Posole or Pozole? A Rose By Any Other Name

Recently on Twitter, the very talented Pati Jinich wrote that she was irked by the word posole. “It is Pozole with a Z!!!! Posole is nothing, nada!! Posole equals not Pozole. Sorry and good night.”, she wrote. Now I admire Patti a lot but I think she got this one wrong, along with many of her enthusiastic followers who were quick to throw posole under the bus.

My response was: “Posole is an old tradition from the US Southwest. It refers to the grain and the final dish. It’s hundreds of years old and to deny this is to deny how indigenous cultures refused to stagnate. ”

I understand that good Mexican food is under siege and its advocates have to stand their ground. How many chefs are discovering tacos and are eager to share their new love (and “interesting” new spins) on food that many of us discovered long ago? The talented Ina Garten created a dish that might be delicious and it might have corn in it, but it’s not pozole by anyone’s standards other than hers. Taco Bell created a snack called a chalupa and it has nothing to do with the well-established Poblano treat that has been called a chalupa for generations. As writer Javier Cabral writes, “Adding black beans and lime juice to things do not automatically make it Mexican.”

I was once in the lovely town of San Miguel de Allende with a group of fellow gringo tourists. San Miguel is a very unusual town with an exceptionally large ex-pat US population. Or should I say, US immigrant population? Whatever it is, whether you like SMA or not, it’s not very typical. One woman insisted that a bowl of guacamole and chips was a proper way to start a meal in Mexico. I suggested that she may want to start her meal this way, but it’s not all the common, and in fact, I’d never observed Mexicans doing this. She asked the waiter if she could order this and he, of course, brought out a big bowl of chips and guacamole and she turned to me and said, “See! They do this here.” I had to bite my tongue.

I have to watch my own behavior, as well. Clearly, I am obsessed with Mexican food and culture and even though I travel there often, I am aware of my own tourist status and try to avoid speaking in absolutes. I would love to be considered someone who is helping the situation more than hurting it. I don’t want to be another attack on traditional Mexican culture that will need to be defended by someone who knows more.

With all of this, I understand being irked by posole. But this isn’t like a chalupa. This tradition from the American southwest has been around for generations and has morphed into its own thing, including taking freshly cooked nixtamal and drying it for use later, a very clever technique not used by the Mexicans who came up with the very clever technique of making nixtamal. And I would argue even further that this product is superior to the canned hominy most everyone uses instead of making fresh nixtamal. If you want to start a cause, it should be against canned hominy, which has almost no flavor and provides a texture not unlike chicken cartilage.

In New Mexico, posole refers to both the grain and the final dish. It’s a much more casual ingredient than in Mexico. A bowl of posole in a chile sauce is a common side dish. Huntley Dent says in his seminal book, The Feast of Santa Fe, that the difference between everyday posole and feast-day posole is the amount of pork. Everyday posole is a thing. It’s not Mexican but it’s from the same roots and I think it should be embraced as an example of indigenous cultures adapting, creating, and celebrating nixtamal.

When I announced that I was writing a book on pozole, one commenter scolded me for adding pork and told me I should stick to pozole’s pre-colonial roots. Well, if I were to follow her advice, I’d have had to use the flesh of my captured soldiers for protein and I’m just not up for that. Corn and nixtamal have made their way far further north and south than their Mesoamerican origins. It’s bound to change and watching the journey is part of the fun.

Did I mention my new book? Never one to pass up an opportunity when it’s knocking, my next book, The Rancho Gordo Pozole Book, comes out this November.

Breakfast of Champions: Eggs in Green Salsa with Epazote

I’ve been in Mexico working on a project and this dish stood out. Scrambled eggs cooked separately and then drowned in tomatillo salsa, topped with a handful of chopped epazote.

I love epazote. You might know how well it works with beans, black beans in particular, but it’s also terrific in a quesadilla. It likes cheese a lot. Mushrooms and octopus, too. It turns out eggs are also a natural partner.

Simple and perfect. Don’t forget the tortillas.

Rant: Let’s Go Mexican Countries!

A few years ago, a friend’s teacher daughter described a situation where her students were intensely debating whether they could call people Mexicans.

“You can’t call them that!”

The teacher was confused, as she should have been. But really, Mexican for some of them was a dirty word. The probably heard the phrase, “those damned Mexicans!” and in case there’s any doubt, that’s not good.

Fox News recently had a graphic declaring that Trump had cut aid to “3 Mexican countries.” For the record, Mexico has a group of states within its borders, not countries. I think the subtext of this is Poor Brown People. Racists think of Poor Brown People, and they think of Mexico and other Latin American countries. It’s all one aid-sucking mass, from their point of view. I believe this was slip up more than an actual mistake.

Fox News doesn’t have an exclusive on laziness or closet racism. World of Wonder, the production company that does some great shows like RuPauls’s Drag Race published a tribute to Marlon Brando and they declared: His activism caused widespread boycotting of Brando’s films. He was also outraged by U.S. foreign policy, particularly covert military and CIA operations in several of the Mexican countries.

