Javier Alvarado Saloma carefully cuts a piece of leather on which he’s traced an outline using a template. “I use either cow or pig skin,” he says, as he concentrates. Cutting the leather is the first step of several needed to make a mask. Two weeks after cutting the leather, he’ll have a finished mask, one that will eventually be used during carnaval, in Huejotzingo (typically shortened to “Huejo”), a pueblo mágico in Puebla.

Masks have been used in many cultures and countries, including Mexico, for millennia. The oldest masks discovered to date were found in the hills and deserts within 20 miles of Jerusalem and are about 9000 years old. They are all made of stone and depict human faces. Wood and leather were probably also used to make masks—and could have been in use long before those stone masks—but none that old have survived. Or been discovered yet. The oldest wooden mask found so far dates from around 900 CE and was found in Angola.

Masks were, and are, used for a variety of reasons and in a variety of rituals or ceremonies. They’re used to change the person wearing it, to allow them to enter an altered state or to come into contact with the supernatural. They may also be used during fiestas, carnavals, ceremonies and rituals. In almost all of these events, people will dance for hours, something that also puts them in an altered state. In Mexico, virtually all pre-Hispanic cultures used masks. They were used during funerals, fertility rituals, ceremonies and celebrations. Their use continues today. One of the best examples of contemporary use has to be carnaval, an event that takes place around Holy Week. And one of the most dramatic examples I’ve experienced is carnaval in Huejo. “Huejo is the cradle of carnaval,” Javier stated.

Huejo’s carnaval lasts four days, beginning the Saturday before Ash Wednesday, with parades that can have as many as 25,000 participants. And just about everyone is wearing a mask. That’s a lot of masks and although masks made in Huejo can last 70 or 80 years, new ones are needed every year. “We prepare for [carnaval] all year,” Javier said.

Javier is the fourth generation of mascareros (mask-makers) in his family. He learned from his brother and mother when he was ten. “Little by little, I understood the method and the creativity and eventually developed my own style,” he said. “It takes at least two years to learn the basic techniques and with time one becomes adept. To be considered a master takes at least seven years of experience. Everything is done by hand. You have to have the knowledge but the details are in the practice.”

After cutting the leather, which has been moistened, Javier sews the two sides together. With a small hammer, he gently taps the leather to fit a solid wooden mold that’s shaped like a face and then connects it to the back with small nails. “We use tools that we make ourselves,” he said. Next, he uses a pen to sketch in the eyes, nostrils and mouth and then cuts them out with a small blade. “Everything is done with exact measurements,” he explained. Using sandpaper, he scrapes away the outer surface of the leather, leaving it smooth and ready to paint. “The paint is enamel,” he said. “I give it four or five coats.” This leaves the mask hard and looking shiny. So hard and shiny, in fact, that I thought the ones he showed me were ceramic. The final steps for most involve adding eyebrows, a moustache and beard. These may be made from human or animal hair or synthetic wool.

Graciela Linares Jiménez, Javier’s wife and co-worker, listed seven different groups that parade during Huejo’s carnaval while another person told me there are eight. Whatever the exact number, it’s certain that each group has its characteristic mask, each with different facial hair.

Despite the need for masks, Javier figured there were only ten mascareros in Huejo. Raúl Linares Valdivia is another one I visited.

As soon as I entered his home, Raúl launched into an explanation of Huejo’s carnaval. “Carnaval in Huejo started about 150 years ago,” he told me. “The mask represents the battle of Cinco de Mayo. Our carnaval represents the invasion of the Spanish and French.”

Like Javier, Raúl learned to make masks from a family member. In this case, his father, who was the first in the family to make them. “In the beginning, his masks were very basic,” he said, “but eventually became more complex.” When asked how long it takes to learn how to make masks, he told me, “I believe it really takes one’s whole life. My father started to make them and with time he perfected them. The mask is perfected all the time. One needs to make corrections because every person has specific features and the mask must be adjusted to them. As artisans, we make the corrections.”

