esperanza

No pictures please--especially if there is licking involved--but we're as interested in how the date turns out as how the dinner turns out. Inquiring minds want to know...

For adding to tacos, I've only ever seen finely shredded raw cabbage, not marinated. Don't get me wrong, I've also seen finely shredded lettuce--but it's not nearly as prevalent as raw cabbage. I'll be in the DF the first week of October and intend to investigate a lot of taco stands for cabbage/lettuce availability. Film at eleven.

When my son was seven and my daughter was just three, said son was morosely pushing his scrambled eggs around on his plate in an interminable dawdle. Husband says, "Ess, Kirk, ess..." Kirk, puzzled, says, "Ess?" Husband answers, "It means eat in Yiddish." Charming daughter pipes up, "Yeah, Kirk, ess...it's in ya dish!"

Around here, tepache is considered to be an excellent restorative to a mildly 'off' stomach. It's often served with a small bowl of baking soda on the side. Folks at table add the amount of baking soda they prefer--or none at all--to their glass of tepache. It makes an amazing amount of fizz and gives the tepache both sparkle in the glass and added curative properties in the stomach.

I live near Guadalajara and have found a few 'keepers', although my eating forays into the city are mostly downscale mom'n'pop kinds of places. In Tlaquepaque--off the tourist path--, eat at Mariscos El Pescador Rojas, open only for comida from 11AM till 6PM. Take Juárez to the Parián, turn left at the end of the Parián. Go two blocks; you'll see a Canadá shoe store on the right-hand corner. Turn right. About half a block down on the right-hand side is a public parking lot; park there and walk back the way you came about two or three doors; you'll see the restaurant's oyster bar. I ate there for the umpteenth time yesterday. My friend and I shared an order of guacamole; she ordered filete de robalo a la Mexicana (sea bass filet with tomato, onion, and chile). I ordered what I always order: huachinango dorado (whole fried red snapper). If you order the whole fish, you can get the size you want--mine was well over half a kilo. The meals came with sautéed vegetables (carrots and chayote), salad, and rice, accompanied by house-made tortillas. She had a soft drink and I had a limonada, although of course there is a full bar. The entire bill was 268 pesos. Also in Tlaquepaque but definitely an upscale tourist draw is Adobe, on Independencia (the walking street). The ambience is lovely inside; there are also tables outside where the breeze is delightful but where you are also frequently approached by ambulatory vendors. Food is delicious for the most part; I particularly like the cilantro soup. Full bar, wine list. Substantially more expensive than the fish restaurant. One last Tlaquepaque suggestion is Casa Fuerte, also on Independencia. It's another upscale and lovely restaurant with outstanding food and full bar/wine list. In downtown Guadalajara, go for an Italian comida to Ma Come No on Avenida de las Américas, about 3 blocks north of the corner with Avenida México. They open at 1PM for comida and remain open until late evening. Some nights there is live music. Be sure to order the salad bar with your meal--in fact, if you want a light lunch, order only the salad bar. The menu doesn't show that as an option, but for 30 pesos you will have a heaping plateful of incredible vegetables, a variety of salads (seafood, orzo, etc) and cold meats, as well as a slice or two of fritatta, along with grisini and other crunchy breads. All of the breads and pastas are house-made. You'll be served a complimentary rosemary focaccia with olive oil and balsamic vinegar before your meal. I've eaten there frequently and particularly like the putanesca, the four-cheese ravioli, and several others I can't remember at the moment. I often eat just a pasta and the salad bar. The last time I was there I ordered the salad bar and the grilled fresh tuna, which was served seared and medium rare as requested. Expect to pay 60-90 pesos per pasta and 80-150 pesos per entree; add 20 pesos for the salad bar. Full bar, decent wine list. Clientele is mainly very upscale Guadalajarans out for a business lunch or lunch after a morning's recreational shopping. For a way-off-the-tourist-beaten-path treat, go to Karne Garibaldi at the corner of Garibaldi and José Clemente Orozco in Colonia Santa Teresita, just west of the Centro Histórico. They're open from about noon till late at night. The restaurant serves only one dish: carne en su jugo, and holds the Guinness Book of World Records record for fastest restaurant service. Before your rear end hits the chair, a platoon of waiters will deposit plates of frijolitos refritos and grilled onions on your table. The choice for your main dish is small, medium, large, or extra-large, with chile or without. Go for the medium, with. When your meal is in front of you, add as much chopped onion and chopped cilantro as you like, a pinch of coarse salt, a squeeze of limón, and as much more table sauce as you want. Get ready to be instantly addicted. The waiter will also offer you quesadillas. For dessert there is flan, jericalla, and mil hojas--maybe something else, but I don't recall. The mil hojas is outstanding. Full bar and soft drinks. I've eaten here a hundred times and have never been disappointed. Ridiculously inexpensive. Go to Birriería El Chololo, just past the airport on the Guadalajara/Chapala highway. They're open only for comida from about noon till 7PM and serve only birria, the best I've ever eaten. Birria in this case is goat, stewed and plated, then glazed under a salamander, served with a bowl of consomé (the seasoned stewing juices), frijoles refritos, and house-made tortillas on the side. This is another place I've been to more times than I can count and have always been delighted. Unless you want birria surtido (your plate will include slices of snout, ears, intestines, etc), ask for maciza. That plate is less exotic--it's just slices of non-offal meat. The waiter will ask if you want frijoles. Yes, you do. There's a squeeze bottle filled with a house-made salsa on the table; it's to be added to your consomé. Also add onion, limón, and a pinch of coarse salt. The restaurant seats nearly 1000 people. The best time to go to El Chololo is Sunday afternoon, when all Guadalajara is there. The mariachis are playing, the joint is jumping. I'll be there tomorrow afternoon at around 3PM. These suggestions should keep you grinning for a while. Send me a PM and we'll talk about it some more. You too, ExtraMSG. Next time you're down here let me know before you come.

