I ate one. YUM.
I said, “There’s chipotle in them!”
I ate two. OMG.
I said, “I can take that platter”, and ate the remaining four. Of course, he was grilling some more.

No, I didn’t even try his Asian tuna sliders. No, I didn’t try his regular cheeseburger sliders. No, of course, I didn’t try his vegetarian sliders. All I wanted were these Chipotle Pork Sliders. I was hooked.

After I had my fill, I told Sean I had to post his recipe on my blog, as I was sure you all would love them just like I did. He obliged, and I tested his recipe many times giving it a few tweaks (hey, you know, I can’t help myself). I added a bit of onion, garlic and oregano to the meat mix and more chipotle (come on Sean, you talk like a Mexican!). I took some of the mayo out of the avocado spread and added the refreshing chives.

It’s what happens when you share recipes: they’re not yours anymore. They’re under the domain of the recipients who can do whatever they want with them. You killed yourself to make the best-ever sandwich and you hate mustard? Well, the next person printing your recipe may think all the sandwich needs is a little, or a lot of, mustard. I know this to be true, for I’ve heard from many of you wonderful personal touches and spins on my recipes through the comments on this blog. That’s the beauty of passing down recipes!

If you don’t go head over heels over these sliders, tweak them, and go ahead, make them your very own. The underlying notes for these sliders, for me, are: meat, especially pork, and chipotle are heavenly together; the melted cheese adds a rich welcome layer (all of my boys thought so too), and the avocado spread brings in a creaminess and freshness to everything inside that soft bun, it brightens it up (one of my beastly beasts skipped the avocado part, see? oh well..).

Sean uses brioche buns, which have a light sweetness and a soft and fluffy bite. If you find them, great! If you don’t, any mini hamburger buns work just fine. And then again, you may decide to turn these sliders into jumbo size burgers.

Want to go crazy? Top with crumbles of chorizo!

SEAN’S CHEESY CHIPOTLE PORK SLIDERS WITH AVOCADO SPREAD
Hamburguesitas de Cerdo con Chipotle, Queso y Crema de Aguacate
Makes 16 sliders

INGREDIENTS:
2 pounds ground pork
2 tablespoons finely chopped white onion
3 garlic cloves, finely chopped or pressed in garlic press
3 tablespoons sauce from chipotles in adobo sauce
1 chipotle chile in adobo sauce, seeded and finely chopped, more to taste
1 teaspoon dried Mexican oregano
1 teaspoon kosher or sea salt, or to taste
¼ teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
Olive oil, to grease the grill
1 large Hass avocado, halved, pit removed
2 tablespoons mayonnaise
2 tablespoons fresh squeezed lime juice
2 tablespoons chopped chives
¼ teaspoon kosher salt, or to taste
8 slices Monterey Jack or Muenster cheese
16 mini brioche or mini hamburger buns

TO PREPARE:
Prepare your grill or grill pan over medium heat. While it heats, in a large mixing bowl mix the pork with the onion, garlic, adobo sauce, chipotle chile in adobo sauce, oregano, salt and pepper until well combined. With your hands (I find it helpful if hands are wet), make 16 round patties, about 3/4-inch thick, and place them on a baking sheet or platter.

In a medium-mixing bowl, place the avocado pulp and mash with a fork until smooth. Combine with the mayonnaise, lime juice, chives and salt, blend well. Set aside.

Once the grill or grill pan is hot, brush generously with olive oil. Place the patties on the grill and flip after 3 to 4 minutes. If adding cheese, place a thin slice of cheese on the already grilled side of the patties. Cook for another 4 minutes.

A couple minutes before the patties are ready, place the opened hamburger buns on the upper part of the grill (or after you remove the patties, will be fine too!), and let them warm up.

Slather a generous tablespoon or so of the avocado spread on the bottom bun, place a patty on top, and put on the top part of the bun. Eat them while hot!

If you haven’t fallen for Jello, then you haven’t tried those in the Mexican repertoire. Forget about the 1950s-style-jello salads. Forget about the Jello you’ve seen people eat, or you may have eaten, in hospitals, too.

Mexican Jello is something to celebrate, to showcase, to boast about.

Gelatinas, in Spanish, many times come in individual servings with different flavors stacked in bright and colorful layers. Sold by street vendors who carry them in see through 2 to 3 tier covered stands, they are a common site in gas stations where cars wait for their turn and passersby can’t help but be tempted. Now you know why I always tagged along with my dad to fill up the tank!

It’s hard to show up at a kids party in Mexico and not see them. You will run into more sophisticated versions of them, standing tall, firm and proud at grown up parties, maybe with generous splashes of rum, tequila or rompope in their mix. There are simpler Jello creations brightening shelves at bakeries and grocery stores, too. In fact, Jello is such a big thing, that some cooks have elevated it to a complex art form with floral and abstract designs.

Most importantly, home-made Jello is a staple dessert in people’s homes. It is simple, easy to make and healthy: it can be tailored to use fresh seasonal ingredients.

The secret to this infinitum of possibilities with Jello is unflavored gelatin, which can be found in just about any grocery store: here and in China. Pick any ingredient, any flavor, and you can turn it into Jello.

Since I am going all out here, plus it is almost my son Juju’s birthday, I decided to translate one of our favorite cakes into Jello. Yup!

Remember Tres Leches Cake? Well, the first layer of my Spring-Time and Almost-Juju’s-Birthday-Jello is a Tres Leches Jello. Whole milk, evaporated milk and condensed milk turned into Jello (just follow my super simple recipe below!). The milks are quickly simmered to thicken, the result: rich, almost custardy like and so creamy.

I love serving Tres Leches Cake with strawberries, and Juju happens to be wild about strawberries, so my next layer has them. It is a Tres Leches Cake with Strawberries in Jello form. Fully. And decadently.

I have the berries swimming in a a Jello mix made with cranberry juice. It gives that layer a bright punch, a kick of refreshing tartness and more shine, which counterbalances the creamy Tres Leches layer.

I didn’t add any sugar to that fruit layer, because the Tres Leches layer has all the sweetness I think it needs. Plus, you are eating them together, one on top of the other.

Since you can do almost anything you want (no joke!) with Jello, I played and alternated. Some Jellos started with the Tres Leeches layer and others with the fruity one.

I chose plastic cups, because they are practical, you can see through, making it more colorful and irresistible. As a bonus, the servings are already pre measured. But you can choose many kinds of molds, individual or not.

It’s a good idea to place all your cups in a baking tray or sheet pan, so that when you move them in and out of the refrigerator they won’t shake much. You don’t have to take so many trips either.

So you prepare your mixes, in a snap. Pour your first layer and refrigerate until it firms up, then pour the second layer and let it firm up again.  You can go crazy and make thick layers, thin layers, 2 layers or 10 layers!

Sometimes experiments in the kitchen are a total failure and you just have to pick up the pieces and move on. But sometimes, it takes a few tries to get it right (this one took three tries!) and when you nail it, they become a treasure to share. If you feel you are onto something, don’t give up on the first try. Go for it, find a treasure and share it.

Here, this is a treasure I sought and found, and now it is yours too.

TRES LECHES AND STRAWBERRY JELLO
Gelatina de Tres Leches con Fresas
Makes 8 servings

INGREDIENTS
For the Tres Leches Jello:
1 cup whole milk (or 2 percent)
1 14oz can sweetened condensed milk
1 12oz can evaporated milk
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
2 envelopes unflavored gelatin (or about 2 tablespoons)
1/2 cup lukewarm water

For the Strawberry Jello:
2 cups cranberry or pomegranate juice
2 envelopes unflavored gelatin (or 2 tablespoons)
1/2 cup lukewarm water
½ lb strawberries, stemmed, rinsed and quartered

TO PREPARE
To prepare the Tres Leches Jello:
Bring 1 cup whole milk to a boil in a medium saucepan. Reduce heat to medium low and allow milk to simmer for 5 minutes. Add the sweetened condensed milk, evaporated milk, and vanilla extract and stir to combine. Increase heat to medium high to return to a simmer, then reduce to medium low and let simmer for 5 more minutes. Remove from heat and pour into a large mixing bowl.

