Alfajores

Fruit is fruit (is fruit, as Gertrude Stein might point out), but for me, fruit is not dessert, one of the few points on which Mexico and I disagree. Outside of the standard tres leches cake for special occasions, fruit dominates the table as post-dinner snack. It's not as if Mexico doesn't have the ingredients or the oh-so-American sweet tooth; it just seems that, with the ever present viable option of fruit, desserts simply don't happen. Instead of dessert, Maizena is used in a variety of medicinal home remedies and dulce de leche (or cajeta as we say in Mexico) is relegated to a slathering on a slice of Bimbo white bread for breakfast.

Well, fruit is not a viable option for me after dinner, and, luckily, Argentina and Peru (and possibly other countries throughout Latin America) have found a better use for dulce de leche and Maizena corn starch. Alfajores, a corn starch cookie sandwich with dulce de leche in between, combines some of the most popular items on a Mexican grocery list (Maizena, coconut and cajeta) to create a super tasty treat. (And while it's flavor profile should make it a popular snack here, it's difficult to find - probably because it's not fruit!)

Ingredients
200 g AP flour
300 g corn starch (Maizena)
1/2 tsp. baking soda
2 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. salt
200 g butter, softened
150 g sugar
3 egg yolks
1 tsp. vanilla extract
1 tsp. lemon zest

dulce de leche, spreadable
shredded coconut, unsweetened

Directions

1 - Preheat the oven to 350*.

2 - Mix the dry ingredients (flour, corn starch, baking soda, baking powder and salt) together. Set aside.

3 - Cream together butter and sugar.

4 - Add egg yolks one at a time, mixing well between each one.

5 - Mix in the vanilla extract and lemon zest.

6 - Slowly add the dry ingredients to the sugar-egg mixture. Mix together until just incorporated. (Do not overmix!)

7 - Press the dough onto a floured surface to a thickness of about 1/4 inch. Cut out rounds with a diameter of about 1 1/2 inches (The lid to a McCormick spice shaker is the perfect size).

8 - Place rounds on a cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Bake for 10-15 minutes, until very lightly colored.

9 - Remove to a cooling rack and allow to cool.

10 - To construct the cookie, spread about a tablespoon of dulce de leche on the flat side of a cookie. Place another cookie on top, and push down gently. With your finger, rub the edges of the cookie with some dulce de leche and roll in the coconut (which sticks to the dulce de leche).

11 - Enjoy (with milk and a lot of napkins)!

Enmoladas (and Mole Leftovers)

As much as I love mole (which is a whole lot), I can only eat it over chicken and rice for so many days straight (about three, to be exact). Luckily, mole is quite versatile, working well with chicken, turkey, ribs, pork and even on hamburgers. I find that mole actually tastes best with mild white cheeses (queso fresco, queso de hebra or even mozzarella). As such, I can toss some macaroni elbows with some mole sauce and a sprinkle of parmesan cheese or cut open a baguette, spread mole on it and melt some cheese on top for a mole "french bread pizza." But neither of these are very Mexican nor are they the best (my favorite) options for leftover mole.

In Mexico, mole often finds a delicious place in empanadas or tamales (but those aren't re-purposed options, just other purposes). However, after the process of making mole, these two are more work than most would want. Besides, simpler is better, and nothing is simpler (or better) than enmoladas - lightly fried corn tortillas topped with a layer of mole and sprinkled with white cheese. These can be served for breakfast, lunch or dinner (or all three, once you're addicted like me) and with an egg cooked over easy (although I'm not sure if the egg is a Mexican thing or just a family thing, but sure is tasty).

Ingredients
1/2 kilo corn tortillas
1 1/2 cup mole sauce
1 1/2 cup white cheese (queso fresco is best and pretty available stateside)
vegetable oil, for frying
eggs, optional

Directions

1 - In a saute pan over a medium flame, heat the oil.

2 - Lightly fry one tortilla at a time, about 45 seconds on each side - they should get not get too crispy, but have a 'bend, not break' flexibility. Allow excess oil to drip from tortilla before plating.

