Category: Kitchens and Cooking

Capirotada :: Traditional Dessert for Lent in Mexico

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

12 de March de 2022
Cuaresma (Lent) Has Begun! Help! I Need an Easy and Delicious Meatless Meal!

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

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

Sister Celia Gutiérrez Cortés in 1982

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

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

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

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

Procedure

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Makes four generous servings. Provecho!

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

5 de March de 2022
The Best Signage EVER at Mexico City’s Mercado de Jamaica. What? The SIGNS?

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

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

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

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

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

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

White potatoes for 10 pesos the kilo: smile.

Beautiful crisp cucumbers: ask for more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

26 de February de 2022
A Pre-Hispanic Treat in a Modern Kitchen :: Alegrías, A Sweet Joy from Mexico

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alegrías (Happiness Candy)

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

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

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

Piloncillo, honey, and lemon juice in the pot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Freshly made alegrías, ready to travel!

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

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

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

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

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

12 de February de 2022
Mexico’s Niño Dios (Baby Jesus), Honored and Loved on February 2nd, the Feast of La Candelaria

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[youtube=://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h4rcQDmyffo&w=420&h=236]
This lovely video from Carapan, Michoacán shows both the gravity and the joy (and the confetti!) with which various families' Niños Dios are carried to the parish church.

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

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

5 de February de 2022
Is There A Difference Between What’s Authentic and What’s Traditional in the Mexican Kitchen?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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29 de January de 2022
What’s the Straight Story on Mexico’s Mealtimes? Here’s Comida, the Main Meal of the Day

Back by popular demand! So many Mexico Cooks! fans ask questions about what we eat at mealtimes–and when exactly DO we eat? Last week, this week and next week, we'll take a close look at what's to be found on the Mexican table, and at what time of day.

In Mexico, a complete main meal will most often start with an entrada (appetizer). This dish of guacamole is meant to be scooped up with its garnish, crispy chicharrón (fried pork skin).

Mexico's main meal of the day is comida, which is eaten sometime between two and five o'clock in the afternoon. Prime time for comida is three o'clock; in many places all over the República, businesses still respect the old-time rule that closes business doors during mid-afternoon meal time. In fact, unless the business mentions that it observes horario corrido (continuous work day) you can assume that from two until at least four in the afternoon, its doors are closed to business. Its workday is from 10:00AM to 2:00PM and from 4:00PM to 8:00PM.

Crema de cilantro (cream of cilantro soup). The soup course, which can be a caldo (clear broth), a consomé (another kind of clear broth, usually chicken), or a crema (cream soup), comes after the entrada.

In cities and towns all over Mexico, you'll find fondas, comida económica, and comida corrida restaurants. All of these small, usually family-run restaurants specialize in full meals that stoke your furnace for the rest of your workday and beyond. In addition, in many cities there are high-end restaurants that specialize in comidas for professional and business lunches, others that are designed for the ladies-who-lunch trade, and still other, family-style restaurants that invite everyone from the oldest great-grandpa to the newest newborn to enjoy time together.

A variety of prepared salads for sale in a market. Sold by the kilo or portion of a kilo, these salads are meant to be taken home and eaten along with your comida.

Mexico's signature mole con pollo (mole with chicken) is popular for the platillo fuerte (main dish) at a comida, whether served at home or in a restaurant. Many regions of the country have special mole recipes; some, like those found in Puebla or Oaxaca, are very well known. Others, especially some from the state of Michoacán, are less well known but equally delicious.

Most comidas include rice–here, arroz rojo with corn kernels.

These Jalisco-style albóndigas (meatballs) are traditional and typically served as a platillo fuerte for comida, along with their delicious sauce, a big helping of steamed white rice, a garnish of avocado, and a tall stack of tortillas.

Many soon-to-be-visitors to Mexico write to me saying something like this: "I want to plan for breakfast in the hotel and a meal in such-and-such a restaurant at lunchtime. Then we want to go for dinner at such-and-such restaurant." Unless you are a professional eater–and I know that some of you are!–it's difficult to fit all of that food into one day, given the times of day that meals are usually eaten here. If you're having breakfast at your hotel, many of the available dishes will look like those featured here last week. They're very, very filling. Just a few hours later, it's time for comida, an even more filling meal when eaten in a restaurant.