*Pour 1/2 cup lukewarm water into a medium bowl and add 2 envelopes of unflavored gelatin. Stir until well combined, then let rest until the mixture puffs up (it will increase slightly in volume and appear as if it’s solidifying) – approximately 4 to 5 minutes. Fill a small saucepan with up to 2-3 inches of water, and bring to a simmer over medium low heat. Place the bowl with the puffed-up gelatin mixture onto the saucepan with the simmering water. Let it rest there, stirring occasionally, until the gelatin is completely dissolved and the mixture has a barely amber color – approximately 3 to 4 minutes. Remove from heat.

Pour the dissolved gelatin into the tres leches mixture and stir to combine.

To prepare the Strawberry Jello:
Pour the juice on to a large mixing bowl. Repeat step with * above. Pour the dissolved gelatin into the juice and stir to combine.

To layer your Tres Leches and Strawberry Jello:
In plastic cups or single-portion gelatin molds, use a liquid measuring cup or small pitcher to fill about 1/3 of the cup with tres leches mixture. Place the cups into the refrigerator until it solidifies (appears solid and does not slosh when moved), about 20 to 30 minutes. Do not put your remaining Tres Leches mixt and juice mix in the refrigerator.

Remove from the refrigerator and pour juice mixture on top to fill about another 1/3 of the cup and add some strawberry pieces. Return to the refrigerator and let it set for about 20 to 30 minutes.

You are at free will to play with your combinations! You can decide how many layers (one or ten!) and how thick or thin you want to make them. You can choose which flavor you want to start with or if you want to alternate. Continue until you are done using all of the flavored mixes. When done, return to the refrigerator, cover with plastic wrap and let chill for at least 2 hours before serving.

If you want to use a large 8 to 10 serving mold, fill with Tres Leches mix and refrigerate until set. Then pour strawberry mixture on top along with the fruit. Refrigerate for at least 2 hours before unmolding. It should be firm and not feel sticky or sag and should slide easily out of the mold with a few gentle shakes.

Hint: If your Jello mixtures start to solidify while you are waiting for layers to set in the refrigerator, not to worry! Adding a little at a time, stir water into the mixture until it becomes more liquid.

My family had been enthusiastic about it until recently: my husband announced last summer he’s had it. He won’t travel with me to Mexico when he wants us to vacation, together.

So when I suggested we go visit for the December holidays, he said “no, no, no Pati, you can’t control yourself there.”  I kept pursuing Mexico because I missed it so bad, seeking out a place where I wouldn’t be tempted to work. San Miguel de Allende sounded like just the spot.

San Miguel is a beautiful colonial town in the state of Guanajuato in central Mexico. It’s artsy, has a ton of history, gorgeous views of the mountains, quaint hotels and shops. There are a bunch of activities to do with the boys. But mostly, to my knowledge, it doesn’t have any regional food specialties to incite me to work. With this, I convinced him it was the perfect place to relax and, when it came to food, just enjoy it for once.

San Miguel is only a few hours by car from Mexico City, where we’d be picking up my mom who’d be joining us for a few days. It was in looking at the map to plan our drive that I noticed the city of Celeya is only a stone’s throw from San Miguel.

Oops!

Celeya is the birthplace of Cajeta: one of the most irresistible of Mexican sweets. I have wanted to go since I was like 5 years old.

Big OOPS!

I tried to contain my very desperate need to go to Celaya the first day we were in San Miguel. As I got out of bed on the second day, the escapade to Celaya was already on the works.

Cajeta is a caramel-like concoction, yet more milky and silky, and with a deep, rustic and almost nutty flavor. It’s Mexico’s version of Dulce de Leche, yet we pride ourselves in that Cajeta came to be long before Dulce de Leche and we tend to make ours with goat’s milk (or a combination of goat and cow’s milk) rather than only cow’s milk and ours has a much more intricate and richer taste.

Thankfully, the dynamic woman in charge of San Miguel tourism office has friends and family in Celaya. She knew who to ask and help organize exactly where to go: La Tradicional de Salgado.

The storefront has sweets made with or combined with Cajeta along with other traditional sweets. The side of the store, is reserved for Cajeta.

At La Tradicional, Cajeta continues to be made the way they started making it in 1860, which happens to be the most traditional way. They make a small quantity, which is sold immediately after, and sometimes even before, it is bottled.

They have Cajeta de Vainilla (vanilla flavored and the lightest in color), Cajeta Quemada (translates to burnt and it is the darkest in color and flavor), and Cajeta Envinada (translates to flavored with wine but rather than wine it is flavored  with rum).

As the manager Andrés López explained, all Cajetas at La Tradicional begin the same, yet they don’t end the same.

They all start with 40 liters of fresh goat milk poured into a gigantic copper pot and mixed with brown sugar. It is then brought to a steady simmer at 120 degrees for most of the cooking time. If it will be vanilla flavored, then vanilla extract gets added. If it will be Envinada, then a generous splash of rum goes in.  If it will be burnt, it is just like the vanilla one, yet it is cooked double the time (about 9 hours instead of 4 or 5), to achieve a much more concentrated flavor and thicker consistency: to the point where if it was left to simmer for a minute longer it would practically burn.

They always use those copper pots that get cleaned after each use and gigantic wooden spatulas. No metal spoons or utensils to stir the milk, as copper is a very reactive material and Cajeta a sensitive product.

Those wooden spatulas are used to stir the milk regularly as it cooks down. The heat is left at a steady temperature to have a consistent medium simmer, adjusting the temperature as the Cajeta reduces.

They know Cajeta is ready first, by judging for the design it leaves on the wooden tool: see the waves above? They have to show up after you stir and raise the spatula. Also, the mixture has to be thicker, like caramel! Lastly, as you stir the pot with the wooden spatula, there has to be a delayed trail behind the spatula, that allows you to see the bottom of the pot if only for an instant.

The Cajeta is left to gently cool. The glass jars are filled up, immediately closed and turned upside down. This creates a vacuum seal.

At La Tradicional, they switched the bottle design 30 years ago. It used to be plain and round. They wanted a change that made it look a bit more dressy. I say they look pretty dressed up!

We tasted all the Cajetas and so many sweets. We stirred the pots, with our heads covered in protective nets and talked to everyone in the store. We all came out with our very favorite one and Juju managed to eat an entire small jar of the vanilla kind, by the spoonful.

As we walked outside, we found a city brimming with food wonders. We ate some of the best Empanadas we have ever tried in a place that had, oh, about, 100 people waiting in line: there were about 30 different kinds! Half a block ahead we ate some outrageous Gorditas, thin and large, they were stuffed with either spicy queso fresco or Almidón (which I had never tried: the inner part of the Chicharrón). Our Celaya hosts brought Duraznos Prensados (Sweet pressed apricots) for us to try as well as Pastes (gummy-jelly soft squares) with such exotic flavors as guava and Rompope.

One of the biggest treats: see that red stand in that photo above? The woman in charge was selling Celaya made copper pots, one more beautiful than the other. After much chatting and measuring the different sizes, I bought my very own, which I carried all the way back to DC, to start making this Cajeta below, so that you can also, make your very own.

Here we go!

