Category: Recipe

A waiter at Morelia's Tortas Ahogadas Guadalajara restaurant, on the run with a tray full of delicious tortas and tacos ahogados for hungry customers.

Mexico Cooks! lives in a beautiful and primarily residential neighborhood of Morelia, Michoacán.  However, just down our street and around a couple of corners is a wide street lined on both sides with small businesses.  On Wednesdays, our weekly tianguis (street market) sets up in a plaza on the west side of that street.  A wonderful La Michoacana ice cream store is next to the market, along with an upholsterer, a small discount pharmacy, a stained glass maker, an upscale kitchen design center, a shoe store or two, and several take-out food shops.

The torta ahogada from Tortas Ahogadas "El Chile".

Best of all, this street is home to at least three–or four, or maybe more–open-air restaurants that specialize in tortas ahogadas, the signature 'drowned' sandwich from Guadalajara.  The torta ahogada is a like a French dip sandwich gone crazy.  The restaurant-lined boulevard is affectionately known as el boulevard de la torta (Sandwich Row).  Every restaurant is popular and every diner has his or her favorite torta: this bread is more 'authentic', that sauce has more chispa (spark), the outside edges of this pork filling are crisper.  It's the kind of debate that creates conversation and friendly argument for years, not unlike the debate over thin versus thick crust pizza, Coke versus Pepsi, and soft-serve versus scooped ice cream.

Tortas Ahogadas "El Chile" opened about six months ago.  The afternoon we were there, our table and two others had a total of six customers, although the restaurant seats about 50.  It's hard to be the new kid on the block. 

Mexico Cooks! decided to take on the down-and-dirty job of taste-testing three of these tortas ahogadas joints.  As Judy pointed out, "It's in the name of research, you know.  It's a tough job, but somebody's got to do it."  To keep the taste-test fair, Judy got to order whatever she wanted, but I ordered the same style torta at each of the three restaurants.  We dined at each place at about three o'clock in the afternoon, prime time for the main meal of the day in Mexico.

Long lines, day after day after day, are the hallmark of Tortas Ahogadas Guadalajara.  This Morelia restaurant has been serving tortas ahogadas and little else for 17 years.  The restaurant seats about 150 people and has an equally busy second location just a few blocks away.

The formula for a torta ahogada is simple: split open a crusty, densely crumbed birrote salado (sugarless white flour sandwich roll), fill it with lean chopped pork, thoroughly drench the sandwich with a tomato-y salsa picante (hot sauce), and top with thinly sliced pickled onions.  It's that easy, and it's that complex.  For starters, where does the restaurant get its bread?  It's almost impossible to find a real birrote salado outside Guadalajara.  Is the pork overcooked and mushy, is it tender with those crispy, caramelized edges, is it fatty?  Does the salsa have just the right amount of vinegar, just the right amount of chile de árbol, just the right amount of tomato?  Are the pickled onions white onions or red onions?  Restaurant rivalries are born from these differences, as are friendly debates over the merits of various tortas.

The torta ahogada at Tortas Ahogadas Guadalajara.

Originally from Guadalajara and still served at carts, stands, and restaurants everywhere in that city, the quintessential torta ahogada is best eaten at Estadio Jalisco during a game of fútbol (soccer) while the sauce runs down your hands and arms.  Tapatíos (nickname for a Guadalajara resident) or not, people now snarf down tortas ahogadas all over Mexico.

The sign at Ahogadas Jalisco reads, "Here and now and for many years, we are Ahogadas Jalisco, giving you, your family and your friends something different."  Ahogadas Jalisco seats about 80 people and has been in business for seven years.  It was jammed with customers the day Mexico Cooks! ate there.

Anywhere you eat a torta ahogada, you ask for it brought to you at just the level of picante you like: 1/4, 1/2, 3/4, or muerta.  One-quarter means that the sauce for 'drowning' your sandwich is mostly very thin tomato sauce mixed with a quick hit of chile.  One-half means the sauce will be twice as hot as the 1/4.  Three-quarters…well, you get it.  Muerta means that your sauce will be 100% chile, no tomato.  Muerta
means DEAD, and you might well be if you eat this and aren't accustomed
to its substantially more than intense level of mouth heat.  For
research purposes, I ordered mine media (half) and added more chile as required.

