Category: Recipe

This traditional Mexican kitchen dates to the early part of the 20th Century.

Home cooking for you might be your mother's macaroni and cheese. For my
friend Shana it's her grandmother's potato latkes, for Danny it's the
fond memory of his Aunt Ethel's apple crumble. And for me? For the last 30 years, my taste buds and heart have been drawn by the smells and
flavors of the Michoacán home kitchen.
The first kitchen fragrance that fills my memory is that of pine wood
burning in the clay stove centered in the mountain kitchen. One note
behind the wood smoke is the scent of beans boiling in a clay pot, and
the fragrance chord is finished by a top note of tortillas toasting on
the clay comal (a
large flat clay griddle). The home kitchen closest to my heart belongs
to Débora, my friend who lives at more than 9500 feet above sea
level, about two-thirds of the way up the highest mountain in Michoacán.

Thick, handmade Michoacán blue corn tortillas baking on a clay comal.

When I visited Débora at home for the first time, my entire notion of
how a house looks was turned upside down. My friend Celia (Débora's
sister) had invited me to travel home with her for two weeks:"Ven conmigo a mi tierra, a conocer a mi mamá,"
she said. ("Come with me to my hometown, to meet my mother.") Thirty years ago, we
traveled for 52 hours, from Tijuana to what I often tease Débora as being el último rinconcito del mundo
(the last little corner of the world), by train and by three different classes of bus.  The last 27 kilometers of the
trip (approximately fifteen miles) was a jolting three hour ride in a converted school bus, on an unpaved road. You read that
right: three hours to drive fifteen miles. We were traveling on a dirt road that wound nearly
straight up the mountainside.

From the bus stop in front of the mayor's office we walked two blocks up another hill and opened a
small door in a long wall.  We walked up three wide slate steps into a dirt
patio—and the house? I looked around, wondering where the house was.

Outdoor kitchens like this one are still common in Michoacán's rural areas.

I could see one room with a door (the bedroom, I found out later,
complete with three rope beds and their corn husk mattresses), and
a sitting-eating-sewing-talking room that had only three walls and
was open to the air.  The kitchen was a tiny room with an opening
but no door to close. That was the entire home.

Looking around, I saw chickens picking and scratching all over the dirt floor of the central patio, the pila

(a single-tap cold water concrete sink used for washing clothes and dishes), an
outdoor beehive clay oven, a path that I later discovered led to the
outhouse, and a tiny, elderly woman wrapped in a rebozo
(typical shawl) sweeping with a broom made of twigs: Celia's mother.
Flowering trees and shrubs surrounded the patio; enormous dahlias in
all colors blessed the wildness of the garden.

Tired from the long trip, I was soon put to bed at Aunt Delfina's house  next door.

Early, early the next morning, I stuck my head out the spare
bedroom door and saw mist hanging among the mountains. I sniffed
the clean scent of pine smoke in the chilly air. A hint of coffee fragrance
followed, and the toasty corn smell of freshly handmade tortillas
cooking. I dressed and went to see what Débora was doing next door in
that tiny kitchen.

The metate y mano (three-legged volcanic stone grinding stand and its rolling pin) have been in use since centuries before the Spaniards arrived in the New World.

Débora was outside, standing near an outdoor stove made of a vertical oil drum. She was grinding
nixtamal (dried
corn prepared for making dough) on a metate (grinding stand) and patting out tortilla
after tortilla, placing them onto the clay comal on top of the stove to cook. We smiled buenos días
to one another and she gestured to offer me a fresh hot tortilla. I ate
it eagerly and excused myself and went to peek into the kitchen.

What I saw astonished me. In the center of the dim windowless kitchen
was a rectangular stove made of clay, plastered over and colored deep
brick red.

The four burners were six-inch diameter holes on top of the stove.
Below each burner hole was a long horizontal compartment for inserting
and burning split pine wood. The center chimney took most of the smoke
out through the roof.

Wooden shelves holding dishes and clay cooking pots hung on the neatly
whitewashed walls. On a low
ledge, several kinds of fresh and dried
chiles were piled on reed mats. A few cobs of dried corn, a plate of
fresh pan dulce,and
some fruits I didn't recognize were arranged on a small wooden table.
Above my head, aged woven reed baskets filled with foodstuffs—dried
corn, flour, coffee, a bag of beans—hung from smoke-blackened beams.

