Category: <span>Views</span>

At the end of every semester when I taught English for ten years at the University of New Mexico in Taos, each of my classes celebrated with a pot luck buffet. But these were no ordinary pot lucks. They were also writing assignments.

Not only did each student bring a platter of food to share, they also had to write a short essay on the story behind that dish. “Everything – and everyone, too – has a story,” I would tell them. “Always look for the story.”

Their food offerings were spread out on long tables against one long wall of the classroom, and their one-page stories were tacked on the wall above each dish. This way we could both savor and learn.

These pot lucks were meant to be lessons in observation and curiosity – really noticing the things around us, which we might otherwise ignore or take for granted – and then inquiring about them and digging into their deeper meanings. These celebratory lessons were part of what I’d been striving to convey all semester, the importance of critical thinking in our everyday lives.

I was reminded of this this week when I made my very first homemade Mexican mole (pronounced MO-LAY) sauce, using the new, sturdy Oster blender that Santa Claus (via my friend Ron visiting from L.A) brought me for Christmas.

Chef and restaurateur Rick Bayless, author of the classic cookbook Authentic Mexican, calls mole “probably the best sauce in the Mexican repertoire.” And, given the fact that Mexican cuisine is considered one of the five finest in the world, that is saying something.

There are in fact many moles in the Mexican repertoire – more than three hundred, some say – including green, red, yellow, and black, each made slightly differently, depending on the grandma (abuela) making it at home (think: American meatloaf).

Black mole poblano from Oaxaca state in southern Mexico, which is considered the national dish of Mexico, is my favorite mole by far; and it’s the one, I’m proud to boast, I made this week at home. What a feat! It took me one full afternoon.

But if you’re like me and you enjoy playing in the kitchen (rather than in front of a computer screen), you’ll understand why I found it great fun.

Mole poblano, I learned by doing, includes more than twenty different ingredients – dried chiles, Mexican chocolate, lots of spices, a variety of nuts and vegetables and even fruit – all toasted or roasted or fried, then blended and cooked down to a rich sauce made with love and care and served in Mexican families at special fiestas.

And, oh, does mole have a story!

According to cocinacorazon.com, mole originated in pre-hispanic Mexico, when it was called mulli and was made with turkey and served in Aztec rituals and other festive occasions. Most of the main ingredients used in moles today are the same as those used by the Aztecs in their day – chocolate, chiles, peanuts, tomatoes, and tomatillos – because most of these ingredients originated in Mexico thousands of years ago.

How exciting to think that the Aztecs, who dominated large parts of Mesoamerica from the 14^th to the 16^th centuries, ate so well – and we, so many hundreds of years later, can emulate them.

Diego Rivera’s “The Grinder” — the way mole was made before blenders were invented

Here are a few photos from my mole-making experience this week. I won’t share my long and complicated recipe because I still need to perfect it. But I’ll share two videos you might like to follow – one quick and easy and the other (Rick Bayless’s) more authentic and involved. Of course, the simplest thing to do is to use the tried and true Doña Maria prepared brand, which is available in grocery stores just about everywhere.

Olé mole! Feliz fiesta!