The torta ahogada at Ahogadas Jalisco.

Here's a recipe:

Torta Ahogada Estilo Guadalajara (Guadalajara Style 'Drowned' Sandwich)

600 grams fresh ripe tomatoes
50 grams chile de árbol
pinch of pepper
pinch of salt
1 clove of garlic
1 bay leaf
Water
2 whole cloves
2 Tbsp white vinegar
1 tsp oregano, preferably Mexican
1 medium white onion, minced
600 grams thinly sliced freshly made carnitas
12 birrote salado or other small loaves of crusty, dense bread

Thinly sliced pickled onions for garnish.

Cook the tomatoes, minced onion, and garlic in water, until soft. Drain, reserving cooking liquid.  In a blender, blend until as smooth as possible.  Use cooking liquid to thin as necessary; the salsa should be quite thin.  Strain.  Season to taste with salt and pepper.  Reserve.

Cook the chiles.  Add vinegar, oregano, cloves, and salt to taste.  In a blender, blend until very smooth.  Strain.  Reserve.

Split open the birrotes, leaving the top and bottom halves hinged together.  Put each one on its serving plate (a shallow soup plate is the best).  Pack 100 grams of sliced carnitas into each birrote. 

Ask each of your comensales (diners) how much picante he or she wants on the torta and custom-mix the chile you prepared with the reserved tomato sauce.  Douse the torta very liberally inside and out with the sauces your guests requested.  The sandwich should be soaked and swimming in sauce.  Garnish with pickled onions, and serve.

Serve bowls of chile and bowls of thin tomato sauce on the side so your guests can add more of either.

Serves six.

These young Morelia beauties ordered tacos ahogados and shared a papa rellena (stuffed potato) at Ahogados Jalisco.  For an order of three tacos, the restaurant covers crisp-fried tacos de carnitas with tomato and chile sauce to your taste, then tops it all with shredded cabbage and pickled onions.

All three restaurants are bargains.  A torta ahogada costs about 15 pesos, an order of three tacos ahogados costs about 18 pesos.  All of the restaurants offer soft drinks, beer, and aguas frescas at reasonable prices.  Some of the restaurants have specialties other than standard tortas.  For example, El Chile has tortas y tacos ahogados de camarón (shrimp) on the menu and Ahogadas Jalisco sells addictive papas rellenas (baked potatoes stuffed with thin-sliced fried ham, melted cheese, and mustardy cream sauce and garnished with a chile toreado).

The outstanding papa rellena (stuffed potato) at Ahogadas Jalisco.

Just for you, Mexico Cooks! sacrificed herself on the altar of culinary research and ate tortas ahogadas for days, to the point that Judy laughingly said the next stop was Peptobismolandia.  Which tortas were the best? 

We loved the tortas at Tortas Ahogadas Guadalajara for several reasons: the delicious, crisp-along-the-edges meat, the marvelous flavors of the sauce, the ambiance (including the recorded music), at the jumping restaurant, the attentive service.  The bread at Ahogadas Jalisco was the best, the tacos ahogados were great, and we swooned over the papa rellena.  The owner at Tortas Ahogadas El Chile was completely accommodating and trying his best to succeed, but his restaurant has a hard act to follow: it's right across the street from Tortas Ahogadas Guadalajara, the major player on el boulevard de la torta.  You'll have to visit Morelia and try them all yourselves!

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Mexico Cooks! attended the July 1, 2009, Simposio de Los Quelites (Symposium of Wild and Cultivated Mexican Greens) at the Jardín Botánico (Botanical Garden) of the UNAM (National Autonomous University) in Mexico City.  The day-long symposium featured talks by scientists, chefs, nutritionists, and other members of Mexico City's culinary community.

Quelites are the edible, tender, newly grown parts of wild (and in some instances, cultivated) plants.  Those tender parts include buds and flowers, shoots, and new leaves.  The name quelite comes from the Nahua word quili-tl.  Quelites that are commonly eaten today are verdolagas, guías de frijol, puntas de calabaza, papaloquelite, flor de pitahaya, guaje, pata de gallo, huihuila, quelite cenizo, and hoja santa.  Some quelites are eaten as vegetables and some are used like herbs, for flavor in a prepared dish.  Many are common, both in fields and markets, and some are quite rare.