There’s my big copper pot, but you can use any wide bottomed and tall pot. Goat’s milk (you can choose to combine it with or use all cow’s milk, but goat’s milk gives it that delicious musky flavor…), dark brown sugar (or shredded piloncillo) and Mexican vanilla.

Also, add baking soda: it helps the final sweet to not have any lumps and it enhances the brown color. This coloring effect is called a Maillard reaction, as described by Merriam-Webster dictionary, it is “a nonenzymatic reaction between sugars and proteins that occurs upon heating and that produces browning of some foods.”

Bring it all to medium simmer, over a steady medium heat. Use a wooden spoon to stir occasionally.

After hours you can see how much the mixture has reduced and the more it reduces the more the simmer will increase even if you maintain it in the same level of heat, so you have to moderate and reduce the heat.

You know when to stop, when the Cajeta has thickened like caramel, its drops take their time to let go of the wooden spoon once it is raised, once you see a delayed trail in the bottom of the pot as you gently move the spoon across the pot and you can see the bottom if only for a second, and the Cejeta leaves wavy marks on the spoon.

Also, your house must be smelling like heaven by now.

Let it cool, and take note that it will thicken as it cools.

Pour it all in a large jar that will hold at least three cups.

I liked these photos, so I kept taking more and more… see the color of the sun hitting the pot and the Cajeta? The light  couldn’t have been more generous that afternoon…

And there you go…

Cajeta is not only decadent, luxurious, with a perfectly balanced sweetness and a silky texture, it is also ideal for using with… everything! Crepes, chocoflan, to smear on pound cake, to dip fruit such as strawberries or bananas in. Wait! There’s more! You can make cute little cookie sandwiches (with Maria cookies, graham crackers or vanilla wafers, you can make smoothies and milk shakes, ice creams and glazes. The best way of all: just dip a big tablespoon and lick it off.

And now that I remember, our friends in Celaya told us about some cookies made with Cajeta called Dulce Anhelo (translates to sweet yearning). And since I didn’t get to try them, what a sweet yearning it has become. Celaya: wait for me, I will be back for more.

p.s Don’t want to make your cajeta?  Buy it at the store! There is also another way to make Cajeta starting with a can of sweet condensed milk, I will post that one with photos soon…

HOMEMADE CAJETA
Cajeta Casera
Makes about 3 cups

INGREDIENTS
8 cups, or 2 liters goat milk, you can substitute or combine with cow’s milk
2 ½ cups dark brown sugar or shredded piloncillo
1 tablespoon vanilla extract
½ teaspoon baking soda

TO PREPARE
Place a large pot (I use my new copper one!) over medium heat. Pour milk, vanilla, sugar and baking soda, give it a good stir and let it come to a simmer. Keep it at a steady medium simmer for about one hour and a half, stirring occasionally, every 15 to 20 minutes or so, with a wooden spatula or spoon. The mix will gradually thicken and darken.

After about an hour and a half, the liquid will have thickened and reduced and the simmer will become stronger. Reduce the heat to medium low, to keep it at that constant medium simmer. You want active bubbling, but not over the top angry bubbles. Stir a bit more frequently, as you don’t want the bottom to develop a thicker layer.

You know the Cajeta is ready when: It achieves a caramel brown color;  it is thick as liquid caramel or syrup, much like a chocolate syrup consistency; it envelops the back of the spoon; when you gently stir across the pot with your wooden spoon, a slightly delayed trail behind the spoon appears, revealing the bottom of the pot if only for a few seconds; as you slowly lift up the wooden spoon or spatula, Cajeta takes it’s time to drop and lastly, the sides of the pot show how the Cajeta has cooked down and if you run your spoon across that side, you get a fudgy (and delicious) residue.

Turn off the heat and let cool (it will thicken considerably as it cools).

Place in a glass jar, cover tightly with a lid. It will keep in refrigerator for up to 6 months.

With that in mind, I made a full batch last Saturday to bring to a friend’s house. So thrilled were the boys, and I, with the packets as they came out of the oven (crispy on top, soft layers of barely sweet dough as you get close to the middle and a rich tasting filling) that by the time we put our jackets on, and I went back to the kitchen to transfer the empanadas from the baking sheet to a platter, I gasped at the sight of the only two remaining…

Lessons learned:

1. Make a double batch.

2. If you don’t, refrain from telling your friends about the fabulous thing you prepared but couldn’t bring because you finished it before hopping in the car. They won’t like it.

A simple way to describe an empanada is a turnover-looking packet stuffed with one or another kind of filling. The story goes that they’ve existed since the Spanish Crusades as they were perfect travel food. It was the Spaniards who brought them to Mexico.

From the Spanish word “empanar,” which can translate as “the act of covering something with bread or bread dough,” aside from practical, they are also versatile. They can go from mini to giant, from savory to sweet, from a tasty appetizer or funky main meal to a sweet bite, depending on the fillings.

I can think of three things that distinguish empanadas from quesadillas. First, quesadillas aren’t sweet. And, whereas quesadillas are made with flour or corn dough (or flour or corn tortillas) empanadas are made with flour dough. That doesn’t make empanada variations limited. Oh no. There are as many fillings and as many flour doughs as one can think of. One of the fluffiest ones are made with puff pastry, called hojaldre in Spanish.

Delightful, because as it bakes, the seemingly flat dough develops its multilayered structure: paper-thin layers of dough puff up with air, and delicious butter, in between them.

You can make your own puff pastry or simply buy it at the frozen section at the store. Just be sure to thaw before you roll out.

Then make rounds. You can make them as big or as little as you like. Here I am cutting 5” rounds. Brush with egg wash (just a beaten mix of egg and water) around the edges. Then add the filling.

A second difference between empanadas and quesadillas is that it is pretty hard to find a quesadilla that is sweet, for a good reason. Whereas not only are there plenty of sweet empanadas but even when they are savory, they have a sweet element to them, like the Tuna Minilla that is going in here….

Minilla is a very popular way of cooking fresh fish and also canned tuna along the Mexican Pacific Coast, especially in Veracruz.

It is so tasty and its flavor shows the impact that kitchens in Veracruz received from it being a port of entry to the Spaniards. It has a base of cooked onion, garlic, plenty of tomatoes, pickled jalapeños, along with the capers, olives, raisins and herbs the Spaniards brought. Pretty much like the Fish a la Veracruzana style. The sauce gets cooked until moist and the flavors have been completely absorbed and combined.

You can eat Minilla as a main dish on top of rice. You can use it to make sandwiches or tortas. But my favorite way to use it is inside of empanadas. And I like to add generous amounts…

Then seal the empanadas by folding the circle over the filling. Then use a fork to not only decorate the edges but to seal them even better. In Mexico, many cooks know a fancy technique of decorating and sealing the edges of the empanadas so they look like encaje or embroidery. I go with the good old fork….

The third thing that distinguishes empanadas from quesadillas, is that empanadas are mostly baked. Not fried or cooked over the stovetop on a comal or skillet.

Once in the oven, the puff pastry layers do what they must… puff and puff and puff, the top crisps, the middle gets moist, and the filling bonds with the packet.

Off you go!

