Simple Cooking

After Mexican cuisine, Thai is the one that I consider the most expressive. I find its freshness, sharp chile accents, and cool citrus flavors habit-forming, so much so that I travel to Thailand at least four times a year. One of the most distinctive of Thai flavors is that of kaffir lime. It resembles a large key lime with deep green, warty skin and leaves that have a marvelous, haunting perfume unmatched by those of any other lime or lemon. In this filling, I use the leaf to perfume the coconut sauce that cooks the shrimp. The fruit only grows in tropical climates and the lime itself is very hard to find here, but its fresh or frozen leaves are sold at all Asian markets that stock a lot of Thai ingredients. For this filling, the leaves should be minced very finely (remove the rib) or, preferably, ground to a fine powder in a spice mill, as its flavor is so strong that any large bits of leaf will dominate every mouthful.

Achiote paste is a distinctive staple marinade of the Yucatán peninsula that infuses food with a brick-red hue, a part bitter–part acidic flavor, and an earthy intensity that lingers on the palate. It’s usually combined with the bitter orange of the Yucatán and the fierce, tropical habanero chile. This recipe has a distinctly Caribbean flair, evoking personal memories of the early market in Merida, capital of the Yucatan and famous for its beaches. There, you’ll find wonderful whole fish marinated in achiote paste and cooked on fires on the beach over coconut husks. Or chicken tamales with achiote paste wrapped in banana leaves steamed, then finished over an open fire. These tacos are traditionally served with black beans, rice, and a heaping side of fried plantains (see page 140). You can make your own pickled onions for the garnish: Slice red onions into thin half-moons, sprinkle with oregano, and marinate in the juice from a jar of pickled jalapeños for about 20 minutes.

Chorizo is usually made from pork, but you can find wonderful beef or chicken chorizo as well as an excellent vegetarian chorizo made from tofu. I’ve had a delicious green chorizo in Puebla that was a regional specialty composed of fresh green herbs and chiles blended with pork. The green marinade for the chicken plays wonderfully against the red chile of the chorizo. These hearty tacos are also great served with queso fresco or grated Cheddar or gouda cheese. Quail eggs fried sunny-side up makes a tasty garnish, if you like.

This quick, convenient recipe is a Southwestern take on a popular Southern classic—sweet summer corn and barbecued chicken. Sautéing the chicken to brown the surface deepens both color and flavor and approximates the Mexican technique of cooking on a comal or griddle. To cut down on the preparation time for this recipe, use a good, all-natural rotisserie chicken from the grocery store.

Here in New Mexico, we have a number of really good goat-cheese producers who sell their products at farmer’s markets. Spanish settlers originally introduced goats to the region along with the craft of making goat cheese. For Mexican recipes, I prefer the flavor of goat cheese to American cheeses made with cow’s milk. Mexican cooking is rich and needs the counterpoint of a sharp cheese for balance and lively taste. Cow’s milk cheeses are usually too creamy and flat in flavor, absorb too much of the flavor accents from a dish, and lack a certain acidity and sharpness common to Mexican cheeses. New Mexico also has great apples, as good as those I grew up with in New England. At an elevation of 7,000 feet, Santa Fe experiences very cold nights in the fall that “crisp” the apples and set the juices. The sweet juiciness of apples is a perfect match to the mild creaminess, tang, and richness of goat cheese. You can use the goat cheese as a garnish, if you prefer, rather than mixing it into the filling.

The Spanish word tinga means “unruly” or “messy.” But there is nothing messy about the wonderful flavors of this dish with its layers of smoky and sweet. The browned chicken has accents of balsamic vinegar, roasted sweet peppers, and chiles—a sort of Mexican chicken cacciatore. I consider it one of Mexican cuisine’s top ten classic dishes. Tinga tacos are a perennial favorite in northern New Mexico and can have other fillings beside chicken. In addition to tacos or burritos, this filling—really a homey soul-satisfying stew—can be served in a bowl over rice. It also makes a great bocadillo, a Mexican sandwich served on a square crispy roll. To reduce the heat level of this dish, decrease or leave out the chipotle puree.

The word charro refers to the original cowboys of the New World, the Mexican and Spanish men who handled the cattle on the large ranches of Mexico and California, and then Texas and the Southwest. The entire cow culture—the hats, saddles, ropes, boots—was brought here by Spanish explorers and settlers. These men lived a nomadic life that revolved around the search for the best seasonal pastures for their herds. Meals were always prepared over open campfires, giving food a smokiness that is forever associated with cowboy cooking. Beans were a common side dish, and the smoked salt in this recipe helps to replicate those robust and smoky flavors. The beans will hold for one week in the refrigerator, and their versatility makes them handy to have around.