Dr. Javier Caballero, director of the Jardín Botánico, gave opening remarks about the history of research at the 50-year-old garden.  He celebrated not only the ongoing work at the research center, but also the part the center has played in the preservation and rescue of ancient Mexican greens.

In the pre-Hispanic era in Mesoamerica, maíz (corn) was the king of plant food.  Corn's companions in the kitchen were chile and wild herbs, in addition to occasional wild game.  In his Codice Florentino, Fray Bernadino Sahagún documented this same diet that prevailed after the Spanish conquest and which, in many instances, continues to be the predominate diet.  Almost five hundred years post-conquest, maíz is still king in Mexico.

The stage display at the symposium featured both native Mexican quelites and vegetables that came to Mexico during and after the Spanish conquest.

Many of the speakers referred to the Spanish Franciscan Fray Bernardino de Sahagún and his exhaustive Codice Florentino, a compendium of 16th Century 12-volume Nahua, Spanish, and Latin writings accompanied by hand-drawn illustrations.  In the Codice, Sahagún described thousands upon thousands of details about indigenous life in Nueva España, including an entire volume about everyday and ritual foods.

Maestra Edelmira Linares and Dr. Robert Bye were both organizers and presenters at the symposium.  Their well-received talk covered the discussion of quelites in the Codice Florentino.  Dr. Bye and Maestra Linares stressed that Mexico eats all of its weeds; of the nearly 2000 species of quelites known to Fray Bernadino Sahagún, 500 are still used in Mexico's kitchens.

Dra. Karen Dakin (left), noted UNAM linguist, and prominent chef and writer Diana Kennedy animatedly discussed Dra. Dakin's fascinating talk about the etymology of Nahua naming of various quelites.  In the afternoon session, Sra. Kennedy gave a delightfully informal talk about the quelites consumed in rural parts of Mexico.  Sra. Kennedy drew a laugh from the audience when she said, "Some of these dishes may be treasures in the pueblos where they're made, but not all of them are to my liking."

Dra. Dakin stressed that the 'why' of words–how they are formed, what their roots are–is as important as their definitions.  This slide from her fascinating talk shows that the Nahua word ayoh-yaca-quili-tl (guía de calabaza [squash vine tendrils]) comes from ayoh (calabaza=squash), yaca (point, or nariz=nose–the part that goes out in front), and quili-tl (green vegetable).  A later speaker pointed out that right up to the present day, children running ahead of of a group of adults–like a squash vine's tendrils running out in front of the main vines–are sometimes called narices (noses).  Another speaker, Maestra Jiapsy Arias, pointed out that the Codice Florentino contains nearly triple the amount of information in Nahua as it does in Spanish.

Berros con elotes y crema (watercress cooked and served with corn kernels and cream).

Mid-afternoon at the symposium was devoted to what was touted to be a muestra de gastronomía y degustación: a food demonstration and tasting.  Mexico Cooks! and the rest of the assembled assumed that the degustación would include small tastes of a variety of edible plants.  Some people (names deleted to protect the guilty) actually thought we'd best plan to have our comida (the main meal of the day) elsewhere: these weeds would never sustain us through the rest of the day!  We were so wrong.

Rollitos de pechuga de pato con quelites (little rolls of duck breast with quelites).  These tidbits were simply fantastic: the flavors of the delicate breast of duck, the deep green quelites, and the pepitas combined to be more than the sum of their parts.

The group of chefs in charge of the degustación prepared so many beautiful and delicious dishes that it seemed we were in the presence of a latter-day loaves and fishes miracle.  Nearly 150 people ate until we were all but comatose. 

Tamalitos de quelites con queso (little tamales with quelites and cheese), from Chef Ricardo Muñoz Zurita's magnificent on-campus Restaurante Azul y Oro at the UNAM.

Rollos capeados de huauzontle con queso de cabra (Rolls of huauzontle and goat cheese).

The flavors of every dish were superb.  Mexico Cooks! is hard-pressed to say which of the many dishes were her favorites.  The rollitos de pechuga de pato were a revelation, as were the tamalitos de quelites from Restaurante Azul y Oro, as were the berros con elote y crema.

