Archives for October 2013

Got a Mexican cheese question? Ask Carlos.

October 30, 2013 by Lesley Tellez

Homemade Mexican cheeses in Santiago Tianguistenco, Estado de México. (Photo snapped by yours truly.)

Now that I’m back in the States, I’ve found myself occasionally wondering where to find the best varieties of Mexican cheese, or which American cheeses might have Mexican properties.

Just a few weeks ago I emailed Carlos Yescas to answer my questions — he’s a Mexican cheese expert whom I interviewed on this blog last year, and we’ve become friends. He’s also written a new book in Spanish called Quesos Mexicanos.

Carlos wrote me back a pretty great response and I had a lightbulb moment. What if others out there had Mexican cheese questions, too? Surely I can’t be the only one.

Carlos Yescas

So I’m launching a new feature on this blog. It’s called Ask Carlos and it aims to answer your questions — any question! — about Mexican cheese. We’ll kick off the first one with the question I sent him just a few weeks ago, but I would love to run your questions in the future. (Please don’t let me stand as the only one geeking out on Mexican cheese.)

If you’ve got an inquiry, en inglés o español, send it to us at askcarlos [at] themijachronicles.com.

And without further ado, here is the first installment of…

ASK CARLOS

Dear Carlos: I’m attempting to recreate an enchiladas queretanas recipe at home, and the recipe I have calls for queso ranchero. It’s supposed to melt in a pan with some sauteed onion, and that’s the enchilada filling.

Do you have any idea what an acceptable substitute might be? I don’t remember exactly what the filling is like, as I haven’t been to Querétaro in awhile, but I don’t recall it being oozy and stringy. The recipe does call for grating the cheese, however.

Guessing I don’t want to go with the “queso ranchero” label cheese they sell at the Latino grocery store around the corner?

Maybe Muenster?

Abrazos,
Mija

Carlos responds: Mija, I confess I love to get emails like this. This is one of the biggest issues in cheese life in Mexico. Queso ranchero is a fresh, queso blanco made with very fresh curd. However, in Querétaro, they call queso Adobera queso ranchero. All the states in the Bajío have this issue. The cheese they want is something similar to a Tetilla from Spain or something like a Colby from the midwest. It will be a cheese that melts easily, but doesn’t become stringy like quesillo. If you don’t have those available, you could also get Fol Epi, most Polish delis would carry it.

Finally, Muenster is an American cheese with a similar personality disorder. The French Munster is a very stinky cheese. There is also a German cheese, which I’m guessing is the cheese that was brought to the U.S. by immigrants and it is firmer, but still features a distinct orange rind from some b. linens growing on it. The American Muenster is basically a cheddar with color and a little bit of acidity, but really nothing worth talking about. The deli stuff is awful, I think, but since it is made in blocks, it is great for sandwiches.

Hope this helps.

–Carlos

Don’t forget to email us your questions!

Five Mexican recipes to make for Day of the Dead

October 24, 2013 by Lesley Tellez

Up until this year, I wasn’t quite sure what the typical Day of the Dead Foods were in Mexico, beyond the traditional pan de muerto, candied sweets and hot chocolate. I had an idea of the sweets, but what about the savory stuff?

I did some research and it turns out that Day of the Dead foods vary across the country. According to the excellent Sabor a Mexico magazine, which publishes recipes and articles about Mexican culinary traditions, savory Day of the Dead foods can include tamales (both zacahuil-size in ~~Puebla~~ the Huasteca and the smaller Mucbi Pollo in Yucatán), enchiladas, barbacoa, pozoles, mole, caldos, atoles, and the requisite candied sweets and pan de muerto, in all shapes and sizes. The foods seem to be as varied as the styles of altars.

Many of these regional Mexican foods haven’t quite made an inroads in popular American home kitchens yet. But here are five Mexican recipes I found that would do perfectly well for any Day of the Dead meal in the U.S. The holiday is celebrated in Mexico mostly on Nov. 1 and 2.

1. Champurrado.

Champurrado, courtesy of Muy Bueno Cookbook.

Champurrado, generally speaking, is a thick drink made from masa diluted in water, chocolate and cinnamon. Grandmothers and food vendors in Mexico City, according to Ricardo Muñoz Zurita’s Mexican food dictionary, insist that real champurrado contains only water, piloncillo, cinnamon and pinole, a non-nixtamalized, toasted corn. The drink is also made in various other ways across Mexico. Muy Bueno Cookbook’s recipe calls for making it with masa harina, star anise, milk, cinnamon and piloncillo.