TUNA TURNOVERS
Empanadas de Minilla de Atún
Makes about 16 empanadas

INGREDIENTS
For the filling:
¼ cup vegetable oil
¾ cup chopped white onion
1 finely chopped garlic clove
1½ pounds chopped ripe tomatoes, or about 6 roma tomatoes
2 7oz cans tuna, drained and shredded
2 bay leaves
1 teaspoon brown sugar
½ teaspoon dried oregano
½ teaspoon dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon kosher or sea salt, or to taste
1/4 cup roughly chopped raisins
1/4 cup roughly chopped manzanilla olives stuffed with pimientos
1/4 cup seeded and roughly chopped pickled jalapeño chiles, store bought or make your own, more to taste
1 tablespoon capers
3 tablespoons chopped Italian or flat-leaf parsley

To form the empanadas:
1 egg
2 tablespoons water
1 1.2 pound package frozen puff pastry, thawed, or homemade puff pastry

TO PREPARE
In a large skillet, heat the oil over medium heat. Once hot, but not smoking, stir in the onion and cook until it is soft and translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic, stir, and cook until fragrant, about 1 minute. Stir in the chopped tomatoes and cook, stirring often, until completely cooked, softened and mashed up and pasty looking, about 15 minutes.

Toss in the tuna and with a spatula or fork, mix it well with the tomato mix, making sure there are no big chunks. Add the bay leaves, sugar, oregano, thyme, salt and mix well. Add the raisins, olives, pickled jalapenos, capers, fresh parsley and mix well. Cover the skillet and reduce the heat to medium-low. Cook for about 10 minutes, the mixture should be very moist but not too watery. Taste for salt and add more if needed. Remove the bay leaves and set aside.

Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. Preheat oven to 350. In a small mixing bowl beat the egg along with the water.

Gently flour your countertop and rolling pin and roll out one thawed sheet of pastry to about 1/8” thick. Cut out 5” to 6” rounds with a cookie cutter or anything that can act as a mold. With a pastry brush, brush the edges of the rounds with the egg wash. Spoon about 2 tablespoons of tuna in the center of each round, fold as a turnover or quesadilla to make a half moon, pushing the tuna inside of the empanada at the same time as you press the edges of the dough to seal it. Gently press the edge with the tip of a fork, this will act as decoration but also help seal the edges. Place the empanada on a lined baking sheet and repeat with the rest of the rounds and the second sheet of puff pastry. When all empanadas are formed, brush their tops with the remaining egg wash.

Place them in the oven and bake for about 30 minutes, until crisp, puffed up and golden brown.

When you first bite into it, you go through a soft layer with grainy texture that tastes like a moist version of marzipan. But as your teeth sink in they hit the hard crust of a buttery cookie that breaks into the crunchiest of chunks in your mouth. It makes for such tasty contrast that you have to take more bites to understand their beauty. Since one cookie doesn’t explain it, you will reach for another one…

There you go! Another sweet concoction from the nuns of the Santa Clara convent in Puebla whose recipe has been passed down for over a dozen generations. Together with the nuns from Santa Rosa Convent (where Mole Poblano is believed to have been invented) and Santa Monica Convent (where many say Chiles en Nogada come from) they are much to blame for the baroque foods, which mixed European and Mexican ingredients with much passion and devotion, that shaped the cuisine of this city – and has made it an epicenter of gastronomy in Mexico.

Yet it was the nuns from Santa Clara who were most famous for their sweets. You can read what the plaque says outside of the standing convent which shut its doors long ago but left behind a strong legacy and a trail of sweets.

You can eat most of these sweets in the two block-stretch that makes La Calle de los Dulces “The Sweets Street” where the convent stands. There are sweets shops lined one after another selling truckloads of them.

We went down there this spring to film the Puebla Episode for Season Two. I stood on the street in awe and a bit confused (and hurried by the production company too) not knowing which store to choose from and wanting to sample every kind of sweet from them all.

The cookies are sold individually wrapped so the base won’t crack and the thick nutty glaze won’t spread. They come in three sizes: gigantic, normal and small. And yes, I ate the cookies that are missing from this beautiful Talavera platter below, while standing right in the middle of the street, telling the producer that I really needed to eat a few before being able to talk about them in front of the camera.

If you saw the episode, you saw me eating them!

So unique are these cookies, that there are special Santa Clara cookie molds to make them in that exact shape in one swift press. There is also a laborious technique for making the glaze. However, I have tested versions galore in my kitchen and I have a genuine and true short cut that makes any round cookie mold work and an easy way to get the same glaze.

Let’s begin with the glaze.

Traditionally, it is made with Pumpkin Seeds (some companies have gotten away with making the glaze with confectioners sugar, but connoisseurs know not to be tricked!). The thing is, since the Colonial era, the Spanish nuns were keen on making the sweets they knew from back home but with Mexican ingredients. So the pumpkin seeds took their turn in marzipan instead of almonds, hence the Dulce de Pepita. It was a success. The next step was to use this sweet to coat a cookie.

Yet, the laborious part of making the glaze is that pumpkin seeds once hulled are green. Be it for their spiritual beliefs, obsession with purity, or wanting to use same technique as blanching and peeling the almonds for marzipan, the nuns found a way to remove the super thin skins that are completely stuck to the seeds until the seeds reach a shinny ivory white.

To begin with, hulling the seeds out of the outer thick shell is time consuming, we are lucky they are sold already hulled. This thing of removing the thin green skin just complicates it much further…

To make the glaze like the nuns, you have to soak the seeds overnight either with slaked lime, ashes or baking powder. Then you have to rub them with your hands to peel away the thin skin. But since that won’t remove the skin all the way, you have to rinse and rub them between clean kitchen towels, many times, until they are completely ivory white.

I am one to have patience in the kitchen, but I don’t think I have the patience of Santa Clara nuns…

I don’t know if the nuns knew then just how healthy and nutritious the pumpkin seed skin is. But if you leave it on, you have a glaze that is just as fabulous but with a light green color. Of course you can test your patience and try the technique for making them ivory white, but if you insist on making a white glaze and don’t want to spend the hours rubbing the seeds, you can substitute the green pumpkin seeds for white slivered almonds!

Whichever nut or seed you decide to use, peeled or not, you need to grind them in a food processor or blender. That is easy enough if you don’t have to peel them… The rest also goes easy as pie.

Make a syrup by mixing water and sugar in a medium sauce pan.

Once the sugar dissolves, let it thicken to a light syrup, about 10 minutes. See below, just until the syrup drops begin taking their time letting go of the wooden spoon.

Add the ground seeds or nuts and mix with the syrup and cook for about 3 to 4 minutes. Lastly, add a splash of milk. It makes the glaze be shinny and beautiful, almost like a mirror where you can reflect your soul in: just like the nuns liked it!

Then you make the cookies.

If you go to Puebla and find a special Santa Clara Cookie mold that’s great! If you don’t, fear not. Spread the dough and grab a round cookie cutter.

I like a 3″ round.

Cut the circles.

Then use the cookie cutter next size down… Press inside each circle, but don’t go all the way down. That will give you a border to decorate but also a boundary for the glaze to be contained.

Decorate around the border with a fork.

Bake the cookies.

Let them cool completely and add the thick glaze on top. Wait until both the cookies and the glaze have cooled down or the glaze will run all over the cookies. You can make both things ahead of time…

Which cookie tastes better, the one made with thoroughly peeled pumpkin seeds or the one with the un-peeled pumpkin seeds? Both! They are just as good. And the one made with almonds, too.

Which one looks prettier?

As it is well said: Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder. You choose. In any case, don’t wait to get to Puebla, until you do, give these a try.

Tortitas de Santa Clara
Makes 24 3 inch round cookies

INGREDIENTS
For the dough
1 stick unsalted butter (4oz), at room temperature, sliced
1 cup confectioners’ sugar
1/4 teaspoon baking powder
3 cups flour, plus more for rolling out the dough
3 egg yolks
1/2 cup lukewarm water

For the glaze
2 cups sugar
1/2 cup water
3 cups hulled and unsalted pumpkin seeds, may substitute with blanched and slivered almonds
1/2 cup milk

To blanch the pumpkin seeds
1/2 teaspoon baking powder or baking soda

TO PREPARE
To Prepare Dough

In the bowl of a mixer, beat the butter over medium speed until creamy. Reduce speed to lowest setting and gently add the confectioners’ sugar and baking powder. Continue mixing until everything is incorporated. Add the flour, one cup at a time, and then the egg yolks one at a time; continue beating for a minute. Pour in the water and continue mixing until the dough is smooth and can form a ball (it will take less than a minute). Wrap the dough in plastic wrap and place it in the refrigerator. Let it cool until it hardens enough to be manageable, at least 1/2 hour (the dough can be kept in the refrigerator for up to a couple days).