Raúl’s masks are similar to Javier’s but there are differences. While it takes Javier two weeks to complete one, Raúl can finish one in four days. “It depends on the weather being good (that is, dry),” he said, “and sunny. The work is done by the whole family. The women make the beards.” He also uses leather made from bulls, rather than cow or pig. His more complex masks have moveable eyelids and eyes, which—at least for me—give the mask a slightly unsettling effect. He also makes miniature masks that he sells for souvenirs.

Raúl also makes another one of the important items used in carnaval: mosquetones, the huge rifles carried—and fired (loudly)—by many.

“The rifles are made from walnut,” he said. “The best rifles are walnut because they are stronger. Before, the rifles did not have figures but with time, that changed.” He carves elaborate figures on the rifle’s stock and then paints them with vibrant colors. The figures are extremely detailed, including one to which he attached miniature eyeglasses. It takes him about three months to make one rifle.

Both Javier and Raúl estimate they can make 50 to 60 masks a year, with Javier’s costing $3,500 pesos (just under $200 USD) and Raúl’s ranging from $1,200 (around $70 USD) to $1,800 ($100 USD). Raúl’s miniatures go for $200 pesos (around $10 USD). One of his smaller, basic rifles runs $4,500 pesos ($250 USD) with larger, more elaborate ones costing $7,000 (almost $400 USD).

I’ve read about what wearing a mask can do to a person, but I wanted a first-person account. David Quechol Deolarte, who accompanied me to both Javier and Raúl’s, is a member of Turco, a group that marches during carnaval. So I asked him what happens when he dons a mask. “It is a transformation when I put on a mask,” he said. “You stop being yourself and start a process of metamorphosis. You become a different person. You enter a different world.”

If you’re interested in buying one of Javier’s masks, call Graciela at: (227) 113-1877. For Raúl’s masks or rifles, (227) 153-4198. From the US, first dial 011-52 and then the rest of the number. Please be aware that they only speak Spanish.

Related articles on MexConnect

• World class mask museum in the city of Zacatecas
• Huichol artwork: masks
• Wandering warriors: the Tastoan masks of Prudencio Guzman
• Masks of Mexico – Mascaras de Mexico
• Masks and feather headdresses: Mexicans celebrate danzas

Joseph Sorrentino is a journalist, photographer and playwright. His website is www.sorrentinophotography.com. His book  Stinky Island Tales: Some Stories From An Italian-American Childhood (Amazon) is a collection of four stories in English and Spanish with 26 drawings. It’s available as both a paperback and Kindle version.

Published or Updated on: August 6, 2024 by Joseph Sorrentino © 2024

The post Mask making in the Magic Town of Huejotzingo, Puebla appeared first on MexConnect.

Photo gallery: Chipilo, Puebla: an Italian town with the best Italian food in Mexico © Joseph Sorrentino, 2023

Chipilo, Puebla is different from other Mexican pueblos. Very different. That’s because it is an Italian pueblo, settled in 1882 by Italians from Veneto, in northern Italy.

In the late 1880s, the Mexican government wanted to modernize its agricultural sector and recruited Europeans. Seventy-nine families arrived in Chipilo, worked hard and eventually succeeded in establishing farms and dairies. Chipileños—as residents are called—have retained their dialect, also called Veneto, a couple of traditions, and, happily, their cuisine.

Unlike most Mexican pueblos, Chipilo only has two big fiestas, and both take place in January.

Early morning on January 1^st, Chipilo’s streets fill with families going door-to-door in a daytime version of Halloween without costumes. It’s a celebration called Cappo d’Anno. Stopping in front of homes, parents and kids belt out a song asking for treats, like candy or peanuts.

On January 5^th, it’s the burning of La Befana (see photo gallery). Men in Grupo La Befana spend about three months building a 15-feet-tall paper and cardboard figure of La Befana, a good witch. She’s placed in front of the church on the morning of January 5^th and then driven to the sports arena that evening, where a couple of thousand people gather to watch her burn. “It is to burn the bad things from the old year,” said Hector Mazzocco Sevenello, the group’s leader.