Carne de cerdo en salsa verde (pork in green sauce) is a typical home-style dish (in this instance, just being put into the Mexico Cooks! oven) often served for comida. Of course it is preceded by an appetizer, a soup, and perhaps a salad; it's accompanied by red or white rice, refried beans, and a stack of tortillas–and followed by dessert!

Lonche de pechuga de pollo (cold chicken breast sandwich, garnished with lettuce, tomato, and pickled chiles jalapeños). This kind of sandwich is neither lunch nor comida, but it's delicious and will fill you up till late in the evening. Photo courtesy Big Sky Southern Sky.

"Lunch" as it is eaten in the United States or elsewhere does not exist in Mexico. You might see a restaurant sign reading "LONCHERÍA", but it refers to a kind of cold sandwich known as a 'lonche', not to a place where you can have lunch. A lonche can be eaten at any old time–between meals, instead of meals, before or after a movie, and so on.

This is a boiling pot of Michoacán carnitas–huge chunks of lean pork, boiled in freshly rendered lard until the pork is fork-tender with crisp, chewy outsides. Coarsely chopped and served by the platter, ready to stuff into hot-off-the-fire tortillas and top with minced onions, chopped cilantro, super-spicy salsa, a sprinkle of sea salt and a squeeze of lime, carnitas are usually breakfast food, but can be a rustic and delicious comida all on their own.

Gelatina is a common light dessert following a heavy comida.

On the other hand, you will almost always have room for a slice of old-fashioned creamy flan.

Next week, we finish our day of Mexico's meals with cena–supper!

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15 de January de 2022
The When, What, and MORE About Mexico’s Mealtimes :: Desayuno Is Breakfast

Back by popular demand! So many Mexico Cooks! fans ask questions about what we eat at mealtimes–and when exactly DO we eat? This week and for the next two weeks, we'll take a close look at what's to be found on the Mexican table, and at what time of day.

A classic quick breakfast in the USA, circa 1950s: cold unsweetened cereal, a banana (sliced), milk, and sugar.

Several times a month, Mexico Cooks! receives queries from folks in other parts of the world about mealtimes and what's eaten at which meal in Mexico. It can be challenging to plan a trip to any country, including Mexico, where mealtimes are different from what you might think of as 'normal'. This week and for the next two weeks here at Mexico Cooks!, you'll learn more about meals and mealtimes.

In Mexico, a huge variety of pan dulce (sweet bread) is available for breakfast. These are conchas (shells), so-called because of the design impressed into their sugared tops. Have your pan dulce with either hot chocolate, coffee, or a steaming cup of atole (a corn-based hot beverage).

It can be even more challenging for anyone raised in one frame of reference to understand that breakfast isn't always about what you have always thought of as your earliest meal of the day. Many years ago, when I was first living in Mexico, the light bulb came on for me: breakfast food is whatever you happen to eat for breakfast. You know how leftover pizza straight from the refrigerator is a guilty breakfast for a lot of people in the States? A slice is really a perfectly adequate breakfast. Lots of Mexican breakfasts are just like that: whatever food is available at the moment.

The corunda is a regional tamal from Michoacán. This corunda, filled with cream cheese and topped with Mexican table cream and a sauce made of roasted tomate verde (known in the USA as tomatillo), chile perón (a Michoacán-grown chile), makes a great desayuno when accompanied by a cup of hot locally-grown blackberry or guayaba (guava) atole.

People in Mexico frequently eat two morning meals. The first is desayuno, which comes from the root word ayunar, to fast. Desayuno literally means "I un-fast" and is ordinarily eaten first thing in the morning, maybe before work while you are standing in the pre-dawn kitchen thinking about the coming day on the job or gobbled while you are hurrying the kids into their school uniforms. This breakfast consists of something quick and simple or a smear of yesterday's frijolitos refritos on a leftover tortilla, washed down with a glass of fresh orange juice; a pan dulce still hot from the corner bakery, accompanied by a cup of té de manzanillo (Mexico's ubiquitous chamomile tea). It's just enough to help your brain kick into gear.

This Mexico Cooks! desayuno includes home-made calabaza en tacha bathed in hot milk plus a slice of pan relleno con chilacayote (bread filled with sweetened chilacayote squash paste), served with fresh juice or coffee.

At home, Mexico Cooks! occasionally prepares molletes, an old-time family favorite. I butter and grill a bolillo (a dense-textured and crusty white bread roll), add a thick smear of chile-spiced refried beans, and top them with huevos volteados (over-easy eggs) and salsa cruda (raw salsa). With a glass of fresh-squeezed orange juice and a big mug of coffee, this almuerzo is really stick-to-your-ribs.