When ready to bake, preheat the oven to 375 degrees and cover a baking sheet with parchment paper. Place half of the dough on a piece of lightly floured parchment paper, sprinkle some flour over it and then place another piece of parchment paper on top. Use a rolling pin to gently roll out the dough, spreading it evenly about 1/4″ thick. Remove the top piece of parchment paper and cut out circles with a round, 3″ cookie cutter. With a smaller cookie cutter, make a circular indention in the middle of each cookie, without cutting all the way through the dough (there should be about a 1/4″ space between the indentation and the edge). Press the edges of each cookie with a fork as if marking the edges of a pie. Repeat the process with the remaining dough and roll it out again making as many cookies as possible.

Space the cookies at least 1/4″ apart on a cookie sheet and bake for about 10 minutes, until they are fully cooked and the bottoms are lightly browned. Remove from the oven and let cool; repeat with the remaining cookies.

To Prepare Glaze

Like the Nuns: Bring water to a boil in a small saucepan, add pumpkin seeds, simmer about 5 minutes and turn off the heat. Let it cool, stir in baking soda or powder and let it sit over night. With your hands, rub the pumpkin seeds between your fingers and thumbs to try to release their skins. The skins will float in the water. Carefully pour out the water, cover again with clean water and drain again. With a slotted spatula, place the pumpkin seeds on a clean kitchen towel, rubbing them so the remaining skins come entirely off. Place the seeds in a bowl, cover them with water, rinse and place them on a towel to dry.

Like ME: You can skip this part and use normal hulled pumpkin seeds or blanched almonds.

In a medium saucepan, place the sugar and 1/4 cup of water over medium low heat. Cook, keeping a close eye on it, until the sugar has completely melted into the water and appears to be a happily bubbling syrup (which should take anywhere from 8 to 10 minutes). Add the ground pumpkin seeds or almonds and stir well, creating a thick paste. Let the mixture cook for another 3 to 4 minutes –it will thicken and become even more pasty. Turn off the heat, pour the milk and stir well. It should be thick yet shiny and liquid. Remove the mixture from the heat and let it cool slightly. Use it to top the cookies but before it hardens. If it does harden, just heat the mixture over low heat with a tablespoon of water until it becomes runny again.

Once the cookies are no longer warm to the touch, add the cooled candied pumpkin seed or almond glaze on top with a spoon. 1 to 1 1/2 teaspoons of glaze is more than enough, it spreads as it settles.

It turns out, fifteen years later, the Thanksgiving feast has become such a relevant part of our lives that if we ever moved back to Mexico, I’d have to bring it back with us.

The connection wasn’t instantaneous. Slowly, some elements began to resonate within me. Take the bird: Turkey is an indigenous ingredient in Mexican cookery and a center piece for Christmas and the New Year. Both are holidays which also happen near the end of the year, during the coldest season, and have to do with gathering family and friends around a plentiful table. And being thankful. And hopeful.

Regardless of the many recommended takes on turkey I tried, it wasn’t until I came up with my own Mexican version (it’s in my new cookbook please get it!) that the Thanksgiving turkey felt like part of our home and our home grew deeper roots in the United States.

Now my Mexican turkey is part of the Thanksgiving menu, we eat every year with our same dear American friends, along with Debra’s butternut squash soup; Tamara’s fennel, pear and parmesan salad; Sean’s changing sides (as my turkey replaced his, he is finding his way on the sides territory – sorry Sean, but you’re the one who chose mine…); Viviana and Mario’s very berry sauce; and David’s chocolate pecan pie and home made ice creams.

This year, I have some sweet potato rounds with a punch to share.

I realize the Thanksgiving menu has a permanent side to it: dishes that become part of it tend to be recurring for decades and very few get added or replaced along the way.

I envision these sweet potato rounds will have the same fate as my turkey: repeated appearances and a big chance of permanent status.

Just like turkey, sweet potatoes are so familiar to me. Called Camote in Spanish, from the náhuatl Camotli, they’ve been part of Mexico’s culinary lingo since pre-Hispanic times.

Mostly eaten cloaked in sugar or with a sweet spin, baked or roasted, they are culturally linked to the figure of the Camotero, a street vendor selling warm and soft sweet potatoes and plantains to order on a pushing cart, that moves around the city on cold evenings, turning people’s cravings on with the tune of its piercing whistle sound.

Here in the US, I’ve come up with a speedy, savory, irresistible take that can be a companion to whatever you may serve on your Thanksgiving table and will perk up the entire meal.

The best part: this will be a stress-free dish. It takes only four basic ingredients and it can be eaten warm, lukewarm or completely cooled.

Just slice the sweet potatoes into rounds, you can do that ahead of time. Brush them with a combination of melted unsalted butter and olive oil. Yes, please use both, it tastes so good, trust me.

Generously sprinkle Tají­n Clásico to cover on both sides. I’ve eaten this mix since I can remember. It has five different ground dried chiles: some sweet, some smoky, some bitter-sweet, some rustic, some spicy. A completely balanced blend that gets the addition of lime and salt, but no artificial additives. As if it was homemade, but they make it for you!

In fact, it is so good that the top reads, “this is not a candy,” to prevent you from finishing a bottle in a minute. It is so good, that I have been after them for years, hoping that they would collaborate with me on what has become my life’s mission: sharing Mexican food and culture across the border. Lucky for me, they are now available throughout the US.

The rounds will fly off of your platter, so bake plenty: they are thin and soft with a sweet bite on the inside, and lightly crispy on the outside with that lightly spicy, deliciously tart and barely salty seasoning.

It is during Thanksgiving when I most realize how fully Mexican I can be in the United States, and how much the US has grown on me. And I feel immensely thankful.

Having come from Mexican grandparents who were once immigrants too, who made their home in Mexico, missing my Mexican parents and family, and now raising my Mexican-American family in the US… now I get it!

Just like so many people, I can’t be pigeonholed. And rather than feeling at a loss, I relish in the diversity of it all.

Wishing you a happy and plentiful Thanksgiving (with some punchy bites).

SWEET POTATO ROUNDS WITH A PUNCH
Serves 4 to 6

INGREDIENTS
2 pounds sweet potatoes
2 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 tablespoons olive oil
Tají­n Clásico Seasoning

TO PREPARE
Rinse and peel the sweet potatoes. Slice them into thin rounds of about ¼ inch.

Place oven racks on lower and upper thirds. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

In a small saucepan melt the butter over low heat. Once it melts pour in the olive oil, combine and remove from the heat.

Brush the butter/oil mix onto the bottom of two large baking sheets. Place the sweet potato rounds in a single layer. Brush the tops with more of the butter/oil mix. Sprinkle generously with Tají­n Classic Seasoning. Flip rounds on to the other side and sprinkle generously with Tají­n. Place in the oven for about 20 minutes, or until they have started to brown. Remove baking sheets. With a set of tongs or a pair of forks, flip the sweet potato rounds. Place back in the oven for 12 to 15 minutes more, until they have browned on both sides. Don’t let them burn.

Remove them from the oven. As they cool a little, their edges will crisp a bit more. Serve hot or not: either way they are delicious!