Chipilo may not have the fiestas that other pueblos have—no big Day of the Dead celebrations, no processions during Holy Week, no fiestas for a patron saint or virgin—but what the town does have are queserías (cheese stores) and restaurants that boast some of the best cheeses and Italian food in the country.

La Parroquia de Chipilo sells around 50 kinds of cheese, 35 to 40 of them made in house. “Everything we use is local,” said Manuel Zago, the second generation to run the store. “The milk here is different. We use milk from two different dairies; they have a different quality and flavor.” Their most popular cheese is queso panela, a fresh, very mild cheese. “We make it four times a week,” said Zago. To make it, rennet and calcium are added to five hundred liters of milk. The milk rests for forty minutes and the resulting semi-solid mass is sliced with a lira, strained and poured into molds. “All of our cheeses are rustic, not industrial,” Zago said. “They are artisanal.” A small restaurant is attached to the store.

A block away is Don Giovanni’s, named after the founder, not the opera. “My father’s name is José Juan but his grandmother always called him Giovanni,” said Aldo Zerón Solari. The name stuck. Solari said they sell about 80 types of cheeses. “We make 25, more or less,” he said. “The rest, some are from the region, some are imported. Mozzarella and quesillo are the most popular.” Their restaurant, also attached, was greatly expanded in March 2023.

There are lots of quesarías in Chipilo selling cheeses made from family recipes, giving each cheese a unique flavor. It’s best to sample cheeses at different queserías before settling on a favorite. You might buy your manchego in one place, quesillo in another.

If choosing a favorite quesería is difficult, choosing a favorite restaurant is damn near impossible.

Breakfast

Most of the restaurants don’t mix Italian and Mexican cuisines much.La Cocina del Nonno, La Terraza de la Nonna, Buon Giorno and Bigosh all offer typical Mexican breakfasts: molletes, enchiladas and enfrijoladas and all are excellent. Buon Giorno also serves something different: nopal topped with queso panela and a red salsa. Definitely worth trying. Two sisters, Celia and Maricruz Stefanoni Montagner, decided to combine Mexican and Italian flavors in their restaurants, Cuore and Merende, to great success. “Our Enchiladas Chipileñas have a cream sauce with pesto added,” said Celia. “Huevos Poblanos are a little different, with mole that is sweet, and this sweet touch makes it different from all the others.” For lunch and dinner, they offer 27 different sauces for their pastas—have fun deciding!

Lunch and Dinner

Giuseppe Merlo, owner and chef at Trattoria Tutto Merlo, uses old family recipes but tweaks them a little. “For bolognese sauce, I add a couple of touches of mint,” he said. During the walnut harvest (June through late September) he serves pasta and portabello mushrooms with nogada—a walnut cream sauce usually only used for chile en nogada. I often stop in for a light lunch of Cremini Aglio—cremini mushrooms sauteed with garlic—and a salad. I recently learned that Pepe will add some tomato sauce, taking that dish to another level. It’s not on the menu but if you ask him, he’ll make it for you.

La Cocina del Nonno is one of the oldest restaurants in the pueblo.“My mother-in-law started it 35 years ago,” said Francisco Javier Galeazzi Berra, the current owner and chef. She only served typical Mexican food. When Berra took over ten years ago, he changed the name to honor his grandfather and, although he serves traditional Mexican breakfasts, “After 1:00, it’s Italian,” he said. “No chiles.” His risotto is something special with five types of mushrooms. Not to be missed.

Juan Pablo Urbano Garcia, the manager at Veneto, one of the larger restaurants in Chipilo, said their most popular pasta is spaghetti with shrimp in a cream sauce. “We have Italian and Mexican dishes, but not many mixed except for Pizza Mexicano,” he said. That pizza has beans, chorizo (a Mexican sausage) and jalapeños.

All of the restaurants have pizza and most are straightforward Italian. Terraza de la Nonna’s pizzas are the ones that take me back to New York and Philadelphia: thin with lots of sauce and cheese. “We are adding more dishes,” said Carolina Quezada Dossetti, who, along with her husband, owns the restaurant.“We will be known as a restaurant and not just a pizzeria.” They now offer breakfast on Saturdays and Sundays.

