The Mija Chronicles

Mexican food and culture, on both sides of the border

Cooking a homemade Oaxacan meal, metate and all, with Reyna Mendoza

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The ingredients to make a stellar mole

We arrived at Reyna’s house with two baskets full of produce. She unlocked the heavy gated entrance and we stepped through the doorway. In front of us was an open, tranquil courtyard with a dirt floor. This is where we’d cook and eat.

The kitchen lay just beyond the herb garden. Cooking utensils hung on the walls, and a bright red piece of oilcloth (called “charomesa” in Spanish) was draped on a blue work table. She had spatulas, metates, molinillos, clay ollas and a gargantuan tortilla press. At the edge of the kitchen sat a wood-fired stove, crowned with two clay comales.

This tortilla press weighs a ton -- it's the secret to a thin tlayuda.

On the other side of the kitchen, hundreds of corn cobs dried and crinkled under the sun. Across from them, rows of fat squash sunbathed, too, some with hunter-green mottled skins. Reyna’s dad grows the squash and the corn on a farm not too far from her house.

Corn cobs drying in the sun. They'll use the corn for tamales and tortillas, among other things.

I felt like Julia Child visiting the south of France for the first time. The splendor of the land! The fecundity! I lingered around the squash and asked Reyna: “Are any of these for sale?” She said after class I could pick out a few I liked.

We unloaded our provisions in the kitchen and she set about preparing chocolate to go with our sweet bread. I tried to pay attention, but I was overwhelmed by my new environment. I felt very lucky to be there. Even the plate of pan dulce looked like it came from a dream.

The crunchy, pretzel-shaped piece ended up being my favorite.



There was a lot to do. On our menu was zeguesa, a tomato broth with chicken and cracked, chunky bits of ground corn; enchiladas de mole con pollo; guacamole, and tomatillo salsa with Oaxacan chile pasilla. It had the smoky smell and berry-colored skin of a chile mora.

We started by cooking the chicken in a pot of water with onion and garlic. Then Reyna heated the comal and we began toasting the mole ingredients. We’d toast every ingredient, even the thyme. (“Es el gran secreto del mole,” Reyna said. Translation: It’s the great secret of mole.)

First up were the chiles, which we’d only heat lightly, so they were warm and aromatic. Reyna tossed them around with a thin, smooth stick so they wouldn’t burn.

We toasted the garlic, onions, spices and even the raisins. Last we toasted the corn for the zeguesa, which we’d eventually grind on the metate.

The kernels crackled and snapped, and some burst into puffy bits of popcorn. Reyna said it was a good sign — her mother always told her that once the corn turns into popcorn, you’ve got “un buen tostadito.” (A good little toast.)

Soon enough, it was time to grind. Just like in my cooking class on Thursday nights, we started with the onions, garlic and spices, which weren’t hard. But then came the chiles, which we’d soaked in water after their brief turn on the comal. They required a bit more elbow grease.

You couldn’t really tell from watching Reyna, though — her hands were like human blenders. She’d place a small mound of the chile mixture at the top of the metate and scrape a bit from the pile at a time, grinding downward until a paste formed. The very same mole paste I’ve seen in markets all over Mexico City, but here we were, on our knees, making it ourselves. Or rather, here Reyna was.

I didn’t let her do all the work. I got on my knees and ground, too, until my wrists hurt and my temples were sweaty. But I couldn’t match even half of her strength and technique. I ended up grinding most of the corn, but she finished it or else we would’ve been there all day.

The mole paste forms under Reyna's expert hands.

This is the ideal corn texture for zeguesa. You want something coarse, kind of like thick grits.

It was fun to use her metates, because they felt so much different than the one I had at cooking school. It was almost like putting my foot into a favorite shoe — both of them had specific indentations and grooves worn down over years of grinding. Reyna has 14 metates at her house, by the way, including those owned by her mother.

After all the grinding, the rest of the food wasn’t hard to prepare. We tossed the ground corn into a pot of chicken broth and added spices, tomato and hoja santa for the zeguesa. Reyna blended and strained the mole ingredients, and we then we simmered it in a pan with a little oil.

Then, finally, it was time to eat. Eating outside in the shade of a few nearby trees, I wanted to pinch myself.