One of the most meaningful, colorful and delicious of Mexican celebrations, Dí­a de Muertos has this bread as one of its trademark treats. It may sound strange to eat fluffy sugared up bread in the shape of bones, but then again, we also eat calaveritas, candies in the shape of skulls. This shows how crucial food is for Mexicans but also how it gets infused with our sarcastic sense of humor, generous spirit and gutsy attitude.

Not that Day of the Dead is such a big occasion here in the United States, but I notice an increased awareness. Teachers are starting to talk about it in schools, sugar skulls and decorations are popping up in stores…It’s becoming trendy. As it happens right on the tail of Halloween, elements from both celebrations seem to cross paths. They both include graveyards and a lot of eating, but they are quite different.

Day of the Dead, which is not one but two days, November 1st and 2nd, is when those departed have a license to come back and visit the ones they’ve left behind. And hey, if they are coming back from another world, it better be a feast worth the trip! Altars are decorated, filled with the visitor’s favorite foods and drinks, candles and flowers placed throughout, to help illuminate for a safe journey back home. There are visits to the cemetery, too, but of a different nature than Halloween: Day of the Dead is a bittersweet, sad and joyous time for gathering, feasting and remembering.

Pan de Muerto, has to be one of the sweetest sides of it, eagerly awaited by all.

Those who have tried it want it, as it is really irresistible. But there are
not that many panaderí­as that make it outside of Mexico.

Well, guess what? Wait no more, you can make your own.

It is simple to do; the only downside is, it takes time. The dough needs to rise…four times, and one of them is overnight in the fridge. So if you want your Pan de Muerto for Friday, start it on Thursday.

First make your starter: a small leavened mix. I make mine by mixing dry yeast (oldest versions of Pan de Muerto use Pulque, a fermented drink) with lukewarm milk, not too hot and not too cold, to make it easy for the yeast to react. Fully dissolve and add a bit of flour, to get the yeast going on stronger. When it puffs up and has bubbled on the surface, about 20 to 30 minutes later, you have your starter.

That’s the first rise.

Then make your dough in the mixer with butter, sugar and eggs. I add orange blossom water, as is traditional in many parts of Mexico and the old fashioned way. It gives it a perfumed feel, a nice sort of fragrance halo. I also add a bit of orange zest and anise seeds, which perfume it even more. Once mixed, beat in the starter. Cover it and place it in a bowl.

It’s better if you leave it in a warm area of your kitchen where there are no drafts, close to the oven or burners is a good idea, too. Leavened bread likes warmth and moisture, so much so, that I have gotten into the habit of placing a bowl with boiling water right next to the bowl with the dough and then cover it all together (in case you were wondering about the two bowls under the kitchen towel above).

Then leave it to rise.

See how it puffed up in photo above? Almost tripled its volume.

That’s the second rise.

Then punch it back down. Just like that, make some fists and punch it twice.

Cover it with plastic wrap and place it in the refrigerator so that it will slowly but surely rise again, overnight. While you sleep, that dough will be getting ready for you.

See below?? Look how it rose again!

This time it was even bubblier and a bit stringy.

This is the third rise. Next day, morning sun.

Then as you gather it into a ball, it will deflate in size, but you can see below how the dough has transformed and strands of dough are trying to stick to the bowl.

The dough ends up being shinny, sticky, compact…

Grab two thirds to shape like a ball and place it over a buttered or oiled surface. I like using this pizza stone.

You leave a third of the dough apart, to decorate the ball with a couple of ropes and a ball on top. And then.. you cover it and let it rise again under a towel.

And so it rose, under the towel!

In the oven it goes.

Lastly, when it comes out, it is entirely brushed with melted butter and covered in sugar. Some people add more complex decorations, like colored sugar or make intricate shapes. I like it straightforward with plain granulated white sugar and a round shape.

By mid morning the next day, you will have a Pan de Muerto ready to slice.

So, yes, it takes time, it has to rise many times, but every time it rises again you will feel a huge sense of accomplishment and satisfaction… And as you bake it, maybe you will find like me, that whoever is around in the house will start lurking in the kitchen to eat whatever it is that has such an irresistible aroma.

Maybe you will find, also like me, that it was well worth the wait.

I didn’t know if to add this recipe into dessert, or anytime antojos, as you can eat it as both. But as it is so deliciously sweet, I left it in the former. If you make it, you tell me where it should be.

PAN DE MUERTO

INGREDIENTS
½ cup lukewarm whole milk
2 packages active dry yeast (¼ oz each), or about 4 heaped teaspoons
½ cup all purpose flour, plus 3½ cups for later on
¼ cup unsalted butter at room temperature, plus more to grease the bowl, and 2 tablespoons to melt and brush on top
½ cup granulated sugar to make the dough, plus ½ cup for dusting the bread
6 large eggs, at room temperature
2 tablespoons orange blossom water, or plain water
1 teaspoon anise seeds, optional
1 teaspoon orange zest, optional
Pinch kosher or coarse sea salt

TO PREPARE
In a small bowl, pour the lukewarm milk -making sure that it is not hot nor cold or the yeast will not react- and stir in the dry yeast granules. Give the yeast a couple minutes to sit in the liquid, and stir with a spatula until it is thoroughly and evenly dissolved. Give it time: stir a little, pressing gently on the yeast that has not yet dissolved with the spatula, give it a bit more time to sit in the milk, stirring again, press again. Once it has completely and evenly dissolved, add ½ cup flour. Mix it combining thoroughly, until it has no lumps. It will be gooey, runny and sticky. Leave it in the warmest area of your kitchen, for about 20 to 30 minutes, until it puffs up (to about double or triple its volume) and has bubbled on top. I like to place a sauce pan or cup with boiling hot water right next to it, but its not necessary.

In the bowl of a mixer, over medium low speed, beat the butter until soft. Add the sugar and beat until combined and fluffy. Add one egg at a time. Once eggs are incorporated, add the milk and yeast mixture. Then adding ½ cup at a time, add the rest of the flour (3 ½ cups). Stir in the orange blossom water if using and if not, add plain water. Also add the anise seeds and a pinch of salt. The dough will look wet, runny and sticky, but continue beating anywhere from 7 to 10 minutes, until all the dough comes off the sides of the mixing bowl. It will be elastic and sticky, but it will hold itself together.

Butter a large mixing bowl that can hold the dough, and will be able to hold it as it doubles or triples its volume. Place the dough in the bowl, cover it with a cloth or clean kitchen towel and leave it in the warmest area of your kitchen, that is draft free, making sure that it is not next to a window or door that gets opened. Leave it to rest and puff up anywhere from 2 to 3 hours, until it doubles its volume at least.

Punch the dough with your fist, flip it over, cover with plastic wrap and place in the refrigerator over night. The next day, remove the plastic wrap, place a cloth or kitchen towel on top and let it to come to room temperature.

Take off a third of the dough to make the bread decorations: make a 1 to 2-inch ball and use the rest to make 2 ropes. They need not be smooth nor perfect, as the dough is quite sticky, and no need to worry they will look beautiful once the bread is baked (and covered with sugar).

Butter a baking sheet or a bread or pizza stone, and make a ball with the rest of the dough. Place it in the center of the baking sheet and flatten it a bit on top. Place the dough ropes making a criss-cross -Mexican bakers usually shape the ropes to resemble bones, having thicker and thinner parts- and the ball on the top, right where they cross. Cover the bread with a cloth or kitchen towel, and let it rise and puff up again, for 1 to 2 hours.

Preheat the oven to 350. Bake the bread for for about 40 minutes. Halfway through baking, after about 20 minutes, cover the loaf with parchment paper or aluminum foil to prevent it from browning too much.