If you’re not too full after a meal, tiramisu is a good option. Otherwise, have an expresso at Il Caffe Italian, and then maybe something light like a gelato.

Four restaurants have opened in Chipilo in the past year, making the decision about where to eat even more difficult. But, as José Manuel Zago Precoma said, somewhat modestly, “Any restaurant owned by a Chipileño is going to be good.” OK, maybe he didn’t say it modestly. And he is right.

Chipilo’s restaurants are always busy on the weekends but since the end of the pandemic, they’ve been even busier. “Things were slow with the pandemic, said Solari. “In Puebla [city], the government was very strict. In Chipilo, not so much. There, it was only 30% capacity in stores. People lost their jobs, started coming to Chipilo to buy cheeses and other products, and then went door to door in Puebla selling them. They started to know the restaurants here and learned that they are cheaper, better and not so far away. Chipilo is only about 20-25 minutes from Puebla. People drive here and now business is growing.” People also drive from as far away as Cuernavaca, Tlaxcala, and even Mexico City, 2.5 hours away.

There are, a little surprisingly, two sushi restaurants in Chipilo. There are also fondas and taquerias, selling typical Mexican food. They all do a healthy business, supported by local folks. People from afuera—as non-Chipileños are called—don’t come to Chipilo for sushi or tacos. They come for the best Italian food in Mexico!

On a personal note

Chipilo has a reputation of being closed to outsiders. When I tell Mexicans I live in Chipilo, they often tell me how unfriendly it is. I disagree. I’ve lived here for almost three years and have never felt excluded. I’ve been welcomed when I work on articles about the pueblo. Maybe its reputation for being closed or unfriendly was true many years ago, but it is certainly not true today.

Editor’s note: An exhibition of the author’s superb photographs of Chipilo: “Chipilo: Un pueblo italiano de México” opens in the city of Oaxaca on 2 June 2023 at Casa KIT (Hidalgo 309 A).

Related article, with recipes, on MexConnect

• Immigrant Cooking In Mexico – Part Two: The Italians of Chipilo (Karen Hursh Graber)

Joseph Sorrentino is a journalist, photographer and playwright. His website is www.sorrentinophotography.com. His book  Stinky Island Tales: Some Stories From An Italian-American Childhood (Amazon) is a collection of four stories in English and Spanish with 26 drawings. It’s available as both a paperback and Kindle version.

Published or Updated on: February 1, 2023 by Joseph Sorrentino © 2023

The post Chipilo, Puebla: an Italian town with the best Italian food in Mexico appeared first on MexConnect.

While a torta can be filled with any kind of savory sandwich filling, the beans, avocado and tomato are always present. Leave out the onion if you are not a fan, or substitute mayonnaise for the crema; some torterías use melted butter instead of crema.

The milanesa is probably the most popular filling, and part of its appeal is the crunch of the breadcrumbs, which are literally pressed into the meat with a rolling pin here in Mexico.

Ingredients

• 1 4-ounce pork or chicken cutlet
• ½ cup fine, dry bread crumbs (do not use panko, since the crumbs are too large to press into the meat)
• beaten egg
• vegetable oil for frying
• 1 bolillo or telera roll, or substitute French bread
• ¼ cup refried beans
• 1 tablespoon thick Mexican crema or mayonnaise
• 2-3 ¼ inch slices of tomato
• 4-5 ¼ inch slices of avocado
• 3-4 thin slices of white onion
• 2-3 pickled jalapeño strips (jalapeños en escabeche)

Preparation

Season the cutlet with salt and pepper. Place the crumbs on a plate and the beaten egg into a shallow pan. Dip the cutlet in the egg, then into the bread crumbs, pressing on both sides with a rolling pin so that as much as possible adheres to the cutlet.

Heat the oil in a pan and fry the cutlet on both sides until crisp. Set aside to drain on paper towels while you prepare the sandwich.

Cut the roll in half horizontally and pull out the soft center part (the miga). Spread one side with the refried beans and the other with the crema or mayonnaise.