A votive candle burned in the corner near a small print of Our Lady of
Guadalupe.  A jelly glass filled with garden dahlias graced the tiny
altar.  A steaming clay pot of beans for the midday meal burbled on a
stove burner.

Typical bean pots made in Capula, Michoacán.  If you need one, just tell the vendor the weight of the beans you usually cook: half a kilo, a kilo, or more at a time.  The vendor will show you a pot of the correct size.

I gazed at this amazing kitchen with awe. There were no modern
conveniences at all, not even a sink or refrigerator. As I stared, Celia
stepped in and smiled at me. "This is the way the kitchen has been
since long before I was born," she said. "My great-grandmother cooked
here, my grandmother cooked here, my mother cooked here, and Débora and
I learned to cook here. All that we know of the kitchen is from here."
She gestured to encompass the tiny space.

"How does Débora keep food like milk and leftovers cold?" I asked.

Celia thought for a minute. "The milkman comes on his horse
every morning and sells her just what she thinks she'll need for the
day. He dips the milk out of his big metal milk can with a liter
measure and pours it into one of her clay pots. If there's a bit left
over at the end of the day, she gives it to the cat or she mixes it with really stale
tortillas for the pig.

The local butcher sells Débora exactly the quantity of meat she needs to prepare each day's comida (main meal of the day).  In Mexico's small towns, a red flannel flag hanging on a pole outside the shop is the indication that the butcher has freshly-butchered meat.

"Débora only buys enough meat for today, and it's always meat that is recién matada
(butchered today). The meat that's killed and wrapped in plastic to be
sold in the big markets—who knows how old that is! It never tastes as
good as today's freshly cut meat.

"Then if there is food left over from la comida (the
midday meal), we eat it for supper later. If there's still a little
left, she gives it to the pig. Nothing goes to waste. And if she buys a
few limones (Mexican limes), she buries them in the ground to keep them fresh."

"What else will you teach me while I'm here?" I asked.

Celia shook her head. "This time you just watch and pay attention. Next time you can try your hand in the kitchen."

Many of the traditional recipes from Michoacán have their roots in the Purhépecha culture. Corundas, uchepos, minguiche, churipo—the first two are types of tamales, the third is a cheese dish and the fourth a soup—are just-post-Conquest Purhépecha recipes and are only a few of the many dishes that make Michoacán's cuisine extraordinary.

There are other Mexican recipes that, while not unique to Michoacán,
have strong ties to the state. There are some recipes which you may
want to try to duplicate in your home kitchen. If you're not able to
purchase all of the ingredients you need for these recipes, buy a
ticket instead and come to taste the cuisine of Michoacán in its
natural habitat. I'd be glad to take you on a food-tasting adventure.

Queso Cotija (cheese from Cotija, Michoacán) is aged–like fine wine–before being sent to market.

Many recipes from Michoacán include both corn and cheese,
cornerstones of the daily diet. Corn is one of Mexico's native grains
and Mexico, especially the state of Michoacán, is famous for its
cheeses. Cotija
(coh-TEE-hah), a town in Michoacán, has given its name
to the aged cheese used for topping refried beans and other dishes. If
you can't find it in your grocer's cheese case, you can substitute
another aged, crumbly cheese.

Chiles are also an important part of the Michoacán diet. Nearly all of the
fresh and dried chiles available everywhere in Mexico are found in the
state, as well as at least one variety that grows almost exclusively in Michoacán,
the chile perón. Chile perón
is approximately the size of a golf ball and is bright yellow to orange
in color. It has black seeds, a fruity flavor, and is extremely hot. On
a scale of one to ten, it registers about an eleven!

The beautiful and muy picante (very spicy!) chile perón is used extensively in the cuisine of Michoacán.  It's also known as chile manzano–and is the only chile in the world with black seeds.

The corunda is a traditional Michoacán tamal that can be made
either with or without a filling. These are made with a cheese and mild
chile filling and are served with cream and a spicy salsa.

Corundas Michoacanas (Michoacán Corn tamales)

For the corundas:
3 kilos masa (corn dough) (if there is a tortillería near you, buy it there)
2 cups water
1 kilo (2.2 pounds) pork lard or vegetable shortening
5 Tablespoons baking powder
Salt to taste
30 fresh green corn stalk leaves (NOT the dried corn husks sold for ordinary tamales)

      
For the filling:
1 kilo queso doble crema (similar to cream cheese, which you can substitute)
1/2 kilo chiles poblanos, roasted, peeled, seeded, and cut into strips 2" long by 1/4" wide

Preparation:
With a large wooden spoon, beat the corn dough and the water together for approximately 30 minutes. Set aside.