The combination of sweet, lightly smoked corn and rich, earthy mushrooms is one of the great flavor marriages of Mexican food. In this filling, inspired by one of my favorite salsa recipes in The Great Salsa Book, the fresh corn kernels are dry-roasted to capture the sweet corn flavor and infuse them with an appetizing, smoky perfume. Dry roasting is one of the great culinary techniques that give Mexican cuisine its distinctiveness and meaning, and one easily mastered at home. Very simply and effectively, it intensifies and concentrates flavors and imparts the smoky, primordial quality that is characteristic of so many Mexican dishes. Beyond corn, the technique is also used for garlic, tomatoes, and onions, for fresh and dried chiles, and for seeds and nuts.

During the summer monsoons in Santa Fe, we forage for wild mushrooms—mostly porcini-like varieties—in the high-altitude forests of the nearby Sangre de Cristo Mountains. We’re always looking for new ways to use our earthy, robust bounty, and this woodsy taco is one of our favorites. Buy wild mushrooms in at least three colors or textures. They’ll add interest to the filling and give you the option of mixing less costly types with the more pricey ones. Avoid shiitakes and enokis, which don’t pair well with wild mushrooms (the enoki are too acrid, and the shiitake too powerful) or lobster mushrooms as they don’t cook at the same rate and remain hard. Aim for a mix that is woodsy, rich, delicate, and very flavorful. Good substitutions for fresh wild mushrooms are a mix of dried wild mushrooms and fresh criminis, or dried porcini and thinly sliced portobellos.

The earthy meatiness of portobello mushrooms pairs wonderfully with the smoky flavors of chipotle chiles. The mushrooms are sautéed in butter, which imparts a delicious nuttiness and helps the mushrooms brown. Toasted pine nuts or pumpkin seeds are a traditional and tasty garnish that increases the nuttiness of the dish. Small, fresh portobellos have tightly closed gills that are easy to slice through. The spongy gills of large portobellos must be scraped off with a spoon before the mushroom caps are sliced—but don’t discard them. The gills can be tossed in the pan and cooked with the rest of the mushroom, adding color and depth of flavor.

Flour tortillas are a mainstay of Tex-Mex cooking. You can see them rolling hot off the tortilla machines into baskets at many of the Tex-Mex restaurant chains (a show that kids love to watch), perfect for fajitas and juicy meats. One of my favorite ways to enjoy a flour tortilla is possible in Santa Fe only in August and September during the chile harvest. I’ll peel and seed a fire-roasted fresh green chile, roll it, still steaming, in a warm fresh flour tortilla, and eat it up. Such a simple treat, yet so memorable. These tortillas are very easy to make and so much fresher and lighter than any you can buy at the store. I’ve used bleached all-purpose flour for this recipe rather than bread flour. All-purpose flour has less gluten, so the dough is easier to roll out into thin tortillas that stay flat without shrinking back. As an alternative to making the dough from scratch, you can try Quaker Harina Preparada para Tortillas, a mix that contains all the ingredients in dry form that you need to make flour tortillas, including the fat. Just add water to prepare the dough. Some Hispanic markets stock it, or look for an online source.

These tacos are a great way to enjoy the harvest from your late summer garden. The delicate orange-and-yellow flowers of squash plants are a prized treat through out Mexico and the southwestern United States. Squash blossoms are an ideal partner to the green chiles grown in Hatch, New Mexico, widely available in the Southwest during late summer and early fall (see Sources, page 167). If you can’t find New Mexico green chiles, you can use Anaheims, their slightly less robust California counterpart, found in produce markets throughout the country. I like to serve these tacos with a cold, citrusy beverage—margaritas for the adults and limeade for the kids. The tartness of the limes beautifully complements the warm, buttery cheese that oozes out of the taco with each bite.

To make tortillas with masa harina, use packaged masa harina. Two of the most widely available brands are Maseca (be sure to buy the type for tortillas) and Quaker Oats. One of my favorites is an all-natural, stone-ground masa harina made by Bob’s Red Mill, a small Oregon company that specializes in whole grain products. You can find it at Whole Foods markets, natural food stores, well-stocked specialty markets, supermarkets, and online. Purchase masa harina from a supermarket with a high turnover, as it will go rancid over time. Always taste masa harina before you use it to be sure it is still fresh. It does not store well and goes off much faster than flour. It’s best to store masa harina in the refrigerator or freezer, where it holds for 2 to 3 months. It will also keep in your pantry if sealed airtight for about 2 months. Making the dough is easiest in a heavy-duty mixer, but you can also mix it by hand in a bowl with a wooden spatula.

This garlicky paste, made with dark-brown sugar and spicy chile powder, imparts much flavor as well as color to grilled meat, including the ribs on page 176.

When making Pan-Fried Chicken Cutlets (page 269), increase the coriander seeds to 2 tablespoons and the fennel seeds to 2 teaspoons.

This Asian-inspired marinade pairs perfectly with pork—turning into a sticky, spicy, sweet glaze when cooked—but can also be used with chicken or beef.

This goes remarkably well with steak.

This marinade is especially good with chicken and lamb, imparting bright flavor and helping to keep the meat moist.