Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travel. Show all posts

Friday, October 19, 2018

8 Plants I Ate in Oaxaca




The last time I was in Mexico, I was too busy apologizing for Trump to notice how many plants I was eating. Sure, I discovered new revelations in jicama in the food-centric cities of Puebla and Mexico City, but this time I was in Oaxaca where there are more indigenous herbs, edible vegetation and creative cheffery than perhaps anywhere in the country.



I had been to Oaxaca once before in 1996, before compulsive culinary impulses had hijacked every sentient cell of my being and propelled me, fork first, into unknown greenery. Sure, I had savored the seven moles, the many masa-based antojitos and the smoky mezcals, but back then, exotic herbs and edible flowers were not top of consciousness. But now I was a zen foodist, mindfully pondering every color, aroma, flavor, texture and genus, as I shared my wonderment with complete strangers in each bite’s wake. Eyes and mouth wide open, my palate was woke. This time it wasn’t just about the corn off the stalk or the liquid gold from the agave. It was the plant itself that earned my awe. Here are eight plants I ate in Oaxaca (and no, cilantro doesn’t count).

1. Flor de Jamaica (Hibiscus Flower)



I was familiar with hibiscus tea, but this was my first foray into flower-filled flautas. Dried hibiscus flowers were boiled and rehydrated, resulting in a meaty texture and tart, cranberry flavor. The hibiscus filling in the flautas at La Jicara was bathing in a Guajillo chile sauce, and the fried tortillas were then topped with avocado and black bean sauces. With all that sauce-on-flower action, who needed meat? While there are many species of hibiscus flowers grown around the world, the ones used in tea and cooking are mostly from Mexico, Latin America and Africa. They’re high in antioxidants, vitamin C and are said to lower blood pressure. The oil used to fry the flautas is said to raise it, so I guess it all evens out.

2. Flor de Calabaza (Squash Blossom)



While we may see an abundance of squash throughout the summer in the States, we don’t see a proportionate amount of the blossoms because they're highly perishable. But in Oaxaca, the blossoms are as ubiquitous as a “Resist!” sticker on a Prius. Easily found in markets, their mild flavor and colorful appearance make them a menu mainstay, from soups to empanadas, quesadillas and tlayudas—like this one I had at the Mercado 20 de NoviembreThey’re also commonly stuffed with Oaxacan cheese, then battered and fried. Squash blossoms even made an appearance inside my first-ever hoja santa leaf.

3. Hoja Santa 



When I saw an hoja santa leaf stuffed with quesillo and squash blossoms on the menu at La Biznaga, my dairy-free diet was definitely doomed. After all, this was Oaxaca, famed purveyor of fresh string cheese (quesillo), and who could refuse a mysteriously aromatic, anise-leaning leaf encasing a luxurious pillow of artisanal splendor? I couldn't help but say "hola" to the hoja. Hoja santa means “sacred leaf” in Spanish and is also called hierba santa and root beer plant since it’s a member of the sassafras family and contains safrole, a substance found in sassafras. Its indescribably earthy leaves are used to wrap tamales and fish and are also found in soups, posole and mole verde—the distinctive green mole from Oaxaca. 

4. Epazote



This common herb used in Central American and Mexican cooking is a member of the Amaranthaceae family, which includes amaranth, spinach, beets and quinoa, and is one of the ingredients that gives Oaxaca’s mole verde its bright green color. As opposed to the dark moles that contain chocolate, nuts and raisins, mole verde like this one I had at Casa Oaxaca is light and vibrant, employing fresh herbs, tomatillos and green chiles to achieve its color. The green mole from Puebla, pipian verde, uses pepitas (pumpkin seeds) as a primary ingredient, creating a heavier sauce. Epazote is also used in soups, stews, tamales, eggs, quesadillas—even tea—and is considered a medicinal plant due to its many nutrients. It's also used to quell gastrointestinal distress, which may or may not be from the mole.