With another large wooden spoon, beat the lard until it is spongy. Add
the beaten dough to the lard, together with the baking powder and the
salt. Continue beating until, when you put a very small amount of the masa in a cup of water, it floats.

Take a fresh corn stalk leaf and place three tablespoons of dough on
the thickest side of it. Make a small hollow in the dough and put a
tablespoon-size piece of the cheese and three or four strips of chile in the
hollow. Cover the cheese and chile strips with another three tablespoons of
the dough. Fold the corn stalk leaf over and over the dough until it
has the triangular shape of a pyramid.

Continue making corundas until all the dough is used.

Put three cups of water in the bottom of a large steamer pot or tamalera. Use the rack that comes with the steamer pot to hold the first layer of corundas. Place all the corundas
in the pot, cover, and bring to a boil. Lower the heat so that the
water is actively simmering but not boiling. Be careful during the
steaming process that the water does not entirely boil away; check this
from time to time.  Put a coin or two in the bottom of the tamalera; as the water boils, the coins will rattle.  When you no longer hear the rattle, add more water immediately.

Allow the corundas to steam for one hour and then
uncover to test for doneness by unwrapping one to see if the dough
still sticks to the corn stalk leaf. If it still sticks, steam for
another half hour. When the leaf comes away from the dough without
sticking, the corundas are done.

Salsa:
1/2 kilo (1 pound) tomates verdes (called tomatillos in the United States), husks removed
6-8 chiles perón (substitute chiles serrano if necessary), washed
1 small bunch fresh cilantro, washed
Sea salt to taste

Wash the tomatillos until they are no longer sticky. Fill a large saucepan half full with water and bring to a boil. Add the tomatillos and the chiles and boil until the tomatillos  begin to burst open. With a slotted spoon, remove each tomatillo from the pot.  When all of the tomatillos are in the blender, add the chiles
to the blender. Cover and blend at a low speed until the ingredients
begin to chop well, and then stop the blender. If your blender has a
removable center piece in the cover, add the cilantro little by little
through that hole as you turn the blender back on to 'liquefy'. If the
cover has no center hole, add some cilantro, blend, stop, and add more
cilantro until all is blended. Do not chop the cilantro too finely, as
you want flecks of it to help give the salsa both color and texture.
Add salt to taste and stir.

To serve the corundas:
Unwrap a corunda and place it in a shallow soup bowl. Spoon unsweetened heavy cream over the corunda and top with several spoonfuls of the salsa.

Making any sort of tamales (including corundas)
is hard work and is always more fun if you can plan to do it with a
friend or two. Let the kids help, too. Make a party of it, with the big
reward—the eating—at the end.

A corunda with salsa and crema, served by Doña Ofelia at her stand near the Basílica  de Nuestra Señora de la Salud (Our Lady of Health) in Pátzcuaro.

There will be plenty of corundas left over for everyone to take some
home for the next day. It's easy to reheat them. Just leave them
wrapped in their corn stalk leaves when you put them in a plastic bag
to refrigerate them. Then when you're ready to reheat, place as many as
your microwave will hold in a Pyrex dish. Cover them with paper
toweling and microwave on high until they are hot throughout. They're
just as good left over and they also freeze well.

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Chiles en nogada (stuffed chiles poblanos in walnut sauce), Pátzcuaro, Michoacán.  Photo by Mexico Cooks!.

Mexico celebrates its independence
the entire month of September with parades, parties, and traditional
food and drink in restaurants and at home.  The traditional festive dish
during the weeks before and after the Independence Day holiday is chiles en nogada, a magnificent tribute to the seasonal availability of granadas (pomegranates) and nuez (freshly harvested walnuts). From late August till early October, fresh pomegranates and walnuts make chiles en nogada possible.  Spicy chiles poblano, stuffed with picadillo and topped with richly creamy walnut sauce and pomegranate seeds, flaunt the brilliant green, white and red of the Mexican flag.