2. Pumpkin and Chorizo Tamales.
This is my own recipe from a few years back, which creates small, sweet-and-savory tamales that are perfect for breakfast. (Or placing on an altar.) I used nixtamalized coarse-ground harina de maíz that I bought at Mercado de la Merced in Mexico City, but if you don’t have access to that, any coarse-ground masa harina for tamales would work fine. The chorizo here is also more of a Spanish style, not the softer Northern Mexican style, but of course you’re free to use what you like best.
3. Mole.

Frida Kahlo’s mole, by Tasty Trix.

The Frida Kahlo Museum in Mexico City actually has the artist’s mole recipe on a billboard. Blogger Tasty Trix took a picture on her last visit and then made the dish at home. Trix herself says: “I absolutely fell in love with the food in Mexico City, and I knew when I got home I wanted to try to recreate as many of the wonderful dishes I had as possible. …It was beautifully complex and there were notes of bitter chocolate, cinnamon, peppers, and nuts.” I’d highly recommend the cookbook Frida’s Fiestas if you’re interested in learning more about dishes of the time period, and what Frida might’ve eaten.

4. Calabaza en Tacha (Candied Squash).

Calabaza en Tacha by Spicie Foodie.

Calabaza en tacha is a typical fall dessert in Central Mexico, comprising squash that’s been cooked in a sugar syrup until it softens into creamy pudding. In Mexico City markets, you’ll often see a whole small squash poked with tiny holes, shellacked in syrup, a dark-brown wedge sitting out for passersby to try. (Vendors will offer a taste with a small spoon. You must try it if you’re visiting.) There aren’t many recipes for calabaza en tacha in English on the Internet, but I really liked Spicie Foodie’s version, which contains molasses and cardamom.

5. Pan de Muerto.

The most well-known Day of the Dead food, pan de muerto is a sugary, buttery bread that’s lightly flavored with orange blossoms (agua de azahar), and draped with what are supposed to be knobby “bones” on top. I love Pati Jinich’s step-by-step recipe. Or here’s the version I recreated from Fany Gerson’s My Sweet Mexico.

Where to eat in Mexico City: Nicos

October 21, 2013 by Lesley Tellez

A tostada topped with edible flowers from Nicos, a Mexico City restaurant.

One of my favorite restaurants in Mexico City, for most of the time that I lived there, was Nicos, a neighborhood spot off a busy avenue in Azcapotzalco. Chef Gerardo Vázquez Lugo has presided there for seven years, and his menu of traditional-but-creative Mexican food has turned the place into a citywide destination. He sources some of his recipes from colonial-era cookbooks; others might highlight a lesser-known chile or dish from a particular region. Vásquez’s parents opened the restaurant in 1957, and the neighborhood clearly adores the place — it can be impossible to get a table during the average weekday lunch hour.

My last visit took place a few days before I left for New York. My friend and I decided to start with mezcal, and a waiter wheeled over a little cart with at least a dozen bottles.

“Do you like your mezcal smoky, aromatic, or herbaceous?” he asked. He began opening several bottles and passing them to me so I could smell them, and eventually poured the desired choice into a silver carafe. It was an elegant, thoughtful little detail that I hadn’t seen in any other restaurant.

Chef Vázquez was among the first that I could remember to use edible flowers on his menu, and among the first to plant a garden on the restaurant’s rooftop. Usually I like to get some sort of edible-flower dish when I dine there because he uses them so artfully — the tostada duo, for instance, is almost too pretty to eat.

I always, always order the sopa seca de natas, a colonial-era recipe that smashes together layers of crepes in a creamy tomato sauce. It’s like eating most comforting Mexican rice or fideo, the decadence level ratcheted up about 20 notches.

Nicos’ sopa seca de natas.

Salsas and sea salt from Colima, at Nicos in Mexico City.

A salad of edible flowers with grapefruit, at Nicos in Mexico City.

For my last meal there, we chose crabs coated in amaranth and pumpkin seeds and served with green mole, and conejo al chile piquín. The menu said the rabbit was raised in Tolimán, Querétaro, by a group of indigenous women. Both entrees were stellar — the amaranth, almost like a savory brittle, added a toasty-meaty umami to the mild crab. The rabbit fell easily off the bone and had just the right kick of heat. We scooped hunks of the meat into corn tortillas, which are made on-site.

While we ate, a band played Beatles songs and rock hits from the 1970’s. (Live music at lunchtime is one of my favorite Mexico City restaurant quirks.) Most folks in the dining room looked like business workers on a break, in dark suits and dresses. On the weekends I’ve seen mostly families.

Crab in amaranth-pumpkin seed batter, sitting in a lagoon of green mole.

Rabbit with chile piquin, from Nicos in Mexico City

I’ll be back in Mexico City again at the end of this week, and I know where I’ll be dining. Who wants to come with me?