Jericalla de quelites con hojas de quelite, estrella de anís, y tres mieles (custard of quelites with cheese, star anise, and three kinds of honey).  These tiny custards, no more than an inch in diameter, were marvelous as prepared by Chef María Elena Lugo Zermeño of Mexico City and Querétaro.

If pushed to the wall, however, I think I would have to choose–for sheer surprise and perfection–the jericalla de quelites (photo above).  The unexpected silky sweetness of the custard,
the speck of crystalized leaf, the crackle of the star anise, and the drizzle of
three honeys made this finale to our comida simply breathtaking.

The symposium was an enormous WOW! from start to finish.  The organization, execution, and thoughtful details were absolutely tops.  It doesn't get much better than this.

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

Fresh from the fields, these gorgeous pimientos morrón rojo y amarillo (red and yellow sweet peppers) sell for about 60 pesos the kilo ($2.25 USD the pound) at the tianguis where Mexico Cooks! shops.

Nearly two years ago, in August 2007, Mexico Cooks! featured every sort of produce, dairy product, and meat sold at a local tianguis (street market) near Guadalajara, Jalisco.  For the entire month of August 2008, you read about seasonal availability of fruits and vegetables at the dozens of regularly scheduled tianguis (it's the same word in singular and plural) in Morelia, Michoacán.  Mexico Cooks! would rather shop at a hot, crowded, and sometimes smelly tianguis than at an air conditioned supermarket, rather shop for supremely fresh foods at a tianguis than give a second glance to anything frozen, boxed, or canned that's offered for sale elsewhere.

A signmaker with a sense of humor stuck this tag on his fresh Roma tomatoes: "Like you saw it on TV".  These were offered at 14 pesos the kilo (about 50 cents US the pound).

The tianguis, wherever in Mexico it's held, is a basic part of the culture of modern Mexico.   Its name comes from the Nauhatl word tianquiztli, market.  Although Nahuatl markets are centuries old, the present-day form of the tianguis is fairly recent, originating during the 1970-76 Mexican presidency of Luis Echeverría Alvarez.  The author of the tianguis project in Mexico was José Iturriaga, Echeverría's former finance minister.

Cooked in a sweet syrup, whole calabaza de castilla (squash, left), camote (sweet potato, right), and higos (figs, rear) are available at the tianguis by the kilo or portion of a kilo.  They're to be eaten for breakfast or supper.

Although Iturriaga was himself a wealthy, educated, and cultured man, he worried about the ability of Mexico's poor to feed their families.  He was especially concerned about the availability of nutritious fresh foods sold at reasonable prices.  The tianguis, otherwise known as a mercado sobre ruedas (market on wheels), was his idea.  The government took charge of giving Mexico's working-class housewives and other food shoppers stupendous quality at the lowest possible prices.

Beautiful cebollitas de cambray (knob onions), ready for serving with carne asada (grilled meat, usually accompanied by grilled whole onions like these.

Still operated by local government, today's tianguis only sometimes reaches Iturriaga's ideal.  Often the produce can be second-rate, the meats and seafood far less than fresh, and the market's hygeine questionable–while prices are often as high or higher than the días de plaza (sale days) in upscale supermarkets.

Higos–figs, at the peak of maturity and ripeness–enjoy a relatively long season here in Mexico.  We recently paid 100 pesos for two kilos of beautifully ripe figs and prepared half a dozen jars of you-don't-want-to-know-how-good fig conserve.  Later this winter, spread on a toasted and buttered bolillo (small loaf of fresh-baked bread) from our tianguis, served over ice cream, or licked off the finger, the conserve will be an intense memory of summer.

Mexico Cooks! is a regular customer at one of the better tianguis in Morelia.  Our tianguis, set up early Wednesday mornings, is quite near our house.  Our normal purchases include tortillas, bread, seafood, excellent pork ranging from maciza (fresh pork leg) to tocino (bacon), all of our fruits and vegetables, cheeses and cream, grains, and flowers for the house.  We don't eat much beef and prefer to buy raw chicken at a supermarket.