The zeguesa

Homemade enchiladas de mole

After lunch, I bought two squash to take home.

If you’re interested in taking a cooking class with Reyna Mendoza, visit her website, El Sabor Zapoteco. Please note that she doesn’t give the classes in English, but she does work with groups who have a translator.

Reader Interactions

Comments

  2. Lesley, thanks for the lovely description. I have been to Reyna’s house several times accompanied by her brother Tito and sister-in-law Alejandrina, yet I had no idea Reyna was teaching cooking classes at #30 Av. Benito Juarez! I am bringing a group to Teotitlan del Valle in early March for a women’s creative writing and yoga retreat and can’t wait to offer a cooking class with Reyna as an optional activity. Thank you for sharing your discovery. She was right under my nose!

  4. Hi Lesley

    Me encanta el mole. Podrias darme la lista de ingredientes del mole de Reyna?

    Muchas gracias por tener muchas recetas y fotografias. Es ideal poder ver como cada platillo tiene un toque tradicional.

    Saludos,
    Susana

    • Hola Susana: De nada, me alegro que lo hayas gustado. Estoy checando con Reyna a ver si podría compartir los ingredientes en el blog. Te aviso en cuanto me responde. Saludos!

  5. What a great post! The photos and your description almost made me feel like I was back in México. I am definitely wanting some of that hand ground mole and salsa right now!

    • Gracias, Sra. Bilbro. I’m wanting the mole and salsa right now, too. In fact writing the most made me think: you know, that wasn’t so hard… I should do it again in a few weekends. With homemade corn tortillas! (And a blender instead of a metate.)

  7. Oh my goodness, this takes me back to the months I studied (code for eating) in Oaxaca. I could TASTE the mole, just looking at your photos. What a wonderful opportunity and experience to cook with Reyna.

  8. Hi Lesley,

    I am a Canadian living in Teotitlan and have begun working with Reyna as a translator for classes when needed. I’ve lived here for over three years and love to speckle the class with a bit of social information about life in the village as well. It’s a lot of fun, and the food is always great!

    Laura

  11. I really enjoyed your blog about Reyna, a friend of mine. I spend a good deal of time in Teotitlan, often staying at Tito and Ale’s house. I posted this part of your blog on my blog “Coyote Woman’s Journal” and managed to send it out too via email. Reyna made me some mole negro to bring back to the US. I once tried out using a mano and metate in Teo with a different friend many years ago. The metates at Reyna’s family’s house are needed for fiestas like weddings etc. when hundreds are fed with handmade tlayudas.

    • Hi Mitzi: Thanks for commenting — I’m honored that you liked the post enough to put it on your own blog. Reyna’s class was such a special experience for me. I hope to take another class with her again, next time I’m back in Oaxaca.

  12. Hi Lesley,

    Any chance you could tell me how I might be able to get my hands on a tortilla press like the one you pictured? If not, even what they are called specifically there? I realize they are heavy but would pay to have one if I could only find a seller! Any thoughts? Thank you!

    • Hi Rebekah: I’ve seen those heavy presses at Mercado Merced in Mexico City. They’re located in the area with the kitchen equipment. I’m not sure if they have a technical name, but I would ask for “una prensa de tortillas, el tipo que pesa mucho y está hecha de metal.” 🙂 Any person who’s selling tortilla presses should know what you’re talking about. The ones I saw were blue as well, so you could even ask for a prensa azul. Do you live in the States or Mexico?

      • Hi Lesley,
        Wonderful article!! Thank you for your great site. Same question about the press? I live in the states, (TX). Is ordering one, out of the question I suppose?

        • Hi Thomas: I haven’t seen the big blue presses available for order anywhere. To my knowledge the only thing you can do is go to Mexico and lug it back. 🙁 Sorry if that isn’t helpful!

          • Hi Lesley,

            Haha! Quite possibly! In the meantime I believe I’ll try this and report back to you and your readers in a week or so on whether or not it has the goods:

            http://www.ebay.com/itm/151524879178

            By the way, it is very difficult for the average guy to peruse your site. My word! I have never seen so much delicious looking food in my life!! Such freshness, variety, fantastic pictures, and info. I will come back often for your features and recipes. All the best, Lesley!