When they are ready, they sound “huecas”, or hollow, if you hit the bottom of the bread.

Melt the butter and brush all over the bread. Sprinkle sugar all over until completely covered.

Doesn’t matter what time of day, what season of the year, what place I’m in, if I want tasty comfort my entire self craves a big bowl of soup.

As far as soups go, I have concocted some, I religiously repeat some I grew up eating, and then there are others I’ve become enamored with as I’ve ventured deeper into my home country’s cuisine.

As soon as my feet touch new territory, I search for its signature soup: the one everyone knows; the one everyone loves; the one present at every home kitchen. As easy as it may sound, sometimes those soups stir away from restaurants. Luckily, the first meal we had during our trip to Chiapas included that soup.

It was at a touristy restaurant serving a regional specialties buffet. The broth was thick and brimming with Chipilí­n, an herb with a grassy taste (like a mellow version of spinach or a gentle variation of watercress) and a silky delicate bite. The best part of the soup was the corn masa dumplings, dfferent from other I’ve tried, these had queso fresco mixed in the masa or dough, resulting in fluffier balls with a deep soft bite.

A couple days later, I bought a big bowl of Chipilí­n soup at a small fonda in Chamula. I sat on the sidewalk and ate it as I watched the church procession pass by.

The Church of San Juan Chamula is one of Mexico’s most famous: probably the most controversial as well, for its wildly eclectic combination of indigenous, pagan and Catholic rituals. Not to mention it’s particular architecture and decorations.

This second version of the soup was lighter, yet it had much more color, like the doors in the photo above. A bit of tomato spiked the broth and I tasted a bit of green heat. Don’t ask me why it didn’t occur to me to take a photo of the soup. Instead, I took photos of the Señores below.

Tzotzil Mayas, which form part of one of the twelve indigenous groups that live in this state, were getting ready to walk in the procession, with their unique attire made with goatskin. Some men wear black, some wear white…and the women make skirts in the same style.

If you have never heard “Tzotzil”, a Maya language, you have missed listening to one of the sweetest sounds. As delicate as those Chipilí­n leaves…

Ok, back to the soup. That same day, I tried a third version.

A short ride away we landed in a restaurant with a sumptuous buffet that was different from the first. This one boasted a larger display of typical dishes from the region. Their Chipilí­n soup had a much clearer broth, as if the masa dumplings had been cooked separately from the final soup and incorporated in the end. It had less Chipilí­n leaves in the broth, making it look more elegant and light, and there was queso fresco to add as a garnish, as well as Mexican crema and small pieces of chicharrón.

I tried a fourth version in a restaurant near the Palenque ruins (which can take anyone’s breath away and I am just adding more photos of the ruins because I can’t help myself…)

…let me indulge… and yes I climbed up so high to look at that view…

… here is a close up…

Alright, back to the soup. This one had the smallest of masa balls, and different than the soups before, aside from having Chipilí­n in the broth, there was a generous amount of Chipilí­n chopped into the masa balls. It also had extra garnishes of more queso fresco and thick Mexican cream. But no chicharrón.

I did think about other things than trying more versions of the Chipilí­n soup and other foods I had no idea existed (which I will write about in other blog posts). Especially when we had the chance to learn about the insanely gorgeous textiles made in Chiapas…

Once at San Cristobal de las Casas, I tried one last version of the soup in one of the restaurants in that busy street below. This soup included corn kernels in the broth. The contrast of that sweet crunch next to the soft masa balls in the flavored broth worked so well!

No. I did not take a photo of it, because I didn’t know I was going to write about all the Chipilí­n soups I tried in Chiapas! Of course now I wish I had.

The good thing is that here is a recipe for you to try the soup.

You can find Chipilí­n in the US these days, especially in Latin markets in the Summer and Fall. I just found some at Panam market in DC.

It looks like this. It is so pretty I put a big bunch in a flower vase and admired it as I ate it away and the bunch kept getting thinner.

Here is a close up, so you can see just how delicate the leaves are…

If you can’t find it, you can substitute it with sliced baby spinach or watercress.

The recipe I am giving you here, was tested in my kitchen until I nailed down all the elements I enjoyed in the different versions: fluffy masa balls flavored with cheese, an abundance of Chipilí­n leaves in the broth but not in the masa balls, sweet crunchy corn seasoned along with the onion that makes the base of the soup, and cooking the masa balls in the soup so that as they cook, they thicken the broth. I find that extra thick broth to be irresisitible. It almost resembles atole or a very light porridge (in a good way).

Just like Chiapas is not so well known outside of Mexico, it’s cuisine remains to be enjoyed abroad. This soup has many of the features I recognized in the different meals I ate there: distinct, with a lot personality, yet at the same time homey, delicate and comforting. Thankfully, many of the ingredients used in Chiapas, are now accessible abroad too.

A good soup recipe, I’ve learned, always comes in handy. Especially if it takes you somewhere. This one takes me right back to Chiapas.

CHIPILíN SOUP WITH MASA AND CHEESE DUMPLINGS
Serves 6-8

INGREDIENTS
3 tablespoons vegetable oil
¾ cup white onion, chopped
1 serrano chile, finely chopped, seeding optional, add more or less to taste
3 cups fresh corn kernels or thawed from frozen
8 cups chicken broth
3 cups packed chipilí­n leaves, rinsed
2 cups corn masa flour, or Maseca
1 ¾ cups water
8 oz or about 1 cup queso fresco, crumbled, may substitute for farmer’s cheese or a mild feta
½ cup vegetable shortening or lard
½ teaspoon kosher or coarse sea salt, divided
Mexican cream, optional, to garnish

TO PREPARE
Heat oil in a soup pot over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for about 4 to 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until it has completely softened, the edges have begun to slightly brown and there is a sweet smell stemming from the pot. Add the chile, stir and cook for another couple minutes. Toss in the corn, stir and let it cook for about 3 to 4 minutes. Pour in the chicken broth. While it comes to a simmer, prepare the masa for the dumplings.

In a bowl, combine the corn masa flour with the water, the vegetable shortening and a pinch of salt. Combine and knead with your hands until the dough is soft and homogenous, it will take a minute. Add the crumbled queso fresco and knead into the dough.

Once the soup comes to a gentle simmer, add the chipilí­n leaves. Once it is heated through, lower the heat to low and start shaping the dumplings. With your hands, make about 1 to 1½” balls, as you make them, gently drop them into the soup. Once you are done with all the balls, let the soup cook for about 20 more minutes. It should be gently simmering. The balls should be cooked through and as they cooked in the soup they should have thickened to the consistency of a thin porridge. But it will be a most delicious one! Serve hot. You may garnish with some fresh cream on top of each individual soup bowl.

This is why: I thought I knew cucumbers, I really did, until I visited Mr. Jose Luis Rodrí­guez Rojas’ cucumber green house in the state of Morelos, a state known as “Mexico’s Spring”. Cucumbers grown there are the slicers, ironically called pepino Americano or pepino común in Mexico. Slicers are the cucumbers mostly used in Mexico’s kitchens. And the ones I use all the time.

Now I know how little I knew about them.

Sure I have peeled, sliced, diced and julienned a gazillion and have used them in so many ways, from salads to sorbets. I know it’s taste: mild, watery, fresh, wanting to be lemony. I know it’s bite: soft yet crisp. I know the coolest trick to help them never be bitter (cut ends and rub the opposing sides before peeling).

But I had never seen their plants in their youngest form, as Miguel, one of the farmers showed me.

Nor was I aware, that after just one month of protected care, they grow to have jungle like looks and size.

Look at them!

If I could only embed here the moist and clean smell of the plants and the velvety feel of their immense fully grown leaves, I would be so pleased.