Tiny plátanos dominico (finger bananas, about 2.5 inches long) are just one of the banana varieties we usually see at the tianguis.

Prices at the Wednesday tianguis in our neighborhood, while not substantially lower than those at the supermarket, are still not higher than we care to pay.  We usually budget 400 pesos (about $30 USD) to buy what we need at the tianguis for a week's meals, including pork and sometimes shrimp.  We budget another 400 pesos for purchases at the supermarket. 

On a recent Wednesday–when the refrigerator was bare of produce, as we had been out of the country for more than a week–these were our purchases:

6 large fresh white onions
1 huge cantaloupe
4 big mangoes
6 red-ripe tomatoes
1/2 lb mushrooms
1 big avocado
2 large bananas
1 large papaya
1.5 lb fresh green beans
8 h
ot-out-of-the-oven bolillos
Total cost: 150 pesos–the equivalent of about $11.00 USD.

Stands offering prepared foods are always popular at any tianguis.  This woman at the Tianguis del Sol in Guadalajara is preparing hand made huaraches (a long, thick oval of corn masa (dough), similar to a tortilla, served with various toppings).

Times and needs change.  Urban Mexico views the tianguis as both a terrible bother (who would want one on their street, with its attendant noise and mess) and a joy (but where else can we get produce this fresh!).  Mexico Cooks! knows people who will not shop at a tianguis, and we know people who will not shop anywhere else.  Come with us some Wednesday and see what you think.

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The tiny storefront with the hand-lettered sign Joaquinita Chocolate Supremo is at Calle Enseñanza #38 in Pátzcuaro, Michoacán.

In Pátzcuaro, the tradition of chocolate de metate (stone-ground chocolate) is still alive, personified by Sra. María Guadalupe García López.  Doña Lupe, as she is called by everyone who knows her, continues the work started in Pátzcuaro in 1898.  The family recipe for chocolate de metate was left to her as a legacy by her mother-in-law.  Rightly proud of her hand-ground chocolate, Doña Lupe said, "I'm convinced that by now, just about everyone in the whole world knows about chocolate de metate, and everyone who tastes it falls in love with it."

Costales (huge burlap bags) of raw cocoa beans from the state of Tabasco.  Doña Lupe stores the costales in a cool spot in her sótano (basement).

In Pátzcuaro, there are several home-based businesses which make chocolate that claims to be made on the metate, but its preparation and commercialization are not authentic.  Doña Lupe says that Joaquinita Chocolate has no locations other than
her home.  "Some of the chocolate makers here in town claim to be my
children or my grandchildren, but they're not.  They're not part of
Joaquinita Chocolate." Joaquinita Chocolate is not only the best known, but is also completely authentic in its preparation.  

From the sidewalk, the house is unprepossessing.  It looks like most houses in the central part of Pátzcuaro: painted white, with a deep, ochre-red base.  But come closer, step up to the door: you'll be stopped in your tracks by the rich fragrance of home made chocolate.  Breathe.  Walk in.  You'll never learn the jealously guarded secret of Doña Lupe's recipe, but you'll taste one of the legendary treats of Mexico's past and present.

Lovely Doña Lupe is ready to drop a tablet of her chocolate semiamargo (semisweet) into a pitcher of near-boiling water, just as in the story, "Like Water for Chocolate".  The molinillo (hand-carved wooden chocolate whip) beats the melted chocolate into a thick froth and it's ready to serve.

Chocolate was unknown to Spain and to the rest of Europe in 1519, when Cortés arrived on the shores of the New World.  Moctezuma and the highly-placed leaders in his court knew its subtleties; Cortés was soon initiated into its delights.  Mixed with vanilla and other spices including chile, xocolatl (shoh-coh-LAH-tl) needed to be mixed with water and beaten to a heavy froth before being consumed unsweetened.  Europeans quickly discovered that a bit of sugar took away the bitterness and enhanced the flavors of the new drink.  Before long, chocolate was the rage of Europe as well as a near-addiction for Europeans in the New World.

The process of making chocolate estilo Doña Lupe (Doña Lupe-style chocolate) starts with the finest beans from the state of Tabasco, in southern Mexico.  Doña Lupe says that the seed (what we usually call the cocoa bean) has to be the best, or else the chocolate loses its texture and its flavor.  She won't use a lesser bean.