This
festive dish is
traditionally served on September 15 or 16 in honor of Mexico's
Independence Day, though it is popular anytime in the late summer and
fall. During
August and September in the highlands of Mexico, particularly in Mexico
City and Puebla on the streets bordering the markets, village women can
be seen sitting on blankets painstakingly peeling off the brown skin
from each individual walnut. It is important to use the freshest
walnuts possible, as they produce such a creamy, rich sauce that it is
worth the effort demanded to peel them.  Yes, the recipe is time-consuming…but you and your guests will jump up and shout "VIVA!" when they've licked the platters clean.

Ingredients

For the Meat 

• 2 pounds beef brisket or other stew meat or 1 pound beef and 1 pound pork butt 
• 1 small white onion, quartered 
• 2 large cloves garlic 
• about 1 Tbsp sea salt

 For the Picadillo 

• 4 Tbsp safflower or canola oil
• 1/3 cup chopped white onion
• 3 large cloves garlic, minced
• 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon 
• 1/4 tsp freshly ground black pepper
• 1/8 tsp ground cloves
• 3 heaping Tbsp raisins
• 1 or 2 chiles serrano, finely minced
• 2 Tbsp chopped walnuts or pecans
• 2 Tbsp chopped candied pineapple
• 1 fresh pear, peeled and chopped
• 1 apple, peeled and chopped
• 1 large potato, peeled and diced
• 3 large, ripe tomatoes, roasted, peeled and chopped
• sea salt to taste

For the Chiles 

• 6 fresh chiles poblanos, roasted, peeled, and seeded, leaving the stem intact 

 For the Nogada (Walnut Sauce) 

• 1 cup fresh walnuts 
• 6 ounces queso doble crema or cream cheese (not fat free) at room temperature 
• 1-1/2 cups crema mexicana or 1-1/4 cups sour cream thinned with milk 
• about 1/2 tsp sea salt or to taste
• 1 Tbsp sugar   
• 1/8 tsp ground cinnamon 
• 1/4 cup dry sherry (optional)

For the Garnish 

• 1 Tbsp chopped flat-leaf parsley
• 1/2 cup fresh pomegranate seeds

Method

Cut
the meat into large chunks, removing any excess fat. Place the meat
into a large Dutch oven with the onion, garlic, and salt. Cover with
cold water and bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Skim off any foam
that collects on the surface. Lower the heat and allow the water to
simmer about 45 minutes, until the meat is just tender. Take the pot
off the stove and let the meat cool in the broth. Remove the pieces of
meat and finely shred them.

Warm
the oil in a large, heavy skillet and sauté the onion and garlic over
medium heat until they turn a pale gold. Stir in the shredded meat and
cook for five minutes. Add the cinnamon, pepper, and cloves, then, stir in
the raisins, the two tablespoons of chopped walnuts. Add the chopped pear,
apple, and potato, and mix well. Add the tomatoes and salt to taste,
and continue cooking over medium-high heat until most of the moisture
has evaporated. Stir often so that the mixture doesn't stick. Let cool,
cover, and set aside. The picadillo may be made a day or two in advance.

Make a slit down the side of each chile, just long enough to remove the seeds and veins. Keep the stem end intact. Drain the chiles, cut side down, on paper towels until completely dry. Cover and set aside. The chiles may be prepared a day in advance.

At
least three hours in advance, put the walnuts in a small pan of
boiling water. Remove from the heat and let them sit for five minutes.
Drain the nuts and, when cool, rub off as much of the dark skin as
possible. Chop into small pieces. Place the nuts, cream cheese, crema,
and salt in a blender and purée thoroughly. Stir in the optional sugar,
cinnamon, and sherry until thoroughly combined. Chill for
several hours.

Preheat the oven to 250ºF. When ready to serve, reheat the meat filling and stuff the chiles until they are plump and just barely closed. Put the filled chiles, covered, to warm slightly in the oven. After they are thoroughly heated, place the chiles (cut side down)
on a serving platter or on individual plates, cover with the chilled
walnut sauce, and sprinkle with the cilantro (or parsley) and
pomegranate seeds.

This dish may also be served at room temperature, or it may be served chilled. It is rarely if ever served hot.

Photos 2, 3, 4, and 5 courtesy of Jesús Guzmán Moya, M.D., of Puebla, Puebla, México.  Enjoy more of Dr. Guzmán's lovely photos here.  Gracias, amigo Chucho!

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The sign on the entry wall at Restaurante La Mesa de Blanca in Ziracuaretiro, Michoacán says that the place is a "restaurant of celebration".  Whether your celebration is simply a pleasant comida (midday meal) for you and your family or a huge party for friends, the joy of life overflows at Blanca's table.

