Latin American

Taquitos, also known as flautas where I grew up, are corn tortillas that are stuffed, rolled, and fried. Shredded chicken or beef is the traditional filling, but here I use mushrooms and pair them with a tart tomatillo salsa for a great vegetarian dish.

Cuitlacoche is a fungus that makes corn kernels swell to ten times their normal size, turning them an inky black color. Its smoky-sweet flavor is a cross between corn and mushroom. I grew up eating cuitlacoche stuffed in a quesadilla or in a squash blossom. It’s a delicious, earthy addition to everything from quesadillas to empanadas. If you can’t find canned cuitlacoche in your local Latin market, substitute sautéed wild mushrooms for an equally delicious result.

This is my version of the famous Baja taco gobernador, which is a shrimp-stuffed quesadilla. The marlin adds a distinctive smoked flavor that makes this a very special kind of quesadilla. If you must substitute, you can use canned tuna—just make sure it is well drained, and cook the filling an additional 4 minutes to allow the moisture from the tuna to evaporate.

For many years a professional cook who specialized in seafood dishes prepared the meals at my parents’ house. Pedro Rocha would go to the fish market with my dad, bring home whatever had been caught that day, and turn it into an incredible meal for the family or for my father’s friends (who often came just for the food). Many of my seafood dishes are inspired by or derived from dishes Pedro taught me to make. This is one of them, and it’s always a favorite with my friends. As soon as we figure out how to get Pedro a passport, we’re opening a fish restaurant in the United States!

This is a simple, refreshing dish that perfectly represents the current trend in Baja-Mediterranean cuisine: the fusion of local ingredients and cooking techniques with European (mostly Mediterranean) ingredients, with an occasional Asian ingredient showing up in the mix. Variations of this dish pop up in restaurants all around Mexico, some adding spicy avocado dressing or fresh orange juice to the mix. I like to keep it simple to let the fresh taste of the ingredients shine through.

I went to a restaurant opening in Los Angeles where they served a trio of ceviches made with parboiled seafood. No! Ceviche should always be made using raw ultra-fresh, or “sushi-grade,” fish. In this recipe I use tilapia, but feel free to substitute whatever your local fishmonger recommends that day. The citrus marinade “cooks” the fish without heat. Traditional ceviche is left to marinate for up to 3 hours, but in this recipe you’ll have fresh, delicious ceviche in 15 minutes. As my abuelo always said, “Don’t worry, the lime kills everything.” For a more traditional ceviche, omit the clam-tomato juice and the hot sauce, which add a sour and spicy kick.

Fresh rosemary grows rampant in my backyard, which is only part of the reason these skewers top my list of favorite appetizers. Rosemary adds smoky flavor and a decorative flourish to a simple shrimp starter. Check the USDA plant hardiness zones to see which herbs thrive in your area. Fresh herbs make a huge difference in any dish, and you’ll save money by growing them at home instead of buying them. The Mediterranean rosemary pairs nicely with the smoky chipotle and fresh cilantro.

Chimichurri is the A1 sauce of Argentina, and no self-respecting steak there would be served without a dose of this herby green sauce. But chimichurri also has a lot in common with an Italian salsa verde, which gave me the idea to pair it with the more delicate combo of chicken and shrimp. I add oregano for a deep earthiness, and crunchy bites of pancetta put it over the top; you’ll want to serve this sauce over everything from broiled fish fillets to sliced tomatoes or even crostini.

This recipe is basic make it a few times and you’ll find ways to vary it to perfectly suit your tastes.

This is what most Americans are talking about when they say salsa. You can make it hot or not, as you like; it’s a good use for less-than-perfect tomatoes and an excellent sauce–side dish accompaniment for anything grilled, particularly seafood.

Chimichurri is a simple Argentinean steak sauce made almost entirely from parsley, with huge amounts of chopped garlic and red pepper. In spirit, it’s not unlike pesto, but because everything is hand-chopped rather than ground or mashed, it has a bit more chew to it. And its powerful ingredients set it apart, making it the perfect complement for mild-tasting but meaty tenderloin.

In seviche, the scallops are “cooked” by the acidity of the citrus.

The unusual thing about many Mexican fruit drinks is that the seeds are included; they’re blended, so you don’t realize this until you watch them being made, but this is the reason for their wonderfully intense flavors. This procedure works well for cantaloupe, honeydew, watermelon, or other melon.

Horchata (which can be used to describe any sweet drink, but has come to mean, by default, this one) is sold all over Mexico (and throughout southern California). It’s an addictive, deliciously creamy drink that contains no dairy but is based on ground rice. Traditionally it’s made in a mortar and pestle; you’ll be glad you live in the age of blenders.

Make sure you don’t skip the last part of this classic—the wonderful frothiness is one of the two things that make Mexican hot chocolate special (the cinnamon is the other). For a great dessert, serve this with Churros (page 655). The chocolate sold in Mexican stores for hot chocolate already contains cinnamon and sugar, so you can just melt it with some milk and beat until frothy. You can actually make it with water if you like, and it isn’t half bad.

Make this mysterious and delicious herbal iced tea in advance, because it’s best cold. You can buy dried hibiscus (known as jamaica) flowers at almost any Mexican market.

The influx of great-quality tequilas into this country over the last decade has gently nudged my concept of what a margarita should be ever further away from the sweet blender drinks that bars and American Mexican restaurants pass off as “margaritas.” These days a long pour of good tequila, a dash of orange liqueur, and a quarter of a lime over ice is how I make them. The following recipe has a little more padding, but is still a vehicle for the flavor of tequila, so I advise buying the best you can (it should be 100 percent agave). If the salt-rimmed glass doesn’t appeal to you (or a guest), omit the first step.

One of the classic moles of Oaxaca, now popular throughout Mexico. Though no mole is simple, this is among the easiest and most straightforward, something you can actually consider making on a weeknight (especially if you’re an experienced cook and can brown the chicken and make the sauce at the same time). To be entirely authentic—or, at least, more authentic, since true authenticity is never really possible north of the border—you should roast most of the sauce ingredients before combining them in the skillet. Toast the almonds in a dry skillet, shaking occasionally, until fragrant; heat the peeled garlic in a dry skillet until lightly browned; roast the onions and tomatoes in a hot oven until blistered; and so on, right down to toasting and grinding fresh whole spices. (In fact, old-style cooks brown unblanched almonds and then peel them.) All of this does make a difference, and if you have the time, please try it. Believe me, though, the mole will be sensational without these steps. If you’ve never cooked with lard, have no fear: It has less saturated fat than butter and is still sold in virtually every supermarket. It remains a wonderful cooking fat. Serve with rice or Arroz a la Mexicana (page 517).

There are as many green sauces in the world as there are red ones, and this is one of my favorites. Fresh tomatillos are best for this dish, and those, like pepitas (pumpkin seeds) are increasingly easy to find. Though it’s probably at its best with Arroz a la Mexicana (page 517), you can serve this with almost any rice dish.

If you have had only the fast-food variety of tacos or made them using a mix, these will come as a revelation, yet they’re quite easy to make. Top them with sour cream, any salsa (pages 610–612), Guacamole (page 22), or a combination; they are also delicious on their own. There is a wealth of variations here; if you’re not interested in frying, see the soft taco version. The chicken can be cooked by any method you like; poaching with aromatic vegetables and spices will work, along with producing a decent stock.