Toasting cocoa beans over a wood fire requires constant stirring.  The fogón is shaped like a horseshoe to accommodate the cazuela.

While the carbón (natural wood charcoal) heated on the fogón (raised fire ring), Doña Lupe talked about making chocolate de metate.  "First we take as many beans from the costal (large bag) as we need for the day.  Normally, I make 20 to 30 kilos of chocolate tablets every day. 

"Next I clean the beans, taking out any small stones, any leaves–anything that would adulterate the chocolate"  Doña Lupe dipped into the huge bag of cocoa beans and put them by handfuls into an harnero (strainer), sifting through them as she poured them through her fingers, shaking the strainer to get rid of any tiny impurities.  She put the cleaned cocoa beans into a cazuela de barro (deep clay cooking vessel).

The large aluminum pot in the foreground holds ground cocoa beans that shortly will become a smooth, rich masa de cacao (sweetened chocolate for tablets). 

Doña Lupe's chocolate kitchen, in the lower level of her home, is furnished with traditional petate (woven reed) mats for warmth, while the room where the costales of cacao beans are stored is kept cool to preserve the beans.

Doña Lupe grinds cocoa beans the old-fashioned way, using a metate and mano.  A small fire (under the metate) keeps the metate and the cocoa beans hot during the grinding process.

The chocolate, ground smooth, rests in a wooden batea (shallow oval bowl).

Doña Lupe uses a metal mold to form the sweetened soft chocolate into individual tablets.  The top of the tablet of sweetened soft chocolate is scored into four quarters with the metal round to the left in the photograph. 

The tablets air-dry in the warmth of the chocolate kitchen.  The tablets that are scored in half are chocolate amargo: unsweetened chocolate.  Both chocolate semiamargo (semisweet chocolate for making hot chocolate) and chocolate amargo sell well.

When the chocolate is completely dry, Doña Lupe packages it in pink paper.  A packet of sweet chocolate contains nine tablets.  A packet of chocolate amargo contains seven.

She glues the label to the package and the chocolate is ready to sell.

This hand-embroidered tablecloth in Doña Lupe's dining room depicts cups and pots of hot chocolate, as well as the saying, "Chocolate Joaquinita, Industria Casera Desde 1898" (Cottage Industry since 1898).

Mexico Cooks! would love to know the proportions of chocolate, sugar, and cinnamon that Doña Lupe uses to make her chocolate tablets, but then she wouldn't have a secret recipe.  We contented ourselves with buying a package of chocolate amargo (for baking) and a package of sweetened chocolate (for preparing hot chocolate).  When you're in Pátzcuaro, be sure to stop in at Joaquinita Chocolate Supremo for your own supply of traditional chocolate.

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Antique wooden crosses grace the light-filled comedor (dining room) at Rancho Casa Luna, San Miguel de Allende, Guanajuato, Mexico.

Three ranch-raised rabbits, ready to prepare in the professional kitchens at Rancho Casa Luna.

A few months ago, Mexico Cooks! 'met' (in that 21st Century virtual way, via a social networking website) Dianne Kushner, owner of the fabulous Casa Luna bed and breakfast hotels and newly opened Rancho Casa Luna (for weddings, private parties, and cooking classes) in San Miguel de Allende.  As it turned out, Dianne and I had a number of real-life friends in common.  Dianne invited Mexico Cooks! to Rancho Casa Luna to cook with some old friends as well as with some new friends. 

Three teams of professional chefs and their assistants made the menu plans: rabbit, grown at Rancho Casa Luna and cooked in a variety of ways.  We chose a Mexican recipe, a French recipe, and a Spanish recipe and were happily surprised by a fourth recipe for a Moroccan tagine.

Billie Mercer, Judy McKnight, and Dianne Kushner worked as chef's assistants.  They're wearing their team aprons, embroidered with flags of Mexico, France, and Spain.  Each of the teams decided to cook in an unfamiliar cuisine, just for the exercise.  Mexico Cooks! was eager (and a little nervous) to be in charge of a French recipe.

It was hard to drag ourselves away from relaxing on the terrace at Dianne's heaven-on-earth. 

Rancho Casa Luna is perfectly designed for lounging on the terrace, watching the earth spin slowly from daybreak to its last purple light.  Nevertheless, Ruth Alegría, Ben, and Billie (the Mexican team); Henri, Jessica, and Dianne (the  Spanish team), and Judy and I (the French contingent) gathered at eleven o'clock Friday morning to start hopping (you should forgive the expression).  We had nine ranch-raised rabbits, what looked like a ton of fresh vegetables, and every pot, pan, spoon, and knife you can imagine.

A few of the ingredients for the Spanish rabbit preparation.  The photo shows about a quarter of the enormous bunch of gorgeous fresh rosemary that Henri and Jessica cut to bring for their dish.

Our teams of chefs and assistants prepared other dishes to accompany the rabbits.  By team:

• Mexico:  cold crema de chile poblano (creamed chile poblano soup) with minced apple, the Moroccan rabbit tagine, fresh mango pie.  Team Mexico prepared Conejo en Chile (Rabbit in Chile)from Diana Kennedy's Mexican Regional Cooking, pp. 74-75.
• Spain:  parsleyed new potatoes, braised acelgas (Swiss chard), salad of grated carrot, cilantro, and jugo de limón
• France: fresh green beans with diced fresh red pepper, mixed-greens salad with caramelized walnuts and balsamic vinaigrette. 

Jessica and Henri Moyal of San Miguel de Allende (with Dianne as their assistant on Team Spain) sliced and diced, chopped and peeled–and peered intently at the recipe for their rabbit.

Team Spain's rabbit, browning perfectly, had marinated overnight in balsamic vinegar.

Ben Wenske formerly owned the Tuba Garden restaurant in San Francisco, California.  He was one-third of Team Mexico for the rabbit marathon.  Judy of Team France is stealing secrets as Ben hands a recipe to one of the other teams.

Lapin aux Pruneaux, French rabbit with prunes, is ready for the oven.

Moroccan rabbit tagine, ready to bake.

Rabbit Tagine
(courtesy Ziryab Mediterranean Grill, San Francisco, CA)

Ingredients
16 garlic cloves, peeled
3/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
3/4 cup chopped fresh Italian parsley
2 cups chopped onions
1/2 cup fresh lemon juice
1/2 cup olive oil
2 tablespoons paprika
4 teaspoons grated lemon peel
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon saffron threads
1 rabbit, approximately 1.5 kilos, cut in 8 pieces
3/4 cup olives, black or green
1 1/2 lemons, sliced thin

Procedure
In a food processor, finely chop garlic, cilantro, and parsley.  Transfer to a bowl.  Add onions and the next nine ingredients; mix well.  Add rabbit pieces, olives, and lemons; toss.  Cover and chill for at least two hours and up to one day.

Pre-heat oven to 450°F.  Put rabbit and seasonings in a large ovenproof pot.  Add 1.5 cups water.  Cover and bake until rabbit is cooked through, approximately one hour.  Serve from baking dish or transfer to a warm platter.

Billie surveys the peaceful dining room at Rancho Casa Luna, waiting for the arrival of massive amounts of food and happy cooks.

At last!  The nine of us sat down for comida (main meal of the day) at about four in the afternoon.  That's Dianne Kushner, with her back to us; to her left is Henri Moyal, then Judy McKnight, then the top of Ben Wenske's head, Jessica Moyal, Ruth Alegría, and Ned and Billie Mercer.  Mexico Cooks! took the photo.  Our meal started with Ruth's chilled crema de chile poblano.

One dinner plate, completely loaded!  We had almost enough food.  If the truth be known, we could easily have fed 20 or more guests, in addition to our teams of cooks and assistants. 

The rabbit cook-a-thon was an amazing combination of old friends, new friends, work, and fun.  Thanks to our generous and welcoming host Dianne Kushner at Rancho Casa Luna, to the openness, warmth, and spirit of sharing in the kitchens, to laughter and good people and best of all, to great eating. 

We're planning to produce more events–teaching, cooking, eating–and Mexico Cooks! would love for all of you to participate.  Let us know when you'd like to come to our newest outpost in San Miguel de Allende and we'll let YOU know all the details.

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