Two weeks ago, Mexico Cooks! wrote about the glorious Ruta de Aromas y Sabores 2010 tour through Michoacán.  For me, the highlight of that part of the tour was our stop for comida at Restaurante La Mesa de Blanca in tiny, far off-the-beaten-track Ziracuaretiro.

The wonderful Sra. Chef Blanca Estela Vidales, who, together with her equally wonderful husband, Don Rodrigo Lemus, founded La Mesa de Blanca nearly nine years ago.  Chef Blanca's joyful personality fills the restaurant with happiness.

Nearly 100 well-known chefs and journalists from all parts of the world had boarded tour buses and vans that morning, heading for truly fascinating culinary destinations in west-central Michoacán.  The day bore down on all of us; no matter that we were eager to do and taste and experience everything on the tour agenda, the plus-ninety degree heat, blazing sun, and the accumulated exhaustion of nearly two weeks on the road had us all fainting in our bus seats.  The buses took ever more twisting mountain roads through enormous avocado orchards as many of us dozed in silent appreciation of the on-board air conditioning.  But where were we going?  A few more turns in the road and we stopped in the tiniest town imaginable.  The driver opened the bus door and WOW!  The booming tuba and brilliant horns of a brass band shook the sleep from all of our heads.

The ofrenda de plátanos (banana offering) in Ziracuaretiro.

The Aromas y Sabores 100-member tour, preceded by a brass band, the ofrenda de plátanos, and a group of restaurant servers dressed in Michoacán's ropa típica (regional clothing) danced up the hill to the restaurant.

The charming restaurant was ready for the onslaught of the suddenly hungry members of the tour.  Open to the fresh mountain breezes, decorated with tropical greenery, and roomy enough for the largest party, La Mesa de Blanca is a gorgeous surprise.  Click on the photo for a better view of the restaurant's interior stream filled with golden koi.

Chef Blanca made certain that every table was complete with a variety of botanas (appetizers) and aguas frescas (fresh-made juice drinks.  The house-signature agua fresca is made with locally-grown blackberries.  The botana pictured above is ceviche made of Michoacán-farmed rainbow trout and the famous Hass avocados grown in the region around Uruapan.

Another botana, this time Blanca's famously delicious guacamole with house-made chicharrón and grilled nopal cactus paddles.  The entire meal was accompanied by interleaved stacks of fresh-from-the-comal blue and white tortillas.

After a choice of either tortilla soup or sopa de milpa (chicken broth with corn and squash)–and some diners had both!–the main course included a locally grown, sun-dried chile pasilla stuffed with cheese, aporreadillo en salsa de aguacate (dried, seasoned beef and scrambled egg in avocado sauce), and a heavenly uchepo (regional specialty fresh-corn tamal).

In addition, servers brought each table a huge wooden batea (tray), lined with banana leaves and piled with freshly made, juicy carnitas.  The carnitas were so delicious that the six tour members at Mexico Cooks!' table gobbled them all down and asked for more, which also promptly disappeared.

Along with locally-grown coffee, every diner sampled three desserts: volcán de mango (mango 'volcano' served on a purée of local strawberries), a tamal de zarzamora (sweet blackberry tamal) and ice cream made from regionally-grown mamey.  Every item of meat and produce is produced within shouting distance of the restaurant.

The ofrenda de plátanos, called "La Cuelga", is a local Ziracuaretiro tradition celebrated especially during the banana harvest.  Why?  In 1554, Don Vasco de Quiroga brought the first five banana plants to this spot in Michoacán from the island of Santo Domingo.  In thanksgiving for the first successful banana harvest in the New World, these offerings are still made every year on November 30.  Aromas y Sabores 2010 was privileged to experience the tradition at La Mesa de Blanca.

Mexico Cooks!' delightful friends, Juan Bosco Castro García (Director of Promotion for the State of Michoacán's Department of Tourism) and Executive Chef Lucero Soto Arriaga, Restaurante LU, Hotel Best Western Casino, Morelia.  Every person traveling with the Ruta de Aromas y Sabores 2010 tour had a marvelous time–and an equally marvelous comida–at La Mesa de Blanca.

Every table in the restaurant offers a beautiful view.  Choose from misty Michoacán mountainsides, the Ziracuaretiro pink and white church tower, or this vision of the restaurant garden and banana trees; no matter where you look, you will find a fresh and restful vision.

