Mexican

Before the development of canning, pickling was one of the most important preserving methods, along with salting, drying, and smoking. Particularly in warm countries, pickling was favored for the way it used acid to stop or retard the growth of bacteria. Some historians credit the Egyptians and Romans for developing this technique, which was brought into Spain and then to Mexico. Turkeys, especially ones raised naturally, have a rich, dense flesh and dark, meaty flavor that can stand up to—and are improved by—heartier, more complex flavors like this escabeche. My favorite garnish for each taco serving is a slim feathery frond—no more than two inches long—from the top of a small stalk of fennel. It looks pretty, has good flavor, and is delicious with this filling.

Native to North America, turkey has always been a celebratory bird (or at least it was celebrated by those who dined on it). Turkey (guajolote, in Spanish) was used for special feasts in pre-Columbian times and was a favorite food of the American Indians. In Mexico today, turkey in mole is still the preferred holiday dish. For Thanksgiving dinner one year at Coyote Café, we raised almost thirty wild turkeys (so much better than the modern domesticated turkey) on open ranchland so they were free to go anywhere and eat anything. The flavor of those turkeys was magnificent! This recipe is a tempting taste of what awaits any traveler to Oaxaca or Puebla, two of the great Mexican mole capitals. Commercially produced mole sauces are widely available throughout most major grocery store chains in the United States. We have used turkey breast for this recipe, but any part of the turkey will work. Note that the turkey must marinate overnight before cooking.

After Mexican cuisine, Thai is the one that I consider the most expressive. I find its freshness, sharp chile accents, and cool citrus flavors habit-forming, so much so that I travel to Thailand at least four times a year. One of the most distinctive of Thai flavors is that of kaffir lime. It resembles a large key lime with deep green, warty skin and leaves that have a marvelous, haunting perfume unmatched by those of any other lime or lemon. In this filling, I use the leaf to perfume the coconut sauce that cooks the shrimp. The fruit only grows in tropical climates and the lime itself is very hard to find here, but its fresh or frozen leaves are sold at all Asian markets that stock a lot of Thai ingredients. For this filling, the leaves should be minced very finely (remove the rib) or, preferably, ground to a fine powder in a spice mill, as its flavor is so strong that any large bits of leaf will dominate every mouthful.

Along Mexico’s Pacific coast, calamari is commonly prepared in homes and restaurants. That area of Mexico was particularly influenced by the so-called Philippine trade routes, where the Spanish ships crossed the Pacific to Acapulco to trade the goods of Asia with the colony. The cuisine has a definite fusion edge—you’ll see Asian ingredients like ginger used there, as well as dishes with rice. This recipe comes from the Jalisco region in southern Mexico. It is simpler and more traditional than versions originating from other port cities like Veracruz, the original Spanish port and the area with the most exposure to Spanish influences, including cuisine. The mint is a refreshing and unusual complement to the robust flavor of the blackened tomatoes. The pairing of basil and mint is not traditional, but is one that I like as I think the two herbs work well together.

This combination of sweet shrimp and smoky chipotle has been the absolute favorite at Coyote Café for more than twenty years. The pairing of chipotle and seafood is common throughout Mexico. My most memorable (and outrageous) version was at a party thrown by Patricia Quintana, the famous Mexican chef and writer, for her birthday in her home state of Veracruz. She invited fifty chefs, food writers, restaurant owners, and winemakers to a feast spread out on a river bank where huge pots filled with enormous amounts of crayfish cooked over open wood fires. I must have eaten 200 crayfish, which were cooked with chipotles, roasted garlic, grilled tomatoes, and served with warm tortillas on wood tables and beer trays—and almost disappeared behind a mountain of shells. The shrimp are best when marinated for 1 to 2 hours—any longer is not necessary. For a deliciously smoky flavor, grill the shrimp rather than sautéing them on the stove.