3 - Immediately upon plating, spread a spoonful of mole over each tortilla and sprinkle with crumbled (or shredded) cheese (about the equivalent of one tablespoon).

4 - Once all tortillas are prepared, prepare the eggs, if desired.

(A recommended serving for lunch is about five enmoladas and one egg.)

Mole! (Meal)

(...continued from Mole! paste post)

So, after 2 hours (at least) of hard work, a hot kitchen, and splattering sauce, the mole is nearly ready to be finished and, subsequently, devoured. The paste was the easy part, with exact quantities; actually finishing the mole requires a lot of tasting and tweaking (so take the following quantities as 'more or less').

It really is worth it, though.

Ingredients
1 1/2 Tbsp. peanut butter
1 Tbsp. garlic powder
1 disc (90 g) Mexican chocolate (Abuelita)
3-4 cups chicken stock
1 tsp. salt
1 pre-cooked chicken, divided into pieces

Directions

1 - Have mole simmering in a large pan over low heat with a Tbsp. of heated oil (can be fresh or defrosted mole).

2 - Roughly chop the Mexican chocolate and add to the mole. Stir occasionally until all the chocolate melts.

3 - Add the peanut butter, garlic powder and salt. Stir until well-combined. Taste! and adjust salt/pepper/garlic/PB/chocolate, if necessary. Taste again!

4 - Add 3-4 cups of chicken stock (we really like to stretch our mole, so we usually add 4 cups, sometimes 5 - the poor man's mole). Simmer and stir continuously for another 5 minutes, until the stock is completely incorporated.

5 - Add previously cooked (boiled, roasted, grilled, whatever) chicken pieces to mole. Simmer another 15-20 minutes.

6 - Serve the chicken with some extra scoops of mole sauce on top of white rice and with warm corn tortillas on the side (to be used in the utensil capacity).

Mole! (Paste)

Mole (pronounced mo-lay) is one of those recipes that has about one thousand variations (and counting). There are the official types, like mole poblano, mole negro, mole verde, mole rojo, and then all the other moles in every shade of brown imaginable. Ingredients and their quantities vary in nearly every family to account for tastes and preference.

I am partial to this recipe (which falls under no general category of mole) because it is the first one I ever ate and one that I've mastered to make. This recipe comes from the family of my authentic Mexican source, and is loosely related to mole poblano. Naturally, I've made some changes to account for my own preferences (my major contribution being garlic) to make it recipe #1001.

Despite being so delicious (or maybe because it's so delicious), mole is a true hassle to make. There are a lot of ingredients to buy (not all readily available), too many steps to follow, and endless dishes (and various other surfaces) to wash afterwards. (Not to mention, whichever tupperware you store it in will be permanently stained a reddish-brown and become your new official mole container.) That being said, the process is worth the pain. This particular recipe makes two very large batches of mole, of which at least one should be instantly frozen, each batch producing the first mole meal and at least two sets of repurposed leftovers (see future post).

This recipe is for what we refer to as mole paste, which is what freezes so nicely. The next post will explain how to finish it up and make that first mole meal.

Ingredients
100 g chile pasilla
100 g chile mulato
1/2 large onion, roughly chopped
2 ripe plantains (with a blackening peel)
50 g raisins
1 1/2 cup animal crackers
1 tsp. cinnamon (or 1 stick of canela)
1/4 tsp. cloves
1 tsp. black pepper
Vegetable oil

Directions

1 - Remove seeds from the dried chiles. Bring a pot of water with the dried chiles to a boil. Reconstitute the chiles, boiling them over high heat for about 20 minutes.

2 - Remove chiles to a blender with enough of the boiling water to blend them into a smooth paste. Set aside.

3 - In a saute pan over low heat with oil, cook the onions until soft and translucent, about 10 minutes. Set aside.

4 - In the same pan, add more oil if needed and saute the plantain until soft, about 15 minutes. Set aside.

