshop of gastronomic experiences'.

The old saying "…the mountain goes to Mohammed…" is especially true in terms of the opening of Zirita. The great merit of Zirita is its nearness to Morelia, Michoacán's capital. In the last several years, various regions of the state of Michoacán have become known for its ancestral culinary values. The subtleties, secrets, flavors and perfumes of some of the most reknowned sanctuaries of Michoacán's cuisines–for example, in the case of Angahuan, where Purhépecha women have continued and spread the great expression of food in their communities–will be present in these remarkable cooking classes. Zirita brings the regional cuisines of the most remote pueblitos (small towns) of Michoacán into readily accessible Morelia.

Michoacán's oro verde (green gold): the ubiquitous Hass avocado, which over the last 30 years has become one of the state's most lucrative crops as well as a prominent fixture in its cuisines.

Located close to Morelia's urban center and very nearly part of the city itself, Zirita is a space apart from the hustle and bustle of Morelia. The workshop location allows the visitor to experience the delights of country life, the sounds of nature, as well as the joys of flowers, fruits, and herbs as a daily recurring theme. Zirita is a small complex which has as its center a large troje (typical Purhépecha house). The troje, in turn, has, above all else, the kitchen as its heart: the place where supplies are stored, where preliminary food preparation is done. This is a traditional Purhépecha outdoor kitchen, supplied with all of the utensils used in any Purhépecha community's cooking techniques.

At Zirita, your hands-on experience will be preparing traditional foods typical of the pueblitos (small towns) of Michoacán as well as Mexican dishes common in other parts of the country. Photo courtesy Guillermo Martínez Acebo.

During a workshop experience, traditional cooks and visitors can prepare great delicacies from old family recetarios (collections of recipes). Those regional delights include atápakuas, corundas, uchepos, churipos, moles, adobos, and a thousand other culinary creations from the state of Michoacán. Needless to say, visitors learn to prepare tortillas from corn ground on the metate, patted out by hand, and cooked on a comal (clay griddle) placed over a fogón (cooking fire) contained by paranguas: the three stones which sustain the food world of the Purhépechas. The paranguas are a symbol of the cosmos, of family and community values, and of the relationship and harmony of humankind with nature and with the gods.

Chiles pasillas drying in the sun. When green, we know this long, fleshy chile as chilaca. Sun-dried in its mature (red) state, it is called chile pasilla. Typically part of the Michoacán chile repetoire, it is grown around north-central Queréndaro, Michoacán.

El Rincón de las Solteronas (the Old Maid's Corner), Restaurante San Miguelito. Photo courtesy Alejandro Canela.

Art and fine crafts are distinctive characteristics displayed at Restaurante San Miguelito, celebrated home of Saint Anthony standing on his head. The items displayed in the room, site of the hopes of so many women from Mexico and the world, are also a distinctive element of Zirita. In addition, Zirita has a great variety of herbs which complement the inventory of nuances, delicate touches, and details which nourish its cooking fires.

The wonderful Maestra Benedicta Alejo, fine regional cook and cornerstone of the Zirita experience, grinds green herbs and chile seeds on her metate. She is preparing tzirita, the typical Purhépecha dish that gives the cooking school its name.

Outdoor kitchen at Zirita, with its traditional fogón, comal, and all of the utensils common to the Purhépecha kitchen. Photo courtesy Guillermo Martínez Acebo.

Conceived as a cooking school, Zirita (which means 'seed' in the Purhépecha language) offers several different experiences to anyone who is interested in knowing the essence of Michoacán's culinary traditions. Those traditions, nourished by legends and family tips, by old sayings and anecdotes, by the wisdom of traditional cooks, is presented almost as if the women were in their own homes. However, in this case it is a shared home, completely outfitted as a faithful replica of the different processes of cooking. Broken down into specific themes, ranging from how to make a tortilla to the preparation of the most complex dish of mole de boda (wedding mole), Zirita offers an opportunity to learn these culinary traditions from their most worthy and authentic bearers. In addition, the visitor learns to use the tools and classical artifacts of the Mexican kitchen, right down to the teachers' secrets for their maintainance and use–including how to cure or 'educate' a metate.

The metate and metapil (three-legged volcanic stone grinding board and its roller). This kitchen tool has been used since well before the Spanish arrival in the New World.

Cynthia Martínez said, "This has been a very intense effort, from the construction of the site to the fitting-out of the different areas. To begin with, traditional cuisine is an authentic showcase of the riches of our people with the added factor that in addition to its beauty, everything in the cuisine has a use.

Zirita cooking class taught by Maestra Benedicta Alejo. Photo courtesy Rubén Hernández.

"Nevertheless, the intellectual and emotional richness, and the sum of so many lives are concentrated in this place with the presence of women like Benedicta Alejo, one of the most enthusiastic transmitters of our culinary inheritance. By way of the courses, local, national, and international visitors can live the excitement of making their own tortillas, of grinding chiles, of treasuring our wild herbs as part of one of life's rituals. The huge difference is doing these things in completely traditional terms, living the chat and the get-togethers which start in our markets. Much of the wisdom that our women possess makes them standard-bearers and the ones who will continue to impart the knowledge of food which is one of our great national treasures, as a culture and as a country."

Original article written by Rubén Hernández and published in Spanish at Crónicas del Sabor, translated by Mexico Cooks!.

Zirita
Zirita Culinary Experiences
Circuito de los Manzanos 250
Colonia Arcos de la Cascada
San José del Cerrito
Morelia, Michoacán
Tel. 011.52.443.275.4536 (from the United States)
All of the Zirita experiences are available in either Spanish or English.

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

12 de May de 2012