For the record, again, there is just one country called Mexico. Tell as many people as you can. We are terrible neighbors and we should be ashamed.

Beans As Part of the Columbian Exchange

Part of the fun of being featured in The New Yorker was hearing from people all over the world and their stories about beans and/or Mexico. One of the most surprising contacts was the wife of Alfred W. Crosby, Jr, a professor and historian from California who wrote the seminal book, The Columbian Exchange: Biological and Cultural Consequences of 1492. (Greenwood Press, 1972) It’s a fascinating book and of course I went straight to the index to look up “beans” when I got my copy.

 

The bean was-third of the alimentary trinity that supported Meso-American civilization when the Spaniard arrived–the other two members being maize and squash–and plays a role of similar, if not equal, importance in the diets of millions throughout the world today. The bean family contains over one thousand species–some New, some Old World in origin–and since most writers and statisticians have been satisfied that “beans is beans,” it is difficult to make precise statements of the importance of American beans. The most important single kind of bean is the eastern hemisphere’s soybean, but the lima, sieva, Rangoon, Madagascar, butter, Burma, pole curry, kidney, French, navy, haricot, snap. String, common, and frijole bean are all American. Often called the “poor man’s meat,” American beans are especially rich in protein, as well as in oils and carbohydrates.

When the European arrived in America, the American beans already existed in varieties suitable to almost every climate, and they were so obviously superior to many Old World pulses that they quickly spread in Europe, Africa and Asia. Because they have often been a private garden crop rather than a field crop, they have escaped the official censuses; when they are listed in censuses, they are often grouped under the general heading “Pulses” with number of other kinds of beans. Their importance defies exact statistical description, but the importance is still there. Any world traveler will tell you that the visitor-from-far-away may be treated to gourmet delights for his first few meals in a strange new country, but eventually he will find himself confronted–in Norway, Siberia, Dahomey, and Australia–with a plate of beans –American beans.

I also love 1491 by Charless Mann and America’s First Cuisines by Sophie Coe.

The Burden of Fame: I Kind of Like It!

Fame is like caviar, you know – it’s good to have caviar but not when you have it at every meal.
-Marilyn Monroe

I’d be willing to try having caviar with every meal.

It’s not every day that there’s a New Yorker profile about you and your company. I loved it, but of course with an article that long and a subject as personal as beans, there are a few problems. But they’re insignificant and I forever will be grateful for this passage:

Watching Sando and Lupe cook, I realized what I’d been doing wrong. I’d been trying so hard to make my family love beans that my dishes had got more and more complicated, like the ones in Oklahoma. I’d added bacon, brown sugar, kielbasa, and Southern ham, whole heads of garlic and bunches of sage; I’d made minestrone, pasta e fagioli, and Brazilian feijoada. Good recipes, but poor psychology. Instead of showcasing the beans, I’d camouflaged them, turned them into a suspect food—an element to be rooted out, like the spinach that parents hide in pizza. “I hate recipes,” Sando said. “I always tell people to cook beans simply, and they always say, ‘Oh, I did. I just used a ham hock and chicken stock.’ Well, in that case you might as well use commercial pintos.”

I have been stressing this from the day I started. I know many folks want more recipes, but I suggest you first start with a bowl of perfectly cooked, perfectly seasoned beans and have them with everything: rice, a steak, a stir fry, a burger- whatever makes you happy. Beans are the perfect side dish and heirlooms deserve their moment in the spotlight as the star, not just another ingredient.

I also love this quote from me, which I don’t remember saying but it’s true!

Sando is a rather sheepish addition to that history. He’s uneasy about import regulations, fretful of cultural appropriation, and well aware of his fumbling grasp of Mexican custom. “I’m not the Indiana Jones of beans,” he told me. “I’m the Don Quixote.”

In the end, despite all the personal information about me, it’s about heirloom beans, and that’s what it should be. I only wish somehow that my joy of being in Mexico was conveyed. The feeling of carnitas fat running down your chin, the small freeze your body feels as you take that first sip of mezcal, the thrill of having your Mexican goddaughter sit on your lap and explain all the dinosaurs to you as she drips paletas juice on your guayabera, looking at a huge plate of breakfast thinking you could never in a million years and then finish every drop by sopping it up with a well-made tortilla, climbing pyramids and archaeological sites mostly in silence and best of all, sitting in the cab of Gabriel and Yunuen’s truck and planning and dreaming and loving that two of my best friends are from this magical place and I’m the fucking luckiest guy in the world. This didn’t make it into the article, and perhaps I don’t express this easily, but this is exactly why I keep my passport renewed and watch the airfares to Mexico City.

People are quick to tell me that I don’t really look like a bean. No worries. I am too old to have this kind of vanity and it clearly was poetic, not literal. Again, I think it’s a great article and Burkhard is a great writer and I was happy to share a slice of my life with him and the rest of the world.

And as if this all weren’t wonderful enough, I’ve discovered that Puddles Pity Party is a Bean Person. Applause. Slow curtain. The end.