5 - In the same pan, add more oil if needed and saute the raisins and animal crackers until the raisins are plump and the crackers have taken some color (specifically, a light brown color), about 5 - 10 minutes.

6 - Add cinnamon and cloves. Saute one more minute. Set aside.

7 - In a large bowl, combine all sauteed, set-aside ingredients together. Add black pepper.

8 - In reasonable sized batches (you know the capacities of your blender), blend all of the ingredients. After each batch, pour mixture into a large saute pan over low heat, coated with about a tablespoon of preheated oil.

9 - Once all ingredients are blended, simmer the sauteed mixture and the chile paste for at least 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.

10 - At this point, the result is mole paste. Remove half of the mole to a ziploc bag and then to the freezer. Keep the other half simmering, and see the next post....

Tomatillos

If it walks like a duck and talks like a duck, then it's probably a duck...or possibly the duck's little green sister species. Such is the story of the tomatillo. Sometimes simply referred to as tomate verde (green tomato), the tomatillo shares much in common with the tomato. Physically, they're both round, smallish and have that smooth, thin skin. For culinary uses, both the tomatillo and the tomato are those weird fruits that function as vegetables and find themselves used mostly in savory sauces.

But, the tomatillo is not a tomato. Tomatillos grow within a papery husk and are covered in a sticky film (which easily washes off). Tomatillos are generally smaller than most breeds of tomatoes, and they remain green when ripe (hence, tomato verde). Unlike tomatoes, which are celebrated for their sweetness, tomatillos are bright and tart. Finally, tomatillos can't be used raw, so there will be no BLT(omatillo) sandwiches or Caprese salads with buffalo mozzarella and fresh tomatillos.

When buying tomatillos, look for ones that still have tight-fitting husks on (neither nudist tomatillos nor gangsta tomatillos who wear their husks baggy will do). Tomatillos are frequently boiled but can also be roasted or grilled. I have only ever seen them (and used them) in salsa verde recipes, but I am looking in to more possibilities for this little green guy. (So far, unsuccessfully - any suggestions?)

All-Purpose Salsa Verde

Since making a salsa verde only needs to meet one necessary requirement - being green (as one might suspect from the name), there are several variations of this salsa. Some are purely chile purées; others are bright with handfuls of cilantro and lime; and others still are creamy with the addition of avocado. Salsa verdes not only end up green, but, just short of using funky garlic and onions, all the ingredients used are also green (tomatillos, jalapeños, serranos, lime, cilantro, avocado...let your green imagination go wild!) This recipe, which is based on the table salsas of taquerías in Veracruz, is no exception to the strict use of nearly all things green.

Generally, salsas verdes tend to be more flavorful and complex than red salsas. However, besides that, this all-purpose salsa verde is just like my all-purpose red salsa. The ingredients are cheap and easy to find, the process is quick and simple, and it tastes fabulous on just about anything, although best on any masa-based antojito, like sopes, tacos, empanadas and quesadillas.

Ingredients
12 tomatillos
2 jalapeños
3 serranos
1/2 medium onion
2 cloves of garlic
1 avocado
1/2 tsp. salt
oil, for frying

Directions

1 - Husk and clean the tomatillos.

2 - Cut the ends off the tomatillos and the stems from the chiles.

3 - Boil the tomatillos, jalapeños and serranos until the chiles turn a pale green, about 25 minutes.

4 - Put tomatillos, chiles, onion, garlic, salt and avocado in a blender and puree.

5 - In a large pan over a low flame, heat the oil.

6 - Add the salsa and saute to cook the onion and garlic and marry the flavors, about 15 minutes.

7 - Allow to cool and enjoy!

Chilaquiles (Drowned Nachos)

With French toast, stuffing and bread pudding recipes, stale bread can always find a way to be repurposed. In Mexico, the waste-not, want-not culinary culture is much stronger (you should just see which parts of the chicken they eat - all of them!) As such, many Mexican recipes have been developed to use old corn tortillas. Tortilla rejuvenation usually comes through frying, and those crunchy, once useless tortillas become soup accompaniments, tostada bases and chilaqiles.