Achiote paste is a distinctive staple marinade of the Yucatán peninsula that infuses food with a brick-red hue, a part bitter–part acidic flavor, and an earthy intensity that lingers on the palate. It’s usually combined with the bitter orange of the Yucatán and the fierce, tropical habanero chile. This recipe has a distinctly Caribbean flair, evoking personal memories of the early market in Merida, capital of the Yucatan and famous for its beaches. There, you’ll find wonderful whole fish marinated in achiote paste and cooked on fires on the beach over coconut husks. Or chicken tamales with achiote paste wrapped in banana leaves steamed, then finished over an open fire. These tacos are traditionally served with black beans, rice, and a heaping side of fried plantains (see page 140). You can make your own pickled onions for the garnish: Slice red onions into thin half-moons, sprinkle with oregano, and marinate in the juice from a jar of pickled jalapeños for about 20 minutes.

Chorizo is usually made from pork, but you can find wonderful beef or chicken chorizo as well as an excellent vegetarian chorizo made from tofu. I’ve had a delicious green chorizo in Puebla that was a regional specialty composed of fresh green herbs and chiles blended with pork. The green marinade for the chicken plays wonderfully against the red chile of the chorizo. These hearty tacos are also great served with queso fresco or grated Cheddar or gouda cheese. Quail eggs fried sunny-side up makes a tasty garnish, if you like.

This recipe makes use of nopales cooked sous vide—under vacuum, a technique from the professional kitchen that I’ve modified here for home cooks (see also Nopales en Bolso with Vegetables Escabeche, page 28). Nopales—cactus leaves—have a wonderful texture and fresh flavor almost like fresh green beans or green squash. In Mexico, they grow wild everywhere, available for the picking. The most amazing place to see nopales is at the central market of Mexico City, one of the truly great markets of the world. Arranged in circles are huge, round burlap bags, five feet tall by four feet wide. Each bag holds hundreds of nopales, and workers handle sixty to seventy-five bags simultaneously. Women whittle away at mountains of nopales with long, sharp knives, trimming off their sharp spines in seconds while gossiping with their neighbors, stopping only to sell to shoppers. The enormous amount of nopales sold underscores how important they are to the daily diet.

The town of Puebla, a serene and peaceful oasis about one hour south from the congestion and commotion of Mexico City, is known for its charming inns that serve a rich array of traditional dishes. The most famous mole (the word is from a pre-Columbian language of Mexico and means a sauce that is blended with more than one chile or ingredient) originated in the kitchen of a large, wealthy Puebla convent with chocolate as its most acclaimed ingredient. But there are six other moles from the region. This filling, the green mole that uses all fresh herbs and fresh green chiles, is one of the simpler ones and the one that I usually eat for breakfast at the market—one huge bowl of chicken mole verde with fresh warm corn tortillas. Admittedly, it is a little time-consuming, but your effort will be rewarded with enough mole sauce to use for these tacos and many others. Leftover mole will keep in the refrigerator for at least a week, or you can freeze it for up to 3 months. This sauce makes a tasty complement to chicken, turkey, fish, and pork.

The Spanish word tinga means “unruly” or “messy.” But there is nothing messy about the wonderful flavors of this dish with its layers of smoky and sweet. The browned chicken has accents of balsamic vinegar, roasted sweet peppers, and chiles—a sort of Mexican chicken cacciatore. I consider it one of Mexican cuisine’s top ten classic dishes. Tinga tacos are a perennial favorite in northern New Mexico and can have other fillings beside chicken. In addition to tacos or burritos, this filling—really a homey soul-satisfying stew—can be served in a bowl over rice. It also makes a great bocadillo, a Mexican sandwich served on a square crispy roll. To reduce the heat level of this dish, decrease or leave out the chipotle puree.

The word charro refers to the original cowboys of the New World, the Mexican and Spanish men who handled the cattle on the large ranches of Mexico and California, and then Texas and the Southwest. The entire cow culture—the hats, saddles, ropes, boots—was brought here by Spanish explorers and settlers. These men lived a nomadic life that revolved around the search for the best seasonal pastures for their herds. Meals were always prepared over open campfires, giving food a smokiness that is forever associated with cowboy cooking. Beans were a common side dish, and the smoked salt in this recipe helps to replicate those robust and smoky flavors. The beans will hold for one week in the refrigerator, and their versatility makes them handy to have around.

