Dear MommaLizzard:

Xoconostle--that's how most people spell it; it's pronounced ho-co-NO-stlay or sho-co-NO-stlay--is the sour prickly pear. In Mexico it's most commonly used as an addition to soups--in place of lime. It's simply peeled, chopped and added. It's also a good addition to fruit crisps or blended, strained and simmered with sugar to become a dessert sauce orfrozen into a fruit ice.


Sincerely,
Rick

Dear Paul:

Okay. Here's a suggestion for your day-after turkey sandwich. Take that cranberry sauce (it's probably flavored with some sugar, maybe some orange, hopefully some onion and garlic) and add some chopped canned chipotle chile to it. If there's no garlic in your sauce, add some--but roast it first (or at least pop it in the microwave for 30 seconds to take the raw taste away). Then add some diced jicama to the sauce, if you can find it, and a little drizzle of lime. Into the mayonnaise for your sandwich, stir a litte of the smoky, tangy, tomatoey canning broth (the "adobo") from the chipotles. This is one of my favorite sandwiches.

RB


Sincerely,
Rick

Dear Amy:

The dish you enjoyed is the ancient Mayan dip called sikil pak ('sikil' for 'pumpkin seeds,' 'pak' for tomato). On the Fifth Season of Mexico-One Plate at a Time (airing in early 2007) I do make the following version:

Yucatecan Pumpkinseed Dip
Ha Si Kil Pac

1 cup of hulled pumpkinseeds
2 ripe plum tomatoes
medium red onion, finely chopped
3 tablespoons finely chopped cilantro
1 habanero chile, stemmed, seeded and finely chopped
The juice of 1 lime (or sour orange)
Salt

1. Toast and grind the pumpkinseeds. Measure the seeds into a small saucepan or skillet, set over medium heat and, when the first one pops, stir constantly until all have popped from flat to round, about 5 minutes. Dont let them darken past golden or the dip will taste bitter. Pour into a food processor, let cool, then grind to as smooth a paste as possible, dribbling in about cup water during the grinding process and scraping down the sides several times to ensure even grinding.
2. Roast the tomatoes. Roast the tomatoes, peel and chop into -inch pieces.
3. Finish the dip. In a medium bowl, combine the pumpkinseed paste, tomatoes, onion, cilantro and half of the chile. Stir in enough lime (or sour orange) juice to give the mixture a dip-like consistency. Taste and season with salt (usually about ____ teaspoon) and more habanero if you wish.


Sincerely,
Rick

Dear LAS DINAS:

Tongue takes time. You need to cook it for hours (a slow-cooker works well, though some people--not me--swear by their pressure cooker, which I think makes the tongue stringy). When you want to cook tongue, cover it about half-way with water, throw in a chopped onion, a little garlic, and some herbs and bake it in a 325-degree oven (or put it in a slow-cooker) for about 3 hours (longer for slow cooker). When it fork-tender, let it cool in the broth, then strip off the exterior layer, pull out the cartilage that's on the underside and slice the meat that remains. Sounds like a lot of work, I know, but I LOVE tongue.

Now, about that sauce. To make it I roast tomatillos and garlic, and I dry-toast chiles negros (aka pasilla chiles). After rehydrating the chiles for a half hour, I blend them with the tomatillos and garlic. I strain the mixture into a deep pot that's filmed with oil and heated over medium-high. I stir until the mixture is cooked down to a thick paste, then I add some broth (some of the cooking broth from the tongue would be good). Season the sauce with salt. Slide the tongue into the sauce and let it cook for another half hour or so. Then remove the tongue, slice it and serve it with the sauce, preferably sprinkled with cilantro and sliced white onion.


Sincerely,
Rick

HI Alex,
I am more than happy to sign books at the June 11th event. I won't be having a "formal" book signing, but find me (or ask for help) and I will be glad to sign any of my books.


