My first friend in Manson was Edith Valdovinos, who lived next door with her family. Her mother used to cook tortillas on the burner of their stove, without a pan. I still think of that image when I flip tortillas with my hands and think about how long it took to burn the feeling out of my finger pads.
I wasn’t very old the first time I saw a live goat outside my neighbor’s house, and although I knew it was related to the stew I ate later, I tried not to think about it. The same neighbors first introduced me to ceviche, an amazing blend of cabbage, tomatoes, lime juice and shrimp -- at that point I picked out the jalapeños. I wasn’t always as good with spicy foods as I am now, but I still ate chips with just the very tip dipped in salsa.
In college I studied in Spain, but while I was there I realized how much I missed Mexican food. (The one time I thought I had found a Mexican restaurant in Mallorca with my family, they served us barbecue sauce when we asked for salsa and my hopes were dashed). The Spanish eat very few spicy foods, and I never realized how important even the option of spicy was to me until it was taken away. As soon as I got back, I went on a spice-tolerance rampage that has left me where I am today: I don’t even taste spiciness in what most people consider to be a hot dish.
I ended college with a semester-long internship in Guadalajara, Mexico. I hated the internship, but loved the street tacos and the humble tables under makeshift awnings where you could get the most delicious and inexpensive tortas and tamales, served on plastic plates covered in plastic bags that could be quickly torn off and replaced for the next customer. I discovered the stringy, fast-melting quesillo -- absolutely perfect for quesadillas -- and somewhere in there, I tried mole for the first time.
Holy mole, how you make my heart and my taste buds sing! A kitchen-sink sauce, mole comes in many flavors and colors, all depending on who’s cooking and what part of Mexico you’re in.
They’re most famous for mole in Oaxaca (Wa HA Ka), one of the best-known Mexican states for culinary delights. Each time I am in Oaxaca I am amazed and entranced by all the food I find here.
Even the smallest things they eat in Mexico amaze me. El Cafecito, a café with two locations in Puerto Escondido on the Oaxacan coast, serves fresh rolls with butter and salsa while you’re waiting for your meal. This may sound strange, but think about it again: a freshly baked roll – they have their own bakery – smothered with real butter and freshly-made salsa. Why wouldn’t it be good?
Oaxacan hot chocolate is another one of my favorite simple pleasures. It is a mixture of cocoa, sugar, cinnamon and sometimes almonds, all ground together and formed into discs or bars to be used for baking, in mole, or for hot chocolate. The secret of the Oaxacan hot chocolate is the whipping. They use a special kitchen tool called a molinillo to whip their hot chocolate: you hold the molinillo between your hands and rub your hands back and forth as if you were going to start a fire with it, and the loose wood pieces on the end whip the chocolate into a light, frothy frenzy. At Cafecito they serve it in a bowl with a spoon – it’s a meal to savor all in itself.
The fruit in Oaxaca -- mango, pineapple, papaya -- is incredibly flavorful all on its own. One of my favorite things to eat here, however, does improve with a little bit of doctoring: plantains.
In Mexico, plantains are called macho bananas (plátano macho). They’re huge and meaty, like a regular banana on steroids. They’re starchier than a regular banana, hold together better, and they aren’t as sweet. All of this makes them perfect for frying.
1-1/2 tablespoons butter
2 teaspoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon salt
1 plantain
Melt the butter in a frying pan on medium heat. Mix 1 teaspoon of sugar into the melted butter. Slice the plantain into 1/4-inch pieces and place them gently in the butter. Fry until golden brown – about 5 minutes – and sprinkle with the remaining sugar before flipping. Continue to fry until the other side is golden brown, remove to a plate and sprinkle lightly with salt. Serve hot.
Warning: as much as you may want to remove the excess butter, placing the plantains on a paper towel will just ensure that they stick to it – the butter/sugar mixture fuses well with paper towels.
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-Morgan
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