Greetings from the central highlands of Mexico. I live near Guadalajara (La Perla del Occidente, the Pearl of the West), Mexico's second largest city. Quesadillas are very common here, made using either corn or wheat flour tortillas. Quesadillas made of raw masa tortillas are much less frequently seen. The restaurant that I mentioned in my earlier post, Fonda Los Burritos de Moyahua, makes quesadillas using freshly made-on-the-premises flour tortillas wrapped around queso asadero, a melting cheese. Unfortunately, that quote is not accurate. The quesadilla made of raw masa formed into a tortilla that has not been cooked prior to being filled is very different from the quesadilla made of a previously cooked tortilla. It's not about freshness. The quesadilla made of pre-cooked tortillas is just as traditional as the quesadilla made of a raw masa tortilla. They're two different things entirely. The raw masa quesadilla is almost always fried, as shown in EMSG's excellent photo; the cooked tortilla quesadilla is usually toasted on a comal without oil. Corn tortillas are almost always served with meals in the interior of Mexico , as EMSG said. I do know one restaurant in this area which specializes in Sonora-style food. At that restaurant, flour tortillas are always available, but the client is always asked if he or she would prefer tortillas of flour or corn. NB: That picture in guajolote's post isn't a comal. It's the top part of a brasero. It looks like an inverted sombrero--a sombrero that would perch like a wide-brimmed yarmulke on top of your head. How's that for a mixed metaphor? It's specifically used for deep frying or stir-frying. If you've ever been to the Plaza Gertrudis Bocanegra in Pátzcuaro and eaten enchiladas placeras, you've seen the quintessential use of the brasero.

What a great photo, EMSG. And an interesting thread as well. Let's backtrack just for a minute and talk about quesadillas made from masa vs quesadillas made from corn tortillas. The photo in the last post is a perfect illustration of quesadillas made from masa. In Spanish, masa simply means dough. Masa harina, then, literally means dough flour--in this case, made of maíz (corn, as Jaymes said up there in this thread). In another recent thread I mentioned that here in Mexico, tortilla dough, cake batter, cookie dough, and pancake batter are all called masa. So when we talk about quesadillas made from masa, we're talking about quesadillas made from raw tortilla dough, formed to make tortillas but not previously cooked. These quesadillas can be either deep-fried or cooked on the comal. Quesadillas made from corn tortillas, on the other hand, are made from ordinary corn tortillas that come from the tortillería or the supermarket. These quesadillas can be cooked on the comal or deep-fried. The cooking vessel shown in the photo way up there in this thread is not a comal, but a brasero (brazier, in English). It's typically used to fry things like taquitos, enchiladas, and other antojitos in either oil or lard. A comal is a griddle and can be made of clay, cast iron, or tin. Food is usually cooked on the comal without additional grease. My personal preference is quesadillas made from flour tortillas, probably because of the lard or vegetable shortening that gives the tortilla that extra flavor. There's a restaurant fairly near me, Burritos de Moyahua, that makes the best quesadillas I've ever eaten. Rolled, slightly crisped flour tortillas, cheese oozing out the ends with bits of crunchy browned cheese clinging to the edges of the tortillas--oh boy, it's been quite a while since I ate there. Maybe tomorrow...