The combination of sweet, lightly smoked corn and rich, earthy mushrooms is one of the great flavor marriages of Mexican food. In this filling, inspired by one of my favorite salsa recipes in The Great Salsa Book, the fresh corn kernels are dry-roasted to capture the sweet corn flavor and infuse them with an appetizing, smoky perfume. Dry roasting is one of the great culinary techniques that give Mexican cuisine its distinctiveness and meaning, and one easily mastered at home. Very simply and effectively, it intensifies and concentrates flavors and imparts the smoky, primordial quality that is characteristic of so many Mexican dishes. Beyond corn, the technique is also used for garlic, tomatoes, and onions, for fresh and dried chiles, and for seeds and nuts.

Huitlacoche is often referred to as “Mexican truffle” even though it is not related to truffles or mushrooms, but rather a fungus that grows naturally on corn in its wild state (spraying corn prevents the fungus). However, the flavor is pungent, earthy, and robust, all characteristics of true truffles. Highly prized in Mexico, fresh huitlacoche commands top prices when sold in the open markets there. Huitlacoche is almost impossible to find fresh in the United States. The federal government requires a special permit to grow it as a way to control infestation of the corn crop, as the spores are disseminated by air. It is usually available frozen and canned (see Sources, page 167). These tacos are hearty enough to be served by themselves, but also make a great side dish for a main course of beef.

By cooking the nopales—the flat paddles of the prickly pear cactus—at a controlled temperature in a sturdy self-sealing plastic bag (en bolso), we are able to infuse flavors slowly into the nopales and preserve a firmer texture and bright green color. The process is something like the restaurant technique sous vide (French for “under vacuum”), where food is vacuum packed, then cooked in a water bath to ensure even heat. You can’t squeeze out all the air from a self-sealing plastic bag as with true sous vide, but this home adaptation still works well. You can find fresh nopales with spines removed at Hispanic markets, chain supermarkets located in Hispanic communities, or some specialty produce stores. The briny tartness of the vegetable escabeche (pickled vegetables) is balanced by the creaminess of the queso fresco, a slightly salty Mexican cheese that is similar in taste and texture to feta.

To make tortillas with masa harina, use packaged masa harina. Two of the most widely available brands are Maseca (be sure to buy the type for tortillas) and Quaker Oats. One of my favorites is an all-natural, stone-ground masa harina made by Bob’s Red Mill, a small Oregon company that specializes in whole grain products. You can find it at Whole Foods markets, natural food stores, well-stocked specialty markets, supermarkets, and online. Purchase masa harina from a supermarket with a high turnover, as it will go rancid over time. Always taste masa harina before you use it to be sure it is still fresh. It does not store well and goes off much faster than flour. It’s best to store masa harina in the refrigerator or freezer, where it holds for 2 to 3 months. It will also keep in your pantry if sealed airtight for about 2 months. Making the dough is easiest in a heavy-duty mixer, but you can also mix it by hand in a bowl with a wooden spatula.

Unlike other chicken soups that begin with water, this Mexican version starts with chicken stock; the resulting broth is richer and more complex than for basic chicken soup (page 43), since stock will impart flavor to (and be fortified by) the chicken. To make the soup, a whole chicken is simmered in chicken stock, which is then strained and combined with a fiery puree of dried chiles, charred tomatoes, and sautéed onion and garlic. Before being pureed, the chiles are toasted in a dry skillet to enhance their smokiness, then soaked in water to soften, a process that is widely used in Mexican cooking as a building block for many types of dishes (this is comparable to the way spices are toasted in Indian cooking as a flavor-building component for masalas and curry pastes). What distinguishes tortilla soup is the way it is served, since the garnishes are essential to the overall flavor; plus, they are incorporated at the table—not in the kitchen—so that each guest has a hand in creating and customizing the final dish. The garnishes suggested below are traditional and offer a nice balance of taste and texture, but sliced jalapeños (seeded for less heat) or radishes, diced fresh tomatoes, or other types of cheese (such as queso fresco or queso blanco) are also authentic, as is a dollop of crema (Mexican sour cream) or sour cream.

The silky texture of this puréed sauce belies the kick of its chipotle and cascabel peppers, which are similar in heat to cayenne. Serve it with chips or crudités.

Serve with grilled pork or fish, such as red snapper or striped bass.