Around 10.30 or eleven o'clock in the morning, when the stomach starts to require something more substantial to keep the body going, many people take a break for almuerzo. There really is no adequate word in English for this meal. It's not breakfast and it's not a snack. Almuerzo is typically a larger meal than desayuno. Workers on a construction job, for example, often stop work, build a little fire, and heat up yesterday's leftover main meal of the day that they've brought along in a 'tupper'–the generic word for a covered plastic container. Warmed-up leftovers, a stack of tortillas, and a fresh-made pot of coffee keep the girders going up.

Another really hearty almuerzo: a plateful of enchiladas verdes con pollo deshebrado (enchiladas with shredded chicken in green sauce) topped with finely grated white cheese and minced onion, accompanied by a guarnición (side) of refried beans.

Here's another typical almuerzo in Mexico: chilaquiles verdes (fried tortilla strips simmered in green sauce), topped with grated white cheese and thinly sliced white onions, then crowned with huevos a gusto (eggs however you like them). Add a side of frijolitos refritos, a plate of ripe papaya, a warm-from-the-oven bolillo, either salsa or butter for the bread, and a great cappuchino, all served on a sunny terrace. Heaven…

Next week, next meal! We'll save your place at the table.

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8 de January de 2022
Ponche Navideño :: Hot Christmas Punch, Excellent All Winter Long

Mexico's fragrant, delicious ponche navideño–Christmas punch, served hot. Loaded with seasonal fruits and sweet spices, it's a do-not-miss at our Christmas festivities and is often served throughout the winter season, which is downright chilly in the Mexican highlands. The recipe is simple and the rewards are many; you, your family, and your holiday guests will love it as much as all of us do. Photo courtesy México Desconocido.

At nearly every winter party in Mexico, you'll find a big vat of steaming hot, homemade ponche navideño. Served with or without a piquete (a shot of rum, tequila, or other alcohol), this marvelous drink will warm you from the inside out. Really, it wouldn't be Christmas (or a posada, or New Year's Eve) without it. Here's the recipe I've used for years.

Ponche Navideño Mexicano**
**You should be able to buy everything on this list at your local Latin market

2 pounds sugar cane, peeled and cut into 3” sticks
1 pound apples, cored and cut into thin slices or chunks
1 pound pears, cored and cut into thin slices or chunks–Bosc are excellent for this
10 ripe guavas, cut in quarters and seeded
Peel of one orange
1 pound tejocotes, cut in quarters and seeded
1/2 pound tamarind fruit removed from the pods and deveined
1/2 pound prunes with or without seeds
2 ounces dried jamaica flowers
2 cloves
1 star anise pod (optional)
1 kilo piloncillo (Mexican brown sugar)
1/2 cup white sugar (optional)
2 long sticks Mexican cinnamon, broken in thirds or quarters

6 quarts of water or more

Special Equipment
A 12-to-14 quart lidded pot
__________________________________________________________________

Before you start cutting up fruit, put 6 quarts of water in a pot, cover it, and over high heat, heat it until it boils.

Add all the cut fruit to the pot and bring the pot back to a boil. Then lower to simmer and simmer for 20 minutes. If you think the pot needs more water, bring it to a boil separately and add it little by little.

Add the tamarind, the prunes, the jamaica, the cloves, the piloncillo, the white sugar, the cinnamon, and continue to simmer until all of the fruit is soft and tender.

We usually ask our adult guests if they'd like their ponche con piquete (with alcohol–rum, tequila, etc). Add a shot to each cup as requested, prior to adding the ponche.

Serves 12 to 15. If you have some left over, save it (fruit and all) till the next day and re-heat. Ponche navideño is even better the second day!
_____________________________________________________________

Sugar cane is in season right now! On the left, you see it in the already-peeled cut-to-size "sticks" you want for your ponche. On the right, you see the unpeeled sections that you want for your piñata! Thanks to Verónica Hernández at Mexico City's Mercado Medellín (corner of Calle Campeche and Av. Medellín, Colonia Roma) for letting me take this photo; if you're in the city, look for her and her employer, Mario Bautista, at Booth 138–tell her you saw her caña (sugar cane) on Mexico Cooks!.

The fragrant perfume of ripe guayabas (guavas) permeates our markets right now–they're in season and ready to buy for ponche.