I find it useful to describe chilaquiles as drowned nachos - fried tortilla chips submerged into salsa and cooked together until the salsa is absorbed. While not difficult to make, the line between perfect chilaquiles and a soggy mess is very thin. Chilaquiles are then topped with the usual Mexican suspects - raw onion, crema and queso fresco.

Whether it's truly effective or not, chilaquiles are also a popular hangover cure - in case you plan on having a little too much Valentine's Day wine tonight!

Ingredients
1/2 kg. stale corn tortillas
2 cups all-purpose red salsa
1/2 onion, thinly sliced
250g Mexican crema
2 cups queso fresco, crumbled
vegetable oil, for frying

Directions

1 - Cut the tortillas into six (manageable sized chips).

2 - In a large deep pan, heat about two-inches of oil over a medium flame. Fry the chips in small batches until crisp, about five minutes each batch. Remove chips into a colander positioned over a bowl to drain excess oil.

3 - In a large pot over a low flame, heat half of the salsa. Add all of the chips and then the rest of the salsa.

4 - Cook together (do not stir!) until the chips absorb all of the salsa, about 10 minutes.

5 - To serve, scoop chilaquiles onto a plate and top with the raw onion slices, a few squirts of Mexican crema and crumbled queso fresco.

Suspiro de Limeña

While I would be more than happy with a full plate of tostadas or a two kilo bag of fresh jalapeños this upcoming Valentine's Day, I appreciate that maybe not all women share a similar sentiment. (Snobs.) Anyway, a suspiro de limeña should meet some demanding romantic expectations, and although this dessert isn't Mexican, the recipe contains two of Mexico's favorite sweet ingredients - sweetened condensed milk (La Lechera) and cinnamon.

Suspiro de limeña means "the sigh of the woman from Lima", and, as the name suggests, comes from the Peruvian capital. This dessert was named by the Limean poet, José Gálvez Barrenechea, who thought it was "as soft and sweet as a woman's sigh." Besides the romantic origins of its name, the custardy manjar blanco and light Italian merengue make for a sweet and decadent romantic treat.

Ingredients
1 (12-oz.) can evaporated milk
1 (14-oz.) can sweetened condensed milk (La Lechera)
1 cinnamon stick
4 eggs, separated
1 tsp. vanilla extract
pinch of salt
ground cinnamon, for garnish

Directions

Manjar Blanco
1 - Over a low flame, cook condensed milk, evaporated milk and cinnamon stick. Stir constantly until mixture thickens slightly. Remove the cinnamon stick.

2 - Temper the egg yolks into the milk mixture. (Add 3 or 4 spoonfuls of the hot milk to the egg yolks while constantly whisking. Then, return the egg/milk mixture to the pot of milk and stir constantly until smooth.)

3 - Stir in vanilla.

Italian Merengue
4 - Over a medium flame, cook the sugar in 1/4 cup of water until violent bubbles appear and then disappear, or to 120* C if you have a candy thermometer. (To be sure, put a spoonful of the cooked sugar into ice water. If it forms a ball, it's ready!)

5 - Whisk egg whites to soft peaks. Whisk in salt. Slowly add the cooked sugar and continue whisking until the mixture is cool and shiny.

6 - To assemble, fill a small glass or custard cup half full with the manjar blanco. Then pipe the Italian merengue on top (a ziploc bag with a corner cut out works just fine). Sprinkle the top with ground cinnamon. Enjoy!

Central de Abastos

I went to the most wonderful place on my day off on Monday (some Mexican holiday - Constitution Day), but it was no interesting museum or pleasant park. In fact, it was real dusty, the people there were pushy and the location is completely detached from Mexico's tourist neighborhoods, but as a self-proclaimed food lover - and cheapskate (although I prefer my mom's words 'sensible' and 'practical'), I had to make the foodie pilgrimage to Mexico's marketplace mecca, the Central de Abastos.