WAIT! I have a way better idea: ROAD TRIP! All of you come on down here, we'll go to Michoacán and eat uchepos till we founder in them.

I think rancho got out there in his corn and foundered. This has all been so interesting. On reflection, I think Fifi's right, American sweet corn won't do it. Iowa field corn probably would, if grabbed at the right moment. I was in the local pasturería (feed store) a little earlier today, looking at dried corn kernels just because of this thread. Sheesh, we are all obsessed. I was smiling and thinking about all of you, folks I don't even know, people from a cyber world beyond the ken of the woman waiting on me, while I'm standing in this dinky little hay-smelling place buying Whiskas dry cat food a granel (in bulk). It felt like when worlds collide. At any rate, none of the dried corn was green and none had a dent. It was all either white or red, for nixtamal and pozole. EMSG, the thought of adding eggs to the uchepo recipe sounds not quite right. Corn starch might work. I want a full report, and I also want a FedEx package of emerald green dent corn. Dontcha just love the Internet?

I spend a lot of time in Michoacán, since so many friends are there. Several years I was visiting an old friend out in the mountains, in a town called Tancítaro. She took me to visit her elderly aunt, who lives a goodly distance away on a rancho. We drove for about half an hour, then hiked across a field, then crossed a ditch on a log (please, I am too old for this), and then walked some more to get there. The aunt, knowing that my friend (who lives now in Ensenada) craves uchepos, made them for us while we were there. Needless to say, she didn't use a food processor; she used her metate to grind the fresh corn. I watched, made notes, and ate. Her salsa verde was made using blanched and seeded chile perón and boiled tomatillos and lots of fresh cilantro. The perón adds a fruity, flowery flavor to the salsa verde that combines extremely well with the uchepos, as well as with corundas.

Shelora, I think that uchepos are probably magic. You do indeed grind the corn (use a food processor, or use a metate). Somehow the combined ingredients create masa--a soft sticky dough that becomes sheer inspiration in the steaming. These particular tamales are never filled. Masa literally means dough. Cake batter, for example, is also called masa in Spanish, as is bread dough, tortilla dough, pancake batter, cookie dough, etc. I make a Purhépecha soup that requires a little ball of masa de tortilla blended in as a thickening agent. Uchepos are...what can I say...softer than clouds, sweeter than dreams. They're summer on a plate. Combined with the picante of the salsa verde and the slightly acid crema, they're food for the gods. And if you make the salsa with chile perón instead of chile serrano, you add the taste of flowers to the mix. Surely with all the tender sweet corn available now in the USA, one of you will try these. Just remember to save the green corn husks to wrap the tamales.

Here's a recipe for uchepos from Michoacán, with masa made from fresh corn. I've never seen these in Oaxaca, so I can understand your friends saying that only dried corn is used for masa. I think uchepos are probably the unique exception. This is the perfect time of year to make uchepos. If you've never tried them, they're addictive. Ingredients (For 4 people) 6 large tender ears of corn 100 grams butter 3 tablespoons sugar 1 teaspoon salt Fresh (not dried) corn husks PREPARATION Take the corn off the cobs and grind the kernels in a food processor. Beat the butter well with the sugar and salt and mix together with the ground corn. Make the tamales in the fresh corn husks and steam them in a tamal cooker for 30 minutes, or until the corn husk can be easily removed from the tamales. You can steam the tamales in a pressure cooker; it takes about 10 minutes. Serve in shallow bowls with salsa verde and crema.