Nicos
Cuitlahuac 3102, near the corner of Clavería, Col. Claveria
Note: Nicos is only open for lunch, and it’s not open on Sundays. The restaurant is about 20-minute cab ride north of Polanco. If you’re skilled at using public transport in DF, you can also take a pesero from Metro Chapultepec and get off right at the corner of Cuiltlahuac and Clavería. After you eat, make sure to take a look at the restaurant’s organic food shop, La Nicolasa, across the street.

More on Nicos:
Nicos, Mexico City Treasure (Mexico Cooks)
Restaurante Nicos: A Family Affair (Culinary Backstreets)
A Q&A with Gerardo Vásquez Lugo (Wine Enthusiast)

Fried Brussels sprout and bacon tacos with charred tomato salsa

October 15, 2013 by Lesley Tellez

Last week I went to a food fair near Madison Square Park, and I was super excited to try a deep-fried Brussels sprout taco I’d read about online.

The taco, which I gobbled up in about three bites, was fine enough. It had creamy sauce and pureed beans, and some pickled onions.

But it wasn’t what I was envisioning in my head. I’d wanted just plain old fried Brussels sprouts. Maybe their papery insides lightly charred. Some bacon mixed in. And a simple, good salsa on top.

I don’t fault the taco stand for not selling this, by the way. As Roberto Santibañez told the New York Times recently, if you put one item in a tortilla and try to sell it as a taco, no one in New York will buy it.

In my house, though, we are free to taquear whatever we want. Yesterday I fried up the Brussels sprouts and bacon (splattering my yoga shirt in the process — note to self, do not fry bacon in yoga clothes), and while everything cooked, I charred our last CSA tomato on the comal.

I whipped up a quick toasted chile de árbol salsa, then spritzed the hot, crispy Brussels sprouts with lime juice and a few spoonfuls of the red stuff. One bite and it was exactly what I’d been hoping for: sweet, acidic, tangy. Not exactly unfussy, but perfect for me.

Fried Brussels Sprout and bacon tacos, with charred tomato salsa
Makes 6-8 tacos
Serves 4 for a light appetizer, or 2 for dinner with leftovers

Notes: You can make the salsa the day before, to save some time.

For the charred tomato salsa:
1 large, ripe beefsteak tomato (about 1/2 lb.)
5 chile de árbol
1 medium-sized clove garlic, unpeeled
1/4 teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste

For the fried Brussels sprout tacos:
Just under 1/4 lb. thick-sliced bacon (I used about 9 slices); or lardons
1 lb. fresh Brussels sprouts, rinsed and thorughly dried
About 1/4 cup olive oil, plus more as needed
A package of corn tortillas
Lime wedges for serving

1. First, the salsa: Heat a comal or nonstick skillet to medium-low. When hot, place the tomato in the center, and the garlic clove and chile de árbol on the side. (Sides of pan = less direct heat = less chance of burning.) Turn the chiles frequently until they start to release their spicy aroma, about 30 seconds to a minute. Remove chiles from the comal to cool. Meanwhile, turn the tomato and garlic until they’re soft and blackened in spots.

Pluck off and discard the chile stems. Crumble or tear the chiles — with their seeds, if you like it hot — into the blender jar. Peel and roughly chop the garlic clove, and add that, too. Blitz until minced. Quarter the tomato and add to the blender jar with one or two tablespoons of water. (Or none.) Once salsa reaches your desired texture, pour into a bowl with 1/4 teaspoon salt. Let sit while you fry the sprouts.

2. Then, the tacos: Cook the bacon over medium-low heat in a large cast-iron skillet. Alternately, you can use this very cool water method from Kenji Lopez-Alt at Serious Eats, which ensures that the bacon cooks evenly.

While the bacon cooks, remove any funny-looking outer leaves from the Brussels sprouts. Cut off the hard end nubs, and slice them neatly in half. Set aside.

Cool the cooked bacon on a plate lined with paper towels.

In the same pan as you fried the bacon — yep, we’re gonna use that grease — add 2 tablespoons of olive oil, and heat over a medium flame. When hot, use tongs to carefully place Brussels sprouts cut-side down, in one layer. They should sizzle. Don’t move them. And don’t leave the kitchen or start washing dishes, because these things cook quickly. Turn them once the edges start to darken, about 3 minutes. Remove from pan once they’re dark-golden on both sides.

Repeat with the rest of the Brussels sprouts, draining each batch on paper towels. (This took me about three batches in a 10-inch cast iron skillet. I really need a larger one. Santa?) Chop the cooled bacon and toss with sprouts.

Warm the tortillas on the stove or the microwave. (I usually start with two per person, for a light meal.) Place tortillas in a cloth or basket to keep warm, and serve Brussels sprouts and bacon immediately, passing lime wedges and salsa.

Instagrammers I love: Mexican Food Porn

October 11, 2013 by Lesley Tellez

Tacos Leo in Los Angeles. Photo by Mexican Food Porn.

Mexican Food Porn’s photos make me ache for Mexico City.

His images — shared both on Tumblr and his Instagram account — capture Mexican food’s rich colors and layers, and sometimes its chaos. Chilaquiles bask in a messy lagoon of cream; a shrimp taco with a harsh sheen of cheese shines a little too brightly under white lights. (Haven’t we all eaten that shrimp taco, maybe a little too late at night?)

The owner of the account is a 27-year-old Mexico City resident, who spent five years living in California’s Bay Area. He was born in Monterrey, Mexico.

MFP agreed to answer some questions for me via email, but he said he preferred to remain anonymous, as he’s actively pursuing other interests unrelated to photography and food.

Here’s more from him. (Disclaimer: he sometimes uses stronger language than I generally do on this site.)

Q: Why Mexican food and not some other kind of food?

Tacos Guisados in Mexico City. Photo by Mexican Food Porn.

Ask any Mexican who leaves the country for any period of time, what do you miss the most? Politics? Traffic? No… people miss their food. The blog was formed in San Francisco, basically because of my nostalgia for Mexican food and culture. During my five years in SF, I noticed that while the Bay Area has some decent Mexican food spots, I was always longing for more authentic stuff.

While exploring, I realized that Mexican food, or any food really, is marked by geography and culture. A taco in L.A. is way different from the ones in S.F. A burrito in SF is way different than in San Diego. The possibilities are endless, and I tried to embrace everything. One of my favorite burritos? Señor Sisig California burrito. A fusion between Filipino and Mexican/Californian, stuffed with French fries. Is it “authentic”? Nope, but who cares? It’s a niche on its own.

Also, Mexicans tend to “Mexicanize” anything in their way, especially food. Go to a Japanese restaurant in Mexico and it’s not uncommon to see bits of jalapeño in your soy sauce. Hot dogs? Wrap them in bacon and top them with grilled onions and serrano peppers. Fettuccine with creamy chipotle… so what is truly Mexican cuisine?

Fettuccine with creamy chipotle sauce. Photo by Mexican Food Porn.

Finally, more than Mexican food I want to emphasize one of life’s greatest pleasures: sitting down, ordering drinks and enjoying a meal with loved ones. Doesn’t matter if it’s Chinese, high-end Indian or drunk greasy tacos at 4 a.m.

Q: What was the best thing you ate recently?

A barbacoa taco with avocado cream, from Pujol, Mexico City. Photo by Mexican Food Porn.

Pujol in Mexico City. I went for the first time a couple of weeks ago and it was simply amazing. The food, the decor, the concepts. It was a great experience. From that entire meal, the barbacoa taco with a tortilla made with poblano peppers and the Mole Madre were fucking unreal. I forgot I was sitting in a fine dining establishment. Enrique Olvera is redefining our cuisine in amazing ways.

Another amazing spot? La Panga del Impostor in Guadalajara, a little informal hip seafood joint run by Chef Antonio de Livier and restaurateur Javier Rodriguez. Everything in the menu is jaw-droppingly good. You happen to be in Guadalajara and have a near-death hangover? Go there.

A scallop, octopus and shrimp tostada from La Panga de Guadalajara. Photo by Mexican Food Porn.

A scallop, octopus and shrimp tostada from La Panga del Impostor.

Q: You’re stranded on a desert island and can only take 3 antojitos. What are they?
This is a cruel question. Only 3?

– Guacamole with pork cracklings to scoop
– Tacos de carnitas
– Tortas – Cemitas

It’s interesting, because seafood isn’t considered to be in the antojitos realm, but I think they totally should. And since I am in a deserted island:

-Aguachile
-Coctél Vuelve a la Vida
-Oysters. Oysters and more oysters.

Extra points:
-Mezcal, tequila and ice cold beer. (Better be hydrated.)

Q: Do you cook?
I try to as much as I can. I tend not to measure things, I just throw things around, scoop with my finger to taste. For me cooking has been lately some sort of laboratory-style therapy. Chopping things, letting things simmer, smells… just simply engaging all the senses and testing. It’s pretty relaxing. That said, I don’t think I would last 3 minutes as a line cook, but I can feed a small group of people.

Mexican Food Porn’s homemade tomatillo salsa.

Q: Have you found any Mexican food dishes particularly hard to photograph?
Not really. As of now most of the food pictures I take are with my iPhone. I guess the challenging part is to have a good angle and right lighting. At times it’s hard to just whip out the phone and take pictures. You know, just holding your plate of tacos, or at a restaurant. Moving around the plate and other eaters. I’m getting better dealing with the “what the fuck are you doing?” looks.

Q: Chile de árbol or habanero?
Lately I have been eating a lot of habanero. But how can you say no to chile de árbol?