Place the cutlet on the roll, top with tomato, avocado and onion.

For a hot sandwich, press in a panini press. Makes 1 sandwich.

Link to Source Article
Tortas, Cemitas, Pambazos: A Meal in a Sandwich

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“Melting pot” cooking has given rise to innumerable ethnic grocery stores in the United States, and for people who enjoy cooking authentic Mexican food, this means that ingredients are easily available. Dried avocado leaves, essential to several Mixteca recipes, are sold in just about any Mexican grocery store. These are from the native Mexican avocado, Peresea drymifolia, as opposed to the U.S. Haas avocados, a descendent of the Guatemalan strain, whose leaves may be mildly toxic. Dried leaves of Mexican avocados may be ordered online from www.gourmetsleuth.com

Ingredients:

• 8 boneless, skinless chicken breast halves
• 4 large garlic cloves, peeled and crushed in a garlic crusher
• ½ medium white onion, grated
• 8 dried Mexican avocado leaves, lightly toasted and ground
• 8 tablespoons melted butter
• ¼ cup olive oil
• ½ teaspoon freshly ground pepper
• Salt to taste
• 6 cups homemade chicken broth, simmered until reduced to 2 cups

Place chicken in a glass baking dish. In a small bowl, mix the onion, garlic, half the ground avocado leaves, half the butter, half the olive oil, pepper and salt to taste. Pour the mixture over the chicken, cover and let rest for 2 hours, turning once.

In a saucepan, heat the remaining butter and olive oil, add the remaining ground avocado leaf and the reduced chicken broth, and stir with a wire whisk until the sauce has emulsified. Set aside.

Grill the chicken over hot coals or on a stovetop grill, brushing with the marinade, until the chicken is cooked through. Discard any remaining marinade.

Heat the sauce and serve the grilled chicken bathed in the sauce. Serves 8.

The post Grilled marinated chicken breasts: Pollo atlixquense appeared first on MexConnect.

A few years ago, I had a call from Rachel Wharton, a writer for the New York Daily News food section. She was writing an article on cemitas, the latest sandwich craze to hit New York at the time, thanks to the many immigrants from Puebla who have contributed enormously to the wonderful street food culture of my home town. This is the recipe she came up with after we spoke.

Ingredients

• 1 cemita roll, split horizontally and toasted (or substitute a high-quality, chewy, seeded hamburger roll)
• 4-5 ¼ inch slices of avocado, cut lengthwise
• 3-4 large pápalo leaves (May substitute cilantro or epazote, but pápalo is best)
• 1whole chipotle pepper in adobo
• Filling of your choice, such as spicy pork, steak, shredded chicken, pan-fried potatoes or refried beans
• 3-4 thin slices of white onion
• 3 ounces quesillo cheese (Oaxaca cheese) or another string cheese, shredded

Preparation

Build sandwich by layering the avocado, pápalo, chile pepper and filling, topping it with the onions and cheese. Makes 1 sandwich.

Link to Source Article;
Tortas, Cemitas, Pambazos: A Meal in a Sandwich

The post Puebla style sandwiches: Cemitas appeared first on MexConnect.

Wild mushrooms are found in abundance in the states of Puebla, Tlaxcala and Estado de Mexico during and after the rainy season, and used in soups, quesadillas and vegetable dishes. Although the comadre used escobetas (coral mushrooms) the following recipe may be successfully prepared using fresh cultivated mushrooms.

Ingredients

• 2 pounds fresh mushrooms (if using button mushrooms, remove the stems)
• 6 large cloves garlic, peeled and cut in half lengthwise
• 1 cup mild olive oil (not extra virgin)
• 1 large white onion, sliced into thin crescents
• 2 inch stick cinnamon
• 3 cloves
• 8 whole allspice
• 4 sprigs of thyme (or use dried thyme, but not powdered)
• ½ tablespoon dried oregano (not powdered)
• 4 bay leaves
• ½ cup mild vinegar, or to taste

Place the mushrooms in a pot with salted water to cover and boil until just tender. Do not overcook.

Drain and place mushrooms in a large skillet with the hot oil and sauté. Add all the remaining ingredients and stir to combine completely. Remove from heat.

Allow mushrooms to cool, place in an airtight container and allow to marinate in the refrigerator overnight. This dish may be served cold or reheated. In either case, it is usually served with bolillos or French bread.

Serves 6.

Link to Source Article

The post Mushrooms in vinaigrette: Hongos en escabeche appeared first on MexConnect.

Mexican Kitchen

I first met the comadre through a colleague of mine at the University of Puebla, Mexico. I was in the habit of bringing meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and other “gringo food” that the professor’s elderly American father missed, to his house in Cholula, the small town where we both lived, and where the comadre worked as his housekeeper. She would peer suspiciously at the brown gravy being ladled over his mashed potatoes, probably wondering how on earth el señor could prefer this insipid-looking sauce to one of her rich moles. Now, many years later, I wonder myself.

The comadre’s name was Lourdes, but nobody in the neighborhood, or even in town for that matter, called her by her given name. That was because nearly everyone was connected to her through the Mexican relationship called compadrazco, which is a formal tie outside the sphere of blood relatives, involving the participation of a non-family member in sponsoring a family fiesta. Food, liquor, flowers and other decorations all require the cooperation of several patrons, who are thereafter addressed as comadre or compadre instead of by their first names, at least in Mexican towns with strong traditions.

Since Lourdes had sixteen children, all of whom required decent fiestas to celebrate baptisms, first communions and weddings, not to mention quinceañeras – “sweet-fifteen” parties – for the girls, her social calendar was full and she was the quintessential comadre. It wasn’t long before my husband and I were invited to join the ranks of her hugely extended family, starting off as the providers of the sidral – a champagne-like hard cider – for a wedding toast. (The daughter whose wedding was being celebrated had been one of my students at the university, a fact that had not gone unnoticed by the town’s cleverest party planner.)

Ordering cider was one thing; the interesting part started when the comadre asked me to help out with some of the food preparation. I liked to cook and, coming from a family in the restaurant business, felt quite at home in the kitchen. What a shock then, to find out that I hadn’t the slightest idea of how to make rice, at least not according to the standards of the comadre and most decent Mexican cooks. She spent at least an hour demonstrating, and then carefully observing, as I learned to prepare arroz rojo.

Unfortunately, arroz rojo was the standard second course in almost all of the fiestas put on by the comadre, and once I mastered it to her satisfaction I made endless amounts of it before I was deemed ready to move on to other specialties.

However, move on I did, traveling frequently to other parts of Puebla and different regions of Mexico, where my husband and I enjoyed eating in marketplaces and street stalls, restaurants and private homes. I would happily accept invitations into the kitchen, whether indoors or out, while Larry hunted rabbits, picked papayas, or sampled the local pulque with someone’s husband, brother or son.

Learning to cook regional food involved a variety of settings, from humble outdoor kitchen huts in the sierra to modern restaurant facilities. The comadre’s own kitchen, a large and hectic venue, had three stoves, at least a half dozen blenders and a microwave which, though not used, was displayed proudly, covered with an embroidered doily. Several daughters-in-law would chop, slice, mince, dice and of course, grind the chiles and spices that combined to make moles, pipianes, and the stews called guisados.

I learned to prepare these and more in the years that followed my first cooking lessons from Lourdes, and found that good, regional Mexican cooking is not as complicated as many English-language Mexican cookbooks make it appear. Even a reader just starting to cook regional Mexican food should try one or two of the following favorite recipes from the comadre’s kitchen.

Recipes:

• Mexican fava bean soup: Caldo de habas vegetariano
• Stewed beef shanks with vegetables: Guisado de chambarete
• Mushrooms in vinaigrette: Hongos en escabeche
• Puebla style eggnog: Rompope

The post The comadre and her sixteen children, or how I started cooking Mexican food appeared first on MexConnect.

The Mexican trout farms in the mountains outside Atlixco have open air restaurants that are crowded with families getting out of the city on weekends. The menus feature trucha empapelada, or en papillote, with a variety of seasonings. This version of Mexican trout with sesame seeds in parchment paper is delicious and unusual.

Ingredients

• • 4 whole small trout (8-10 ounces each) dressed
  • salt and pepper
  • ½ cup butter
  • 3 tablespoons lightly toasted sesame seeds, plus extra for sprinkling
  • 2 limes, thinly sliced
  • 4 12-inch squares parchment paper

Preheat the oven to 350º F.

Score each trout on one side, cutting down to where you feel the bone. Season the trout inside and out with salt and pepper.

Place the butter in a saucepan with the sesame seeds and cook until the butter melts.

Place each trout on a 12-inch square of parchment paper. Pour the melted butter with sesame seeds over the trout, dividing it evenly over the four trout. Sprinkle more sesame seeds over the trout if desired.

Place the lime slices on the trout, dividing them evenly over the four trout.

Fold the paper over itself and tuck the ends under each trout.

Place the individually wrapped trout on a baking sheet and place in the oven for 15-20 minutes.

Serve immediately, opening the parchment paper at the table to release the juices.

Serves 4.

The post Mexican trout with sesame seeds in parchment paper: Trucha empapelada con ajonjoli appeared first on MexConnect.

No había comido carne cruda desde que vivía en Nueva York. No me gustaba la carne tártara que mi padre ordenaba. Pero recientemente probé este platillo de Puebla. La adición de semillas de chile frescas le da otra dimensión de sabor, y el jalapeño picado, cebolla y hierbabuena lo hacen aún mejor. Asegúrese de usar el solomillo (paloma) o pierna de cordero más fresco y magro que se pueda y pídale al carnicero que la muela dos veces. En Líbano, antes de que existieran los moledores y procesadores de carne, esto se hacía en un enorme mortero, haciéndolo un platillo laborioso que solo se preparaba en ocasiones especiales.

Ingredientes:

• ½ taza de bulgur fino
• 1 cebolla mediana, molida o hecha puré
• 1 libra de carne de cordero molida dos veces
• 1 cucharada de semillas de chile jalapeño o serrano fresco
• 1 cucharadita de sal

Para acompañar:

• Cebolla verde picada
• Chile jalapeño o serrano fresco picada
• Hierbabuena fresca picada

Manera de hacerse:

Mezcle todos los ingredientes del kibbeh, mezclando bien con las manos hasta que estén completamente incorporados.

Coloque la cebolla verde picada, chiles y hierbabuena picada en un plato separado, para que los demás lo agreguen al gusto. Sirva con pan pita caliente y jocoque o yogurt.

Rinde 8 porciones, o más si es parte de un buffet.

Regresa al artículo principal

The post Kebe Cruda appeared first on MexConnect.

I had not eaten raw meat since I was growing up in New York, saying “yuck” to my father’s order of steak tartare, until I tried this dish in Puebla recently. The addition of fresh chile seeds gives it a whole other dimension of flavor, and the chopped jalapeños, onions and mint take it over the top. Be sure to use the freshest, leanest sirloin or leg of lamb and have the butcher grind it twice. In Lebanon, before meat grinders and processors, this was done with a huge, free standing mortar and pestle, making it a labor-intensive dish usually prepared for special gatherings.

Ingredients:

• ½ cup fine bulgur
• 1 medium onion, ground or pureed
• 1 pound twice-ground lamb
• 1 tablespoon chile seeds from fresh jalapeño or serrano chile
• 2 teaspoons salt

For accompaniment:

• Chopped green onion
• Chopped fresh jalapeño or serrano chile
• Chopped fresh hierba buena (mint)

Preparation:

Mix all kibbeh ingredients, kneading well with hands until completely blended.

Place chopped green onion, chopped chiles and chopped mint in a separate dish, or smaller dishes, for diners to add to taste. Serve with warm pita bread and jocoque or yogurt.

Makes 8 servings, or more if part of a buffet.

Link to Source Article

The post Mexican-Lebanese Lamb Tartare: Kebe Cruda appeared first on MexConnect.