Seasonal tejocotes–Mexican hawthorn, similar to the crabapple. Each of these fruits measures approximately 1 1/4" in diameter. The fruit is very high in pectin, which slightly thickens a pot of ponche. If you simply cannot find tejocotes, substitute another pound of apples.

Tamarind pods with their shells on. Be sure to peel off the shells before cooking! If you're unable to find the pods, use about 1/4 pound tamarind paste.

These are prunes with seeds. You can use these or you can used seedless prunes.

These are the dehydrated jamaica flowers you need to make ponche. They add deep red color and slight tartness to the drink.

Star anise for your ponche. You will find this in the store where you usually buy spices, at a Latin market, or at an Asian market.

Look at this huge display of piloncillo (molded raw brown sugar) at the Mercado de Jamaica, Mexico City! One kilo will be enough for this recipe's ponche. Click on any photo to enlarge.

This is what's known as canela–Mexican "true cinnamon". The truth is, it's grown in Sri Lanka and imported to Mexico. Notice how many, many layers of very thin bark are folded in on one another. This cinnamon is quite soft, breaks and flakes easily, and is what you want to look for to use in ponche and any other Mexican recipe calling for cinnamon. Do not be misled into buying cassia, a much more readily found, much harder in consistency, and much less flavorful "fake" cinnamon usually found packaged in the United States. Look for canela at your Latin market; the sticks are usually quite long. These measure nearly a half-meter! To the right side are Mexican raisins, which, if you like, you can also add to the ponche.

Old-fashioned Mexican peltre (enamel over metal) cups filled with ponche navideño. Be sure to put a lot of all of the varieties of fruit into each cup. Those are caña (sugar cane) sticks (colored pink by the jamaica flowers)–an edible decoration and a tool for pushing fruit from the cup into your mouth! Photo courtesy Kiwilimon.

Provecho! (Mexico's way of saying bon appetit!)

May your Christmas be filled with the love of family and friends, and with the delicious flavors of Mexico!

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25 de December de 2021
If You’ll Be in Mexico City Over the Holidays :: Pozole Moctezuma, the Best in Town

The block-long portion of Calle Moctezuma in Colonia Guerrero where the restaurant sits is just off Av. Reforma. It's right there in plain sight, but where? Mexico Cooks!' taxi driver missed it twice before he pulled up in front, and even then he couldn't believe we were anyplace we really wanted to be. There's no sign and no indication that the restaurant is anywhere on the block. Other restaurants, yes–but not the one you are looking for! The word 'pozole' next to the buzzer at Number 12 is your only clue that you are indeed in the right place.

Do the clandestine days of Prohibition appeal to you–those long-ago days when, if you wanted a snootful of booze runner's gin, you had to know somebody who knew somebody who knew where the gin joint was? "Joe sent me," was the joke of the era–knock three times, the little window in the door slid open, and if you were in the right place, knew the right people, and had the right look, you got in for a drink or two or three.

Something of those days continues to exist in Mexico City: not a gin joint, but a 75-year-old hidden and semi-secret restaurant very near the Centro Histórico. One of your capitalino friends will have been there; finding the address is still by word of mouth. Once you're pretty sure you're in the right place, buzz the doorbell marked 'pozole', and the door creaks open. Aha! Pozole estilo Guerrero–state of Guerrero style pozole–will soon be your comida (main meal of the day). But shhhh, this place is our secret, okay?

All of the best pozole starts with cabeza de puerco (a pig's head). Nothing else gives pozole its rich flavor and consistency.

If you've been following Mexico Cooks! for quite a while, you'll probably remember our 2008 article about my beloved friend doña María Medina's pozole estilo Jalisco. Jalisco-style pozole is almost always red, colored and flavored by chile guajillo and is usually prepared with nixtamalized native cacahuatzintle corn. Until a few weeks ago, Jalisco-style pozole was the only kind Mexico Cooks! had eaten. Not any more! We have now partaken of several other pozole pleasures.

The caldo (soupy part) of Guerrero-style pozole is green, more often than not, and prepared in part with pepitas (squash seeds). The dried, nixtamalize-d (simmered with builder's lime and water) corn is white, not red. The flavor is much milder than that of Jalisco-style pozole, and the accompaniments can be decidedly different.

Our group of comensales (diners)–in this instance, happy fellow pozole-slurpers and good friends. From left in the photo: Judith McKnight, photographers Sergio Mendoza Alarcón and Bertha Herrera, journalist Rubén Hernández, and journalist Nadia Luna. The empty chair is mine, and we were later joined by the delightful gastronomer Silvia Kurczyn.

If you are interested in preparing a delicious meal for your friends and family–especially good on a cool fall day, a chilly winter day, or on one of Mexico City's cool, rainy summer afternoons–pozole estilo Guerrero is just the ticket. There are many recipes available on the Internet, both in Spanish and English–not necessarily the exact family recipe used at Pozole Moctezuma, but delicious nonetheless.

Our group indulged in several appetizers: an entire plateful of very fine rolled tacos de chorizo (chorizo is a spicy pork sausage, in this case house-made) and laden with finely chopped onion and fresh cilantro–plus a squeeze of fresh limón), disappeared before I could snap its picture. I pulled the second appetizer plate over to me as soon as it arrived at table; this plate is filled with tostadas de frijoles refritos con chorizo y jitomate (crispy tortillas with refried beans, the same chorizo used in the tacos, and thinly sliced tomatoes). I could have eaten all six tostadas, they were that delicious. The yellow plate in the background holds freshly made chicharrón (fried pork skin) to eat by itself, spread liberally with crema de mesa (table cream) or to break up a little and add to the pozole.

Each of us ordered the medium-size pozole, more than enough for medium-size appetites or for folks who had already eaten several appetizers. Compare the size of the bowl with the good-size avocado behind it. Our bowlsful, replete with rich pork meat, nixtamal-ized corn, and Guerrero-green broth, arrived at table just as you see this one. Behind the bowl at left are a plate of chicharrón (rear), a plate of plain tostadas, and, to the right, the avocado.

My bowl of pozole after adding condiments. I know the green in the center looks like broccoli, but in reality it is pieces of avocado just spooned out of the skin. Also in the bowl are a sprinkle of oregano, a sprinkle of chile piquín, a spoonful each of minced onion and chile serrano, and a bit of chopped cilantro. On the back edge of the bowl (at twelve o'clock) is a piece of chicharrón gordo, with a creamy square of deep-fried pork meat still attached. Next to the chicharrón is a tostada smeared with thick crema de mesa, (Mexican table cream), sprinkled with just a bit of the same chile piquín. In the bowl itself, just in front of the green avocado, is a slice of sardine. Its slightly fishy saltiness added the perfect je-ne-sais-quoi to the pozole. According to my compañeros de mesa (dining companions), pozole estilo Guerrero is often served with a sardine accompaniment. The various elements of the pozole represent all of the elements of the state, including the high plains, the jungle, and the coast.

This restaurant, with more 75 years of history behind it, has been witness to countless events important to Mexico City and the country as a whole. Here, history has been made and history has been changed, young men propose to their girlfriends and politicians plan their campaigns. During one crucial comida, the guns of opposing political factions had to be checked at the door. Jerónimo Álvarez Garduño, the gallant great-grandson of the founder, is executive chef of the restaurant that got its start long before he was born. Its beginnings, in the kitchen and living room of his great-grandmother's upstairs apartment (Number 6), were hidden from public view for the security of the restaurant's clients. Álvarez Garduño works together with his parents, Yolanda Garduño and Guillermo Álvarez López, to ensure that the great Guerrero tradition of "jueves pozolero" (pozole Thursday) continues in Mexico City.

Things are not always what they seem: arroz con huevo estrellado (rice with sunny-side up fried egg) is a typically Mexican dish–served in an atypical form at Pozole Moctezuma. Here, it's dessert: arroz con leche topped with a syrupy peach half.

After comida, ask for café de olla–normally, a special Mexican coffee sweetened in the pot with piloncillo (raw brown sugar) and cinnamon. At Pozole Moctezuma, you will be served instead with a glass of anise liqueur, a few roasted coffee beans floating on top. The restaurant has never had a liquor license, but some alcoholic beverages by other names are available: a refrescada (mezcal with grapefruit soda) to start your meal, beer to go with your pozole, and this lovely café de olla to finish your meal. Soft drinks are also served.

Pozole Moctezuma is a true, rich taste of Mexico City's yesteryear. By all means, if you are visiting the city, go. You'll be so glad you did.

Pozole Moctezuma
Moctezuma #12 (Ring the bell to be admitted)
Colonia Guerrero
Distrito Federal
Monday through Saturday 2PM – 7PM
Pozole verde on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday
Reservations: 5526-7448

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18 de December de 2021