Much to my surprise, the flowers from where those huge cucumbers grow from are delicate and feminine. Their color a strong yellow that seems to want to fade right before your eyes, just as their petals seem to tell you to please be careful if you dare touch them.

There are male and female cucumber flowers and they are both as pretty. It is the female pollinated flowers, which grow a miniature baby cucumber right behind, covered in tiny-prickly-thin-like thorns that protect it as it grows. So they have ways of telling you not to touch them.

The flower holds on, as the cucumber grows. See below?

I marveled.

After a while, I had to make an effort to stop ooooohing and aaaaahing at every site (I have to act more my age, you know…).

After they pick the cucumbers, they clean them and pack them up.

Mr Jose Luis employs about 300 people a year. Each person I met, seemed proud about their job and meticulous in their care of the green house facilities and mostly, the plants. “No one kneels here to work”, Mr. Jose Luis repeated a couple times, “work here is worthy, dignified”. Truth is, it genuinely felt that way. It seemed that people felt vested in the business. Their faces lit up when I asked any question that popped out of my mouth (if you know me by now you know I have an endless stream of questions…).

Crazy Nacho Guani, who was filming with Cortez Brothers and I (for Season 2, which launches this weekend, yey!) was filming up there like a wild monkey (if you knew Nacho you’d know he climbs anything that has any height… )

Mr Jose Luis’ chest seems to burst as he talks about the history of his green house, more so about the vegetables he grows. He drastically changed careers, like I did too. He, also, has never looked back.

After spending the day, Mr Jose Luis, who could not have been more friendly, asked if we were hungry. We were starved. He immediately offered to take us to his favorite place for a late lunch-early dinner. But that’s another story.

Lesson learned, yet again: no ingredient, no single one is common. Even if it goes by the name pepino común, or common cucumber. Not even if you have used it a thousand ways and have chopped it a gazillion times.

Getting to know cucumbers, from flower to tops, made me think of so many new ways to use them. In a cold soup? With a bit of a bite from a jalapeño? With the wide echo from some mint? Topped with something sweet and crunchy and tart to make it all go wild in your mouth?

I played with the idea and once that I nailed a take I liked, I can’t stop making it.

Think of it as a Mexican tzatziki or as a white cucumber gazpacho of sorts… Or better yet, indulge me please and just make it. To boot: takes but 2 minutes in the blender.

p.s. Party or Holidays coming soon? Serve it in little mugs or cups for people to drink and munch along.

CUCUMBER, JALAPEÑO AND MINT SOUP WITH POMEGRANATE SEEDS
Sopa de Pepino con Jalapeño, Menta y Granada

INGREDIENTS
1 1/2 cups thick Greek yogurt
3 slicer/common cucumbers, about 2 1/2 pounds
1 tablespoon red onion, chopped
1 garlic clove
1 tablespoon jalapeño, chopped or more to taste (seeding optional)
15 mint leaves
2 tablespoons fresh squeezed lime juice
1 teaspoon kosher or coarse sea salt, or more to taste
3/4 cup pomegranate seeds, or more to taste

TO PREPARE
Wash cucumbers, cut the ends and use them to rub the opposing cut ends of the cucumber. Peel and cut lengthwise into 4 long strips and slice off the seeds. Discard the seeds and cut into chunks.

In the jar of a blender, place the yogurt, cucumbers, red onion, garlic, jalapeño, mint, lime juice and salt.

Puree until smooth. Pour inside a mug or container and store in refrigerator until ready to serve.

Serve and sprinkle pomegranate seeds on top.

Just the first night I was back, I felt myself fall for it all over again. After days of scouting, eating, researching, testing and filming with Cortez Brothers, I left with a disorganized mental list of things I didn’t even had the chance to try.

See, the charm is everywhere: from the history inhaled in each corner; to the talavera tiles splattered all over buildings, tables, vases and plates; to the food which makes you want to lick the plates clean, be it paper plates at markets – like this one holding cumin tamales with a side of peanut atole…

…or fine talavera holding Mole Poblano enchiladas,

at El Mural de los Poblanos, one of the city’s top restaurants with to-die-for food.

But what I fell for the most, were Poblanos-namely the people from Puebla. Poblanos will give you their time and attention, no matter how busy their schedule may be. And they will do it wholeheartedly with care and sweet enthusiasm.

No wonder why, in the midst of a city where just about any random street gives you a thousand photo shots to aim at, Poblanosare falling all over each other.

Seriously: There are people hugging everywhere…

…despite posts, whether it rains or shines, and no matter what time of day.

I mean, forget about hugging, there seemed to be a lot of kissing too (I am all for public displays of affection, because hey, we have just so much time on this earth and if someone is lucky to be with whom they love and they want to show it, I say go for it).

So, I fell for Puebla, which was to be expected. But what was totally unexpected in my hunt for tasting more scrumptious Mexican food, which is found in every corner of this city, was finding some of the best Italian food I have ever tried.

That’s right.

In the middle of the heart of Puebla.

And what do you know? There had to be a love story involved…

photo Nacho Guani

Luis Carpintero, the owner, had worked in restaurants and bars for most of his life -since he was a kid in his mother’s small restaurants. He fell in love with Monica and for years their dream was to open up a restaurant together. Since Puebla has such extraordinary Mexican food wherever you turn, they opted for Italian, which is their favorite after Mexican (like me…).

A friend of a friend of a friend of Luis knew of a Mexican woman, who had gone to Italy 3 decades ago. She had fallen in love with an Italian chef named Piero Giangrande and dragged him to Tlaxcala, a neighboring state of Puebla, where he opened up shop. Luis and Monica sought him out and for ten years planned this Italia Mia endeavor.

There is a large wooden oven for pizza and pasta made from scratch. About that pasta: I had such a hard time choosing which to have that I ended up sampling from everyone’s plates and still couldn’t decide. Chef Piero, watches over the staff as they roll out every single sheet of pasta. That one right there is stuffed with veal, pork, Parmesano Reggiano and Prosciutto, and it is served with a white truffle sauce that is as delicate in your tongue and as strong in its intensity after you swallow.

Luis and Monica put their lifetime savings and the entirety of their hopes and hard work into this place. And you can feel it: sparks fly when they light up the bar (photo does not do justice to it really, it was taken with my phone).

They have a Martini menu with 22 options where they serve, as Luis calls,tragos coquetos - flirty drinks. And flirt they do!

The Cucumber Martini that Luis and Monica suggested I try bewitched me so, that as soon as I had the chance back in DC I ran to the liquor store to get Limoncello, one of its main ingredients. I even made it at a function last week and guests were marveling about it.

Cucumber in a Martini?!? Yeah, that’s what I thought. Try it: you will not believe how charming it tastes. Just like Puebla, anything that I tried there, whether Mexican or not, makes me want to come back for more.

As you take each sip, you get the chance to munch on the diced cucumber, which has been soaking in the martini. When you try it, you will find the experience to be totally unexpected too.

Cucumber Martini
1 Martini

INGREDIENTS
1 1/2 oz Bombay Gin or gin of your choice
1 oz Limoncello
A slice of lemon and cucumber to macerate
1/2 oz Natural or simple syrup
1 tablespoon diced cucumber

TO PREPARE
In an empty shaker or martini mixer combine all the liquors, slices of lemon and cucumber, and the syrup. Mix and macerate all the ingredients for about 5 minutes. If making a large quantity, let it sit in the refrigerator in a pitcher up to 12 hours.

Fill the shaker with ice and shake vigorously for 1 minute. Strain and pour the liquid into a chilled martini glass. Decorate the martini with the small pieces of cucumber and a spiral of cucumber skin.