Sincerely,
Rick

Thanks for the feedback. I only do one tour a year to Mexico, and it's designed pretty much for food professionals (though we let really dedicated "foodies" come along, too). It's the first week of March each year, and this year we'll be in Puebla and Tlaxcala. There will be a lot of cooking classes (by me and others), market visits, restaurant meals and, of course, a party or two. You can sign up by going to http://www.prochef.com/wof_travel/oaxaca.html


Sincerely,
Rick

Dear Alexander:
That was the topic of the introduction to my last book, Mexican Everyday. But in a nutshell, (1) I avoid processed foods and beverages, (2) I eat small meals throughout the day, never eating too much at any one meal, but never allowing myself to get hungry, (3) I eat slowly, so I know when I've had enough, (4) I eat simple fresh foods for my everyday meals (like the recipes that are in Mexican Everyday), (5) I celebrate with food (meaning I feast) on the weekends or other special times--in contract to my simpler daily eating, and (6) I stay really active--I do yoga, I do weight training, I walk and bike everywhere.


Sincerely,
Rick

Dear Jim:

That caramel sauce I used from the bottle is called cajeta (pronounced ca-HAY-ta). It's made from goats milk (some versions use cows milk or a mixture of the two) cooked for a long time with sugar and cinnamon until the natural milk sugars turn a golden color. It's amazing stuff!


Sincerely,
Rick

Charles:

The big tortilla presses are used a lot in southern Mexico, especially Oaxaca. I bought that one at the Central de Abastos market in Oaxaca. It's the market that's on the outskirts of town. But you can find large tortilla presses in many towns in central and southern Mexico.


Sincerely,
Rick

Aren't those Veracruz tamales the best! I love the ones they make with cooked corn masa (they come out a little like polenta tamales), with shredded pork picadillo, maybe a little hoja santa leaf. And the ones they make with fresh corn are just as good. Veracruz offers a wonderful cuisine, which I've covered quite a bit in different books, from the huatapes (a corn soup that's similar to the chileatole that's served in Puebla) to the famous fish a la veracruzana with tomatoes, capers and olives. In my first book, Authentic Mexican, I did the delicious veracruz crab soup called chilpachole. Next time you go, don't miss out on the mid-morning snack called gorditas infladas, fried corn masa cakes seasoned with sugar and anise or with savory black beans. They're on many of the menus in the port town, but I always order them sitting on the malecon sipping cafe con leche at La Parroquia.


Sincerely,
Rick

Dear Alex:

No, unfortunately, after 37 years my mom retired (my father died when I was in my teens) and sold the Hickory House to a fellow who had neither the smarts nor the capital to keep it running. After less than a year, he closed the place.


Sincerely,
Rick

Hi Glo:
This salsa will last in the refridgerator for about 7-10 days after opening it. Thanks for your support.


Sincerely,
Rick

Dear Reid:

What an incredible idea! I noticed that a company from the southwest just released a whole line of flavored horchatas, but none that were as delicious-sounding as the espresso-laced one you came up with. Don't go spilling the beans (so to speak) to Starbucks though, or you might find it in a bottle in your local drugstore.




Sincerely,
Rick

Dear jmonkeyshea:

If the mold is sparce, dark and very dry, I don't think it will hurt you to use them, but they wouldn't be my first choice. The presence of mold simply means that the corn husks were not quickly dried ... so they molded a bit before they completely dried out. After you soak your "moldy" corn husks, wipe them with a paper towel and some of the mold will probably come off. And, of course, next time look for a different corn husk supply.


Sincerely,
Rick

DEAR BTABORJR:

The precolumbian diet was mostly vegetarian and centered around beans, corn, pumpkin and pumpkinseeds, chiles, herbs and greens, fruits and the like. I'm sure it was pretty rustic for most families--in fact, in many rural parts of Mexico, it still is a diet that's mostly centered around beans and corn tortillas. But when the Spaniards arrived at Tenochtitlan (now Mexico City), the captial of the Aztec empire, they raved about how sophisticated it was--even more sophisticated than anything you could find in Spain at the time, they said. The royal court was said to have offered around a hundred dishes to the emperor every day to choose from. So we know that the rich hertitage of complex cooking began in those precolumbian times.


Sincerely,
Rick