In two words, the Central de Abastos is an enormous market, but those two words don't begin to describe it. The Central reminds me both of a Costco and this flea market on Rte. 1 in Central Jersey that I used to go to so many years ago. The Central de Abastos could be their random love child - if that child was 327 hectares (like 327 football fields, bigger than many Mexican pueblos) and government-operated. An abasto is a provision, a supply, in general terms, just something you need - which is exactly what is for sale here. The Central de Abastos is whatever you need in bulk-quantity at rock bottom prices, sold by hundreds of individual vendors, and with some greasy places to eat scattered throughout. So, yeah, it's awesome (or, in two words, totally awesome).

My experience aside, I want to make clear my disclaimer - this is not a tourist attraction. The Central de Abastos is not easy to get to, or around once inside, or out of once done. I recommend it, but only if you know Mexico City well, its mass transportations system and general crowd precautions...and have lots of time.

*(There is no photography permitted within Central de Abastos. I actually got scolded by a cop for taking my camera out - because with everything that goes on in Mexico, this is a question of national security. Anyway, that's why both you and I have to settle for this lame, unappealing and unhelpful photo of the entrance.)*

Tostadas: the 7-layer Chip

I'm sure that anyone who was at a Super Bowl party over the weekend came into contact with a 7-layer dip. Beans, cheese, salsa, sour cream and other things that would add up to seven ingredients are layered on top of each other to create the ultimate chip-dipping experience. This is a wholly American invention, though, of course, it has its roots in an authentic Mexican dish.

Tostadas are the original source. A tostada combines beans, chickens and all of Mexico's most common and delicious garnishes, but contained entirely on one individual cacala (a fried corn tortilla...y'know, a chip). Upon arriving in Mexico, the tostada quickly became one of my favorite dishes, and, unlike many other Mexican foods, are not as widely available or known in the United States. Luckily, constructing tostadas is as easy as 1, 2, 3...(4, 5, 6, 7).

Ingredients
cacalas (whole fried corn tortillas)
refried beans
sliced onion
shredded chicken
salsa
shredded lettuce (or cabbage)
Mexican crema (a more liquid version of sour cream)
queso fresco

Directions

1 - Spread a layer of refried beans on a cacala.

2 - Top the beans with sliced raw onion.

3 - Cover with shredded chicken.

4 - Add salsa on top of the chicken.

5 - Put a giant handful of shredded lettuce on the salsa.

6 - Squirt on some artful ribbons of Mexican crema (use a squeezee bottle for super ease).

7 - Sprinkle the queso fresco on top. Enjoy!

Tortillas: Corn Vs. Flour

No one can deny that tortillas are at the heart of Mexican cuisine. If they're not actually an integral part of a dish (which they often are), tortillas are at least served on the side as "moppers" (think a slice of Italian bread after some saucy spaghetti meal). In my unfortunate experiences, they also replace forks and spoons - it's awful, almost as hard as chopsticks. There are two types of tortillas - corn and flour, and each has a particular place in Mexican cooking and society.

Corn tortillas are everywhere in Mexico; they are the one true tortilla. They are available fresh within one block of anywhere in Mexico, but packaged, factory-made ones can also be found both in Mexico and the United States. These are the economic option, pricing in at about 7 pesos per kilo (and like a dollar in Queens). Corn tortillas are those of authentic tacos, tostadas, enmoladas, quesadillas and garnachas. These are the "moppers" and the utensil replacements.

Flour tortillas, on the other hand, seem to be more popular stateside. They are sold only pre-packaged, factory-style on both sides of the Rio Grande (as far as I've seen - and, yes, I do look). Flour tortillas have a much longer shelf-life, but are also about three times more expensive. These are the tortillas of Taco Bell soft "tacos", burritos, quesadillas, tacos arabes and gringas (and not just because they're popular in the U.S. - it's the actual name of a Mexican street food).