Finely shredded cabbage to put on tacos is popular--nay, mandatory--all over Mexico. On the Baja, it's on fish tacos as well as every other kind. In the interior, it's available for every taco from carne asada to sesos. Most places, tacos are served on two small tortillas rather than on the large tortillas that are eaten with a meal. The tortillas, stacked two by two, are swished through a grease-slick section of the grill and heated, flipping first on one side and then to the other, till the edges just begin to crisp a little. At most taquerías the condiments are on the side for folks to add a gusto to their tacos. Where I live, there are two taco stands I frequent (or perhaps better said, I seldom, because I don't taquear too often). The condiments are arranged on the customer side of the grill in big plastic bowls. The choices are: frijoles de la olla, salsa de aguacate, a hot red salsa, a milder green salsa, minced onions, chopped cilantro, and finely shredded cabbage. Armed with a plate of three or four tacos of whatever meat you've chosen (carne asada, lengua, adobado, carnaza, sesos, buche, trompo), sprinkle some beans atop the meat. Salsa de aguacate over that, then the red or the green (depending on your heat tolerance). Then minced onions, then the cilantro, and finally a heap of shredded cabbage. Big red radishes are in another bowl; take what you like. The cooks keep cebollitas de cambray (large-bulb green onions) grilling in the meat juices/lard at the back of the grill; you ask for a couple; sweetly caramelized, they're plopped onto your plate. At table there are bowls of limón to squeeze onto the tacos and small bowls of sea salt to sprinkle if you need it. Heaven. I may have to go tonight.

Man oh man. Those articles were indeed interesting--thanks for posting them. I agree with Rachel. Multinational fast food is not food for low-income folks here in Mexico. I live near Guadalajara, Mexico's second largest city, where there are more Domino's Pizzas outlets than one would think necessary (a medium pizza is 105 pesos, a few cents less than $10USD), a goodly number of McDonald's, a few Burger Kings (cheese Whopper, regular fries, drink for 50 pesos--and forget 99 cent specials, those don't happen here), several KFCs, and until fairly recently, at least one Whataburger, a Texas hamburger chain. The Whataburger died a well-deserved death, but the rest appear to be flourishing. In Guadalajara we also have Baskin-Robbins, Chili's, Carl's Jr, Applebee's, and who-knows-what-all else. I've yet to see an Olive Garden or a Starbucks in Guadalajara, but *sigh*...I can feel them sneaking up on us. The fast food chain stores are, as Rachel said, urban--and fairly recent arrivals. The only Burger King I've seen outside the city is at the Guadalajara airport, hard by the international arrivals gate. Interesting placement, yes? The person-on-the-street eats on the street quite frequently, but it's much less expensive to buy a pollo rostizado, which comes with either roasted new potatoes or slaw for 50 pesos (and feed the whole family) than it is to spend 50 pesos for one person's meal at Burger King. It's more feasible to spend 50 or 60 pesos for tortas ahogadas (a Guadalajara specialty) to feed four guys than to spend twice that for enough pizza for that crew. I sometimes taquear (go out for tacos) to a stand near the corner of my street. Each taco, complete with freshly grilled meat, beans, onion (both minced raw and grilled whole), shredded cabbage, and chopped cilantro--plus salsa de aguacate and a choice of two or three other salsas--costs 4 pesos. I'd hate to think that Mr. Global Economy is going to be able to take that away, not only from me but from the family of five next door to me. They live well enough, but they sure as hell can't afford to eat at Burger King. Ponder this: the minimum wage in most parts of Mexico is 40 pesos a day. Less than $4.00USD. ¡Qué viva la torta!

The chile chipotle is one of my favorites and has been for many years. I keep a stash of dried chipotles as well as a jar of them en adobo in the refrigerator. The enormous Mega Mercado where I shop on occasion sells my all-time favorites, chiles chipotle en escabeche, made on the premises and dished up in tubs in the quantity you want. I frequently chop up one or two and mix them into a small can of tuna fish, along with some of the juice, and that's lunch. It's great that the chipotle is coming into its own up north!

That's a beautiful menu. Your guests should be delighted. One question: whatever is a confession wafer?

Queso fundido, anyone? Or perhaps queso fundido con chorizo? Or con champiñones? Or con jamón? Or con rajas de chile poblano? All of these varieties of 'queso in a bowl' (prepared everywhere in Mexico) are served with either totopos (chips) or with fresh hot tortillas. The cheese is melted in the oven; occasionally the bowl is a molcajete.

Chiles en Nogada is an absolutely fantastic dish! I love it and prepare it when I have guests and when it's the season. But hey, the season for it here in Mexico is in September, when it's traditional to serve it during the annual Independence Day celebrations. It's often served in restaurants as a special promotion around the 16th.

Hmm...well, I have never heard of stuffing a dried chile, but then I haven't heard everything. If it were me, I'd buy fresh poblanos, roast them on the comal till they were blackened, sweat them for 10 minutes in a plastic bag, and peel them. That's what I'd stuff with the picadillo. Then I would dredge them with flour and dip them in the beaten egg coating for chiles rellenos, fry them till they're golden, and drain well on paper toweling. You can do this much in advance, as well as make a light tomato salsa to spoon over them when you plate them. You can serve them a tiempo, which might be nice on a hot evening. It's unusual for it to be that hot in Victoria, no?