5. Papalo



Papalo is like cilantro on crack. A little of it goes a lonnnnng way. Sometimes referred to as "Bolivian coriander," it's also called “skunk weed” or “buzzard’s breath.” While papalo wasn’t in this mole, it made an elegant garnish on top of the roasted broccoli and vegetable medley. Considered a quelite, which refers to a host of wild greens native to Meso-America, it’s used raw in tacos, salsas, cemitas and to scare off uninvited in-laws who pop in unannounced for dinner. While the flavor dramatically dies down when heated, I used some in a cooked jackfruit taco filling and found it oddly pleasing in its diminished, skunkless form—despite the papalo pundits who espouse their skunky preference.    

6. Nopal (Prickly Pear Cactus)



Prickly pear cactus grows all over Mexico, and the pads or nopales are extremely nutritious. According to one authority, “Cooked nopales looks like bell pepper, tastes a little like green beans and has a slightly slimy texture. But don’t let that turn you off. Without a little slime, we’d have no politicians, and who would give all those rich people their tax breaks? Like a politician, the nopales must have their spines removed first.” When trying to go meatless in Mexico, nopales and black beans provide all the sustenance an indigenous warrior or lazy tourist needs to partake in a human sacrifice or double-decker bus tour. 

Tuna (Prickly Pear Fruit)


While the pads are eaten year-round, the prickly pear blossoms, or tunas, are a summer fruit found in drinks, jams, candy and many Aztec breakfast buffets. Watch out for the hard seeds, though. They're brutal!

7. Verdolagas (Purslane)




This succulent jade lookalike is a common weed that grows in Mexico, Europe, the Middle East and Asia. The entire plant, including leaves, stems and flowers are edible and eaten mostly raw in salads. When cooked, it has the same slightly slimy consistency as cactus. While its sour flavor may be an acquired taste, perhaps you’ll make peace with the pungency when you ponder purslane's health benefits. It contains more omega-3 fatty acids than any leafy vegetable and is so nutrient-dense, it's said to cure many ailments. It did eliminate hunger pangs after eating this earthy nopal, mushroom and quesillo huarache at Cabuche. Casa Oaxaca served purslane lightly dressed atop an artisanal corn chip as an amuse-bouche, which restoratively cleansed my palate before the mole verde.

8. Huauzontle



Indigenous to Mexico, huauzontle translates from the Nahuatl language to “hairy amaranth.” Related to quinoa, amaranth and epazote, like purslane, it has a high nutritional profile, as the leaves, branches and flowers are all edible. The sautéed huauzontle-sprig garnish in this creative sandia and nopal (watermelon and cactus) salad at the Agrado Guesthouse had a slight crunch and pleasing herbal pop, which made a fabulous counterpoint to the fruit and cactus (hiding underneath). While the hardy, hard-to-spell huauzontle was a major food source back in Moctezuma's day, it's debatable whether the Aztec line cooks dredged it in batter and sent it swimming in a fry basket like it's commonly prepared now. As for my new discoveries, I felt really lucky to have made them. But then, zen foodism is all about gratitude.

Related Links:

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

Jicama, Jicaletas and Yam Bean, Oh My!


While I was on my Trump Apology Tour of Mexico, in between apologizing, I became an unapologetic culinary observer. All it took was one working eye to observe that Mexico is the land of the jicama. These mighty, pre-Columbian tubers were in full regalia on every calle and corner from Mexico City to Puebla and Cholula. Also known as Mexican yam bean or Mexican turnip, this tuberous root is from a vine that’s a member of the bean family. Not only is it a good source of vitamin C and high in fiber, it's good photo fodder, too.




The most ubiquitous jicama sightings were on street vendors' carts paired with papaya, melon, mango, orange or cucumber. It’s the perfect complement to fresh fruit with its crisp bite and striking color contrast. It also appeared either cubed, sliced or grated in buffet offerings, acting as a quiet compadre to all the alpha meats, manly moles and sassy salsas. You could see whole jicamas piled high in every market, from the small mom and padres to the large supermercados. In fact, there were so many tubers to go around, Trump could build the wall out of jicama and Mexicans wouldn’t even know they paid for it.