You can read the complete article here.

 

Guisado de Lupe: A Delicious Tomato Surprise That Will Make You Flip

In Hidalgo, a meal with my pal Lupe is essential. She is a great cook. I would almost describe her cooking as colonial. She prefers good olive oil to manteca (lard) and while she’s fiercely patriotic and loves all aspects of her Mexican culture, there’s a European sensibility to a lot of her dishes.

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When we were filming the article that featured the Rancho Gordo-Xoxoc Project for Sunset Magazine last year, Lupe made this dish and it’s forever haunted me. She told me it was from Michoacan and called Minquiche. I’ve done some research and there are similar elements but I think Lupe’s dish has morphed into something even more delicious than the original. If you are an expert on the cuisine of Michoacan and want to set me straight, it would be my pleasure.

Lupe in the kitchen

My notes are rough.

Roasted tomatoes. Cazuela. Canela. Harina. Rajas. 15 minutes. Crema. Queso. 

Coming home, I was just as confused as you might be.

So, I sauteed onions and garlic in olive oil. When soft, I added some canned roma tomatoes and their sauce and a stick of our canela. You should only use canela, not commodity cinnamon. It’s a different bark and the canela has a warm, woodsy flavor while the cinnamon is harsh and astringent. I let this cook and reduce a bit. Then I added some previously roasted, peeled and chopped Poblano chiles. After seasoning with salt, I added some fresh mozzarella cheese and a big happy dollop of creme fraiche. I removed the canela stick and being cheap, I gave it a quick rinse and will use it for something else in the future.

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I believe Lupe fried the flour in the oil to make a roux but I don’t think this is needed at all so I skipped this step. Long, slow cooking in a wide pot, like a cazuela (or even a Windsor pot) encourages evaporation and tastes better than a flour-thickened sauce.

This was incredible. Great with tortillas or rice and even though it doesn’t sound like a main course, a bowl on its own was just perfect.

Road Trip: Convento de los Los Santos Reyes

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For me, there’s little better than a road trip in Mexico. My friend Gabriel estimated that over nine years we’ve traveled approximately 50,00 kilometers (about 32,000 miles) together. I’m glad he likes to drive! I’m also thankful we all like the same music and have the same hunger for Mexican food. On the way to the Huasteca of Hidalgo, we stopped at Convento de los Los Santos Reyes in a pueblo called Metztitlan in the sierra. This is exactly the kind of thing I love to do, especially when the site is deserted and we are free to run and around and explore.

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Northern California has many fine attributes but we suffer from very boring skies. As a native, I am always mesmerized the clouds and blue heavens that we don’t enjoy. Hidalgo is big beautiful and dramatic. The silence was almost as beautiful as the grounds. I loved it.

Post Vacation Breakfast: Things Could Be Worse

My favorite sentence is, I just got back from Mexico.

I would like to write it more often!

The down side is coming home to an empty refrigerator. This morning, after pots of French Roast coffee (the Mexicans do many things well but good coffee is mostly hidden), I made brown rice, garbanzo beans and a salsa from the new chiles I bought on my trip. They’re oak-roasted heirloom chipotles from the Huasteca of Hidalgo. They are incredible and we were going try and import them but the FDA requirements are so tough that we had to pass. It’s a pity, but such is life.

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The salsa was made by toasting three chiles, 2 slabs of onion and 2 garlic cloves (in their skins) on a hot comal. The chiles were then soaked in hot water for about 15 minutes and then I blended this all (without the skins) with 4 canned plum tomatoes and some Oregano Indio.

Chipotle rayado

Here’s a portrait of the chiles, just to make you weep a little.

On the Road: Veracruz and Why It’s Possibly My Favorite Spot on Earth

Delicious, beautiful, exotic. Did I say delicious? I meant to.
I don’t have favorites but if you were to invite me to Veracruz I would only hesitate for a few seconds. I think it might be Mexico’s most beautiful state. It runs along the coast and it feels Mexican but it’s like nowhere else in the country.

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Papantla smells of vanilla and heat. It’s a little off putting at first but the best thing to do is just roll with it. For me, breakfast with salsa macha means the rest of the day will be mild in comparison. It’s a humbling sauce and I’ve had luck eating it with beans, white one in particular.

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Huevos Enzopilotados are scrambled eggs with black beans. The salsa macha completes the dish.

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Near by are the ruins of El Tajin. We laughed at how hot it was. The heat and humidity were so intense it was funny. Or at least it is now. My friends Yunuen and Gabriel and I love to climb and discover Mexican archaeological sites and this is one of the best.

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Heading south along the coast are many beach towns. Not so chic but the beaches are fine and good food and music are never far off.

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We do actually work on these trips as part of the Rancho Gordo-Xoxoc Project. In Veracruz is Casa Stivalet and they produce the magnificent banana vinegar we sell.

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Leaving the coast, the town of Jalapa is worth a two day visit. The museum is one of the best and of course there are particular dishes to the region.

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Another time we’ll have to discuss the city of Veracruz.