In my experience, traditional Mexican cooks of traditional Mexican recipes are usually shocked if I tell them that I prepared a traditional food in a non-traditional way. The shock is generally followed immediately by a look of pity for my ignorance. My first lesson in this was about 25 years ago and I remember it clearly and with some residual embarrassment. In other words, the hoja santa doesn't traditionally go with the chicken. I don't know where you live, but if high humidity accompanies those high-30s temperatures, the mole sounds too heavy. Unless, of course, you live in air conditioning--in which case, it doesn't really matter. Where I live, anchos are always dried chiles. Is that what you have in mind? Generally (again, where I live) the chiles used for stuffing are fresh poblanos. I'd gladly give you my $.02 worth if I understood your question better.

What an interesting response you made to NewYorkTexan's question. I live full time in Mexico and have also spent a good bit of time in France with friends who consider themselves to be quite counter-culture, and I'd say that you are dead on the money. My French friends are convinced that Tex-Mex food goes right along with that James Dean-'55 Chevy-Jack Kerouac mentality they love and live by. Your comment about the outlaw image made me laugh. It's so true. On the other hand, it's sometimes tough to convince people from north of the Rio Bravo (that's the Rio Grande to you Texans) that Mexican cuisine may be a little broader than their preconceptions. Here in the Central Highlands of Mexico, the food is sometimes puzzling to folks who come to visit who end up whining, "But where can we get real Mexican food? You know, like we eat in Texas (or California, or even at Taco Bell)." There is one place here in town where the food is served complete with black olives, shredded yellow cheese, and sour cream. The restaurant is much patronized by foreigners who believe it to be real-deal top-of-the-line Mexican food. The truth is that this particular restaurant is the only one around that serves what people honestly--and innocently--consider Mexican food to be. When I try to explain to foreigners that Mexicans generally eat Mexican food at home and that many want something different when they dine out, I get blank looks back. There are plenty of places selling mariscos, tortas, lonches and other mid-day delights. We have lots of late evening hole-in-the-wall places for central Mexican tamales, tacos, pozole, birria, and other cenaduría-type food. Unfortunately, most people from North of the Border are too nervous about coming down with turista to frequent those lower-end places, and the more upscale Mexican restaurants in the city near me are far too unusual for their consideration. Just try to explain cuitlacoche to the person whose mind encompasses only Tex-Mex. What in the heck is that stuff, anyway? When I go to Texas or California, I'm thrilled to eat authentic North of the Border Tex-Mex food. There's nothing quite like it. But when I'm home, give me honest-to-goodness comida casera, Central Highlands style.

Aaackkk, I got a DNS error and hit the blasted button again...sorry.

Gosh, maybe THAT'S what we were trying to do in my misspent youth, when we mixed Johnson's Baby Oil with iodine to make quick suntan oil. It shoulda been balsamic vinegar instead!

Cashews. Pistachios. Almonds. Pine nuts. You can have all the Brazil nuts and walnuts, and most of the pecans. How about Almendras Garapiñadas (Mexican Sugared Almonds) _______________________________________________________ Two cups raw almonds Two cups white sugar Pinch of salt Two cups water Mix all ingredients in a copper kettle and allow to cook over medium-high flame. Stir occasionally. At the point that the mixture begins to thicken and the almonds begin to crack, watch carefully and take the pot off the fire just as the almonds change color but before they begin to burn. The sugared almonds should be dark golden brown. Spread the almonds on a marble or metal surface to cool.

In my elementary school, they made a pork and sauerkraut main dish thing that was something I yearned for. I still think about how they might have done it. The pork was gray and stringy, the flavor leached out into the sauerkraut. It was always served with mashed potatoes, so that the sauerkraut/pork juice ran under the potatoes and it tasted---*sigh*--I've never been able to duplicate it. Re that Greek cheese: I do the same thing here in Mexico with queso asadero. One day the light bulb went on in my head that I really love (1) grilled cheese sandwiches and (2) the crispy burned cheese that drips out over the edges of the bread. Since that light bulb, I've started grilling the bread first (a good bolillo) and then grilling the cheese separately, letting it get good and brown on one side, then flipping it to brown the other side--then sliding it onto the bread. What a treat!