Jicaletas y paletas

Just when I thought I'd seen it all, I eyed the jicaleta. This modern-day street-food phenomenon of sliced jicama on a stick is an homage to the popular Mexican ice cream bar, the paleta. Hence the name: jicaleta (jicama + paleta). The moniker may sound cute, like designer jicama for the youthful YouTuber market, but these tuberous treats seem to appeal to every jicama-eating demographic. But if you think a piece of naked jicama doing a pole dance on a stick of raw wood is sexy, you should see what comes next: the colorful rub-down in a tsunami of umami.




First, a thick slice of jicama on a stick is brushed with chamoy syrup (the red goop on the right) that's either a sticky liquid or paste consistency. It's made from pickled fruit that’s salty, sweet, sour and spiced with chiles. The jicama is then rolled in either tajíne (a seasoning powder from chiles, salt and lime juice) or a sugary powder that comes in different colors and flavors that adheres to the chamoy. While I never tried a jicaleta (artificial colors and flavors aren't how I roll) or got a photo of one in its final glam-shot glory, you can see what they look like in the short video below and some wilder designs here.



I'm already planning my next Mexico trip to do more apologizing—mostly to myself for not trying a jicaleta. And while I’m there, I might as well hit the Trump apology trail again. I barely scratched the surface. In fact, I better start planning my world tour.


Related Links:
My Trump Apology Tour of Mexico
My Trump at the Table eCookbook 
Street Snacks, Mexico City
East LA Meets Napa and a Love Letter to Mexico

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

My Trump Apology Tour of Mexico



Before embarking on my holiday trip to Mexico, I decided that instead of donning a Canada pin like U.S. travelers did during the George W. Bush era, I would just come right out and apologize for my country. I would be the self-anointed anti-ambassador of Trumpistan, imparting to the Mexican people that the majority of Americans are horrified by Trump’s words, that there will be no wall, and that as a Californian, I value and appreciate them.

How would I achieve all that in the largest Spanish-speaking city in the world? I would stand in the middle of Mexico City’s swarming, humongous zocalo near the historic Metropolitan Cathedral, holding a handmade sign. Droves of people would see the crazy gringa who’s spreading good will, and whether they embraced me or not, they’d have to appreciate the effort, right? These were some of my sign ideas:

  • América es lo siento (America is sorry)
  • California te ama (California loves you)
  • Haga el amor, no muros (Make love, not walls)
  • Trump es no America (Trump is not America)
I would make eye contact with as many people as I could and offer them a smile, a nod and an hola. In one nanosecond, we would share a universal understanding that humility and humanity transcend borders and that we are all in this together—one big wall-less familia.



Oh, who was I kidding? Did I really have the cojones to stand in the middle of Mexico’s largest square like Michael Moore or one of those terminally happy people giving away free hugs? Hug shmug. I needed a plan B. I would be a real investigative journalist, engaging people who could speak enough Inglés to have a conversation with me. I’d get their names, take photos and quote them. This would be a highly respectable mission with journalistic integrity.

But when I got there, I remembered I was on vacation, and having integrity seemed like too much work. I was there to detox from Trumpistan. I needed to get all that hateful, swampy rhetoric out of my damaged psyche so I could go back to the States recharged, with renewed determination to fight. Plus, serious gastronomy awaited.




Plan C wasn’t likely to earn me a Pulitzer, but it was low impact, and I could still be an exile from Trumpistan for 95% of my trip. I would simply ask people what they thought of Trump whenever I felt like engaging someone.

“What do you and your countrymen think of Trump?” I asked a young woman in Puebla (two hours southeast of Mexico City) who worked at the Ampara Museum. She said half the people were truly afraid and the other half were very angry. Needless to say, none were happy. I told her that I was sorry and please try not to confuse Trump with the American people. She said she understood, and that likewise, not all Mexicans wear a sombrero and have a mustache. We parted with a big mental hug.

