My Mexico: A Culinary Odyssey with More Than 300 Recipes Hardcover - 1998

Excerpt

It is the beginning of May, and the hottest month of all, as I sit down to write this book in my ecological house in San Francisco Coatepec de Morelos, known locally as San Pancho. The sky is hazy with heat and the dust stirred up by the sudden gusts of high winds, with occasional palls of smoke from a forest fire in the mountains to the east. Often these fires are purposely started by clandestine agents scouting timber for the greedy timber merchants who can then go in to clear and to cut or by farmers unattended burning of last years stubble to prepare the land for planting. The hills to the south and west are brown and bare in sharp contrast to the brilliant green valley, where the dam provides irrigation to the low fields around it. This is the month when tempers flare and explode, when young blades and old machos drink up a storm and give primeval screams or shoot off their rounds of ammunition as they saunter through the lanes of San Pancho. There is a heaviness in the air and a sense of foreboding. Will the rains come on time? The signs are anxiously awaited. Heriberto, my nearest neighbor, says he has seen the first aludas, winged ants, that are a sure sign, but the mayates, june bugs, hovering around the lamps and bombarding me at night are still too small. André down at the hotel says the swifts have not yet finished their nests (of course it is hard to know, since he drives them away with a broom because their droppings offend his sense of order--inherited from his French colonialist father). Occasionally the sky will threaten rain toward evening, and the next morning there is a delicious scent of damp undergrowth from the tree-clad mountains above. But when the bullfrogs begin their first intermittent raspings, you know that rain is near. On the other hand, if the rainy season starts too early, the last of the coffee berries will burst and spoil, the tomatoes will rot and never ripen, and too often August, the month in which the ears of corn are filling out, will be dry. At this time of year I bless my adobe house, despite all its drawbacks. It keeps pleasantly cool while the water from the solar collector gives me piping-hot showers. People who live in harsher climates tend to think that there are no seasons here in the semitropics of 5,900 feet. Yes, there's no snow, and just a very occasional frost or brief, gusty hailstorm. January is a bare month, cool and sunny, and if we are in favor with the gods, the first days of February bring welcome rains, cabañuelas, which encourage the plums and peaches to bloom and help top up the tanks for the hot, dry months ahead. The weeks that follow bring the most brilliant-hued flowers of the year: bougainvilleas of all shades, geraniums, amaryllis, cacti and tropical climbers contrasting with the pale blue masses of plumbago, while citrus blossoms perfume the air and my bees are satiated with these aromas. The vegetable garden is at its best. The first delicate peas and fava beans are harvested, and the nopal cactus rows come alive, shooting out their tender and succulent paddles. Carlos, who is in charge outside, cuts the vegetables and collects the blackberries and strawberries a little too early, but, as he explains, we have a host of eager and cunning winged sharecroppers who would leave me nothing if they had their way.

Yesterday he brought in the freshly winnowed crop of wheat. Not much--it was planted on a small patch of poor land--but it's enough for my whole-wheat loaves for the year. Every month brings its own modest harvest, and as the last picking of coffee is completed the small, black indigenous avocados are ready.

The orioles and red throats are scrapping over the mulberries, while the decorative maracua vine outside my study window is alive with its white passion flowers, all facing straight up to the sky with their green antennae to attract the attention of the hummingbirds, butterflies, and bees. The lime tree is heavy with fruit, while the oranges and tangerines are just forming for the summer crop. The stone walls around the house are bedecked with the showy white cereus blossoms of the pitahayas--that most exotic of fruits with shiny, shocking pink skin, pale green hooks, and deep magenta flesh, specked with myriad tiny black seeds.

The little red and yellow plums will ripen in the next months, next to the brilliant-colored tamarillos and the last of the citrons. As May draws to an end, it is the time to plant the corn and ask for the irrigation water that flows down through a maze of open canals through the orchards and pastures of my neighbors. The water comes from springs in land owned higher up by a nearby village and is shared between them, my neighbors, and the community lands down by the dam.

Calabacitas con Hongos--Squash with Mushrooms
Makes 4 to 6 servings

This is my all out favorite dish. Even without the cream and cheese it makes a delicious vegetable side dish and with all the rich things, served in individual gratin dishes, makes a wonderful first course or main vegetarian course. I have modified the cooking method given to me. By cooking the mushrooms separately, the flavor is intensified. The small tender clavitos (Leophyllum decastes) literally "little nails" known as Fried Chicken mushrooms in the U.S., are my preferred mushroom for this recipe, but any small, juicy mushroom may be substituted.

1 pound (450 gms) zucchini or green squash
3 1/2 tablespoons vegetable oil
2 heaped tablespoons finely chopped white onion
1 large poblano chile, charred, peeled, cleaned and cut into narrow strips
salt to taste
1/2 pound (225 gms) mushrooms (see note above) rinsed and shaken dry
1/2 cup (125 ml) loosely packed, coarsely chopped cilantro
4 ounces (115 gms) queso fresco or domestic Muenster cut into thin slices
1/2 to 3/4 cup (125-188 ml) crème fraîche

Rinse, trim and cut squash into 1/4-inch (3/4 cm) cubes. Heat 2 tablespoons of the oil, add the onion and chile strips with a sprinkle of salt and cook without browning for about 1 minute. Add the squash, cover the pan and cook over a medium heat, shaking the pan from time to time to avoid sticking, until the squash is almost tender -about 10 minutes. Meanwhile, toss the mushrooms in the remaining 1 1/2 tablespoons of oil, sprinkle with salt and stir fry for about 5 minutes or until the juice that exudes has become almost gelatinous. Add to the squash. Sprinkle the top of the vegetables with the cilantro, cover with cheese and cream. Cover the pan and cook over a gentle heat for about 5 minutes until the cheese has melted.

Botana de Papas Locas--Crazy Potato Snack

Makes 1 pound
Although small red-skinned potatoes were served that day at the ranch, the word loca refers to the very small, light-skinned potatoes that grow wild in the hills in the northern part of the Bajío: Zacatecas, San Luis Potosí and part of Guanajuato.

1 pound (450 gms) very small new potatoes, unpeeled
salt to taste
1/4 cup (63 ml) vinegar
4 tablespoons olive oil
2 medium white onions, thinly sliced
2 teaspoons powdered chile de árbol or pulla
3 tablespoons fresh lime juice

Put the potatoes into a heavy pan, cover with water, add salt and vinegar and cook covered over a medium flame until just tender-about 20 minutes. Drain.

Heat the olive oil in a frying pan, add the potatoes and fry until slightly browned-about 5 minutes. Add the onions and chile powder and continue frying, stirring them from time to time, taking care that the onions do not burn-about 5 minutes. Add the lime juice and serve still warm with toothpicks.

Chilatas--No translation
Makes 1 1/2 cups (375 ml) loosely packed

Chilatas is a textured powder of toasted and ground seeds seasoned with chile and salt. It is sprinkled over a freshly made corn tortilla or a dish of beans. I even use it on salads. It is delicious, healthy, crunchy and addictive.

1/3 cup (83 ml) shelled peanuts
1/2 cup (125 ml) sesame seeds
1/2 cup (125 ml) raw, hulled pumpkin seeds
1/8 teaspoon powdered, hot, dried chiles (not chile powder mixed with other condiments)
1/2 teaspoon or to taste, medium coarse seasalt

Toast each of the seeds separately in a heavy pan, taking care not to let them get too brown. set aside to cool. Grind them separately in an electric coffee/spice grinder to a textured consistency. Mix together with the chile and salt and store in a dry place in an airtight container. It keeps indefinitely.