Whether you are visiting Uruapan, Pátzcuaro, or Morelia, it's a simple drive to La Mesa de Blanca.  You need not be part of a special tour to receive a very special welcome and eat a very special meal.  Please, when you go, tell Sra. Blanca that you read about her here on Mexico Cooks!–and give her a big hug from me.

La Mesa de Blanca
Avenida Ferrocarril sin número

Ziracuaretiro, Michoacán, México
Tels: 01.423.593.0355 or 01.423.593.0356

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Last week we met Doña Yolanda Rodríguez Orozco, the delightful cook at Morelia's Buffet Hacienda Valladolid.

One of the most delicious items on the menu at Hacienda Valladolid is Albóndigas de Pollo en Salsa Verde (chicken meatballs in green sauce).  Because I promised that I would share the recipe with all of you, Doña Yola graciously shared her amazing recipe with Mexico Cooks!  Simple to prepare and marvelous to taste, these meatballs have already made it to star status on our dining table.

A chicken vendor grinds fresh chicken breast to order at the weekly tianguis (street market) in our neighborhood.  Ask the butcher at your supermarket to grind it for you.

Gorgeous dark green vitamin-rich spinach, ready to chop for the albóndigas.

Fresh mint grown in a pot on our terrace, along with beautiful fresh local eggs.

Albóndigas de Pollo en Salsa Verde Estilo Doña Yola
Chicken Meatballs in Green Salsa, Doña Yola's Way

Ingredients for the meatballs
1 kilo (2.2 lbs) freshly ground chicken breast
100 grams (1/4 lb) raw fresh spinach (stems removed), finely chopped
1 small white onion, finely minced
1 clove garlic, finely minced
1 Tbsp fresh mint, finely minced
1 chile serrano, finely minced
1/2 cup cooked white rice
3 eggs, lightly beaten
1 Tbsp Worcestershire sauce
Sea salt to taste
Freshly ground pepper to taste
1 tsp cornstarch or as needed

Ground chicken, spinach, onion, garlic, mint, and chile serrano, ready to mix with cooked rice.

Procedure
Lightly mix the first seven ingredients together.  Beat the eggs and Worcestershire sauce together and mix by hand into the mixture.  Add sea salt and ground black pepper to taste.  Add cornstarch until the mixture holds together well when you form a small amount into a ball.  Form the mixture into balls approximately 2" in diameter.  Makes 20 albóndigas.  Plate the meatballs in a single layer (Mexico Cooks! likes to re-use washed Styrofoam meat trays from the supermarket for the albóndigas), cover and refrigerate until ready to cook.

Tomates verdes (tomatillos) and chiles serranos for preparing salsa verde.  Remove the tomatillos'  papery husks and wash the sticky tomatillos thoroughly.

Ingredients for Salsa Verde
10-12 tomatillos (known in Mexico as tomate verde), husks removed
3 or 4 whole chiles serranos
1 bunch fresh cilantro, largest stems removed
Sea salt to taste

Procedure
In a large pot of water, bring the tomatillos and chiles to a full rolling boil.  Boil just until the tomatillos begin to crack; watch them closely or they will disintegrate in the water.

Using a slotted spoon, scoop the cooked tomatillos and chiles into your blender jar.  There's no need to add liquid.  Cover, hold the blender cap on, and blend until smooth.  Be careful not to burn yourself, this is a hot mixture and tends to react like lava in the blender.

While the blender is running, remove the center of its cap and, little by little, push the cilantro into the whizzing sauce.  Blend just un
til smooth; you should still see big flecks of dark green cilantro in the lighter green sauce.  Add sea salt to taste and stir.

Pour the salsa into a 2-quart pot.  Add the meatballs and bring to a simmer.  Cover and allow to simmer for about 30 minutes.  Mexico Cooks! prepared six meatballs for our comida (main meal of the day), but two meatballs apiece were plenty for the two of us.  We ate the leftovers (and another two meatballs) the following day.  We froze twelve raw meatballs without salsa for subsequent meals.

Albóndigas de pollo en salsa verde, plated with white rice cooked with carrots, Mexican style.

Mexico Cooks! is so grateful to Doña Yola for sharing her recipe with us.  These albóndigas de pollo are not only easy to prepare and very healthy (with high vitamin K and beta carotene content and no added fat), but they are also absolutely delicious.

Provecho!

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