See, that wasn’t so hard. So what if I didn’t get her name, and I have no journalistic integrity. Next, I approached a saleswoman selling Talavera pottery in a Puebla store. I said, “I want you to know that Donald Trump does not represent America, and that I am sorry.” She smiled and said, “I do not hate Donald Trump.” 

Wow, I thought. She is so much more evolved than me.
“I don’t hate Trump,” she repeated.
“Why not?” I said.
“We will kill him,” she said casually, as if informing me that I had a piece of lint on my collar. “We are Mexicans. Carlos Slim was his boss. We won’t let him get away with anything. Someone will take him out.”

There was something oddly comforting about her bravado. As badly as we had treated Mexico, maybe Mexico had our back. When I told her that I was on an apology tour, she said many Americans had been apologizing to her. Apparently there was a whole club of traveling apologists from Trumpistan.

“I am not worried,” she said, before we parted ways as BFFs—or at least BFs for the next four years.



A man in Mexico City I apologized to simply smiled awkwardly and acted like he didn’t know what I was apologizing for and didn’t want to get into it. I was starting to wonder, too, because after a few more apologies, I realized that instead of bringing up Trump—which was a total buzz kill—I would simply try to exude a friendly, gracious persona so they could see that all Americans aren’t jerks. I would show, not tell.

But that was easier said than done. There was the time I was tired and hungry, waiting for a bus that was woefully late, and some guy was hustling me to buy a cupcake that I didn’t want. I just wasn’t in the mood for his spiel. 

“Where are you from?” he said with a boisterous swagger. 
“Trumpistan,” I said with a feigned smile. “Lo siento,” I said. "And I’m sorry I can’t eat gluten either.”

Related Links:
My eCookbook: Trump at the Table
Travel Bite: Street Snacks, Mexico City

Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Fashionista Farmer: Santa Fe Print Edition, Part 2


If you saw my post from the Santa Fe Farmers’ Market featuring prints charming, then you must be chomping at the bit to meet the Royals. What constitutes fashionista-farmer royalty? Is it organic, fair-trade, non-GMO, gluten-free, cruelty-free, rainforest alliance certifications? Nice try, but no. The farmers must simply display their wares with artistic flair, a sense of style and be farmstand eye candy. And for bonus points, their clothing must be color-coordinated with their products. Yep, I make the rules around here, and that’s what constitutes fashionista-farmer royalty. If you beg to differ, please take it up with the authorities by filing a formal complaint at the Bureau of Fashionista Farmers. In the meantime, eye some candy.

Mixed Greens and 50 Shades of Gray
Both provocative and high in folate, the man in gray and his matching ensemble was Prints Charming-certified.


Salve-y Lady 
This herbal salve seller rubbed me the right way with her originality.


Chimayo Red-hot Couture 
His clothing may have been half-baked, but his shades, hat and tablecloth provided the sizzle—along with the chile, natch.

Multi-hued Hot Couture Ensemble
Between her chile print apron and his hot, red shirt, they proved to be worthy chile-istas.


Earth Mother Ensemble
Her sage wisdom shone through with a retro, herbal-forward sensibility.



Karl Lavender Field
His many products went on like lavender fields forever. He even grew his own shirt. 


Aqua and Taupe Scone Ensemble, Sans Gluten
In addition to baking gluten-free, she gets bonus points for her fully baked color vision.


Beet Scone Ensemble, Sans Gluten
She also gets bonus points for matching. I hope the scones taste as good as the ensemble looks.


Hemp-glassed Baker, Sans Hemp
I didn't see hemp listed as an ingredient, but he still gets points for his whacky vision.


Batik Chic Baker 
What a pleasing pastry presentation, down to his coordinated shirt. Kudos, baker dude!


Cafe Accompaniment in Pink
He even matched the bacon, but regrettably, not the breakfast burrito. 

Which is your favorite fashionista farmer?

Related Links: