A couple of things, for the record – I know Megan Heberlein through social media, and this post is written with her blessing – albeit she wanted to make sure that I did not refer to her as ‘any kind of expert,’ so I ain’t.
I connected with her through the Rancho Gordo Bean Club Members group, a gang of folks who share recipes, questions, techniques and all things bean-loving over on FB. Unlike a lot of social media in broad strokes and FB in particular, this group is fun, friendly, supportive, and ridiculously wholesome – I love it to pieces.
What drew my attention to her was a well thought out piece of advice on making and storing molé – one of those why didn’t I think of that cooking moments that you instantly want to adopt and turn others on to.
Her molé strategy is nothing short of brilliant, far as I’m concerned. As she notes below, this sauce is ubiquitous in Mexican regional cookery, and every family really does have their own fave – just like pasta sauce in Italy or bourguignon in France. I couldn’t say it any better than she does when she exhorts us to try a bunch and make a fave or three ours. So without further ado, here’s Megan’s stellar advice.
1. Make a big batch – a really big batch – as big of a batch as you are willing to deal with. It doesn’t take much longer, and mole freezes really well.
2. Use gloves for the chili handling. If you’re not already, it really does help keep the burn down!
3. Once everything is together and run through the blender to smooth it out, don’t pour it back into the pan. Set the oven for 250, and pour the mole into a roasting pan, or something similar that is size appropriate. It will take longer to cook down, but you don’t have to hover over it. Just walk away from it, give it a stir every couple hours – or even set your oven lower, and go to bed! The other great thing about this method is that you don’t have to worry about cleaning mole splatters off your walls and ceilings for months. 🙄
4. Cook it down. Cook it way down, and turn it into a paste. This will take up less space in your freezer, and is easy to turn into a sauce with the addition of stock.
5. Glass jars are your friends for storage. I usually pack mine into pint jars, and 1 pint jar plus stock is plenty to use on a family size package of chicken thighs. Come time to use, you can either thaw on the counter (if you’re one of those people who actually plan ahead), or stick in the microwave without the lid (if you’re me). I haven’t tried it, but if you’re good with liquids in vacuum seal bags, that would probably store really well, and just throw it into warm water to defrost.
6. Freeze, don’t can! I’ve got it on very good authority that canning mole at home is right out, even with a pressure canner – Apparently it’s too dense to be safe.
7. Every region of Mexico has it’s own style of mole, and every family has their own recipe. Try various recipes, and find the style(s) you like! One of the most fun things about mole is that, because they are so varied, you can change up recipes as you’d like. Change up the peppers, the amounts of onion/garlic/tomato/tomatillo, the fruits, the nuts/seeds, whatever.
8. Know that every pepper has it’s own flavor profile, and playing with the peppers can change up the flavor. Ancho is fruity, chipotle is smoky, etc.
There you have it, with big thanks to Megan. What I love about her strategy is how demonstrative it is of the innovative capability of us home cooks – and it’s a great reminder to always be on the lookout for better ways to do stuff in your busy home kitchen – now y’all go have some fun!
When you make soup, or stew, or any number of sauces at home, you add a bay leaf or two, right? Ever wonder why you do that – I mean, really give it some thought? I’ll be honest – I hadn’t, so I guess it’s time to ask – What does bay leaf do for our cooking, anyway?
Full disclosure, a social media acquaintance sent me a link to a new-agey treatise on bay leaf. This thing claimed that, ‘recent scientific studies have proven’ that bay leaf converted triglycerides to monounsaturated fats, eliminates heartburn, acidity, and constipation, regulates bowel movements and blood sugar, makes the human body produce insulin, eliminates bad cholesterol, protects the heart from seizures and strokes, relieves insomnia, anxiety, kidney stones and cures infections – No freakin’ wonder we put them in soup!
Most if not all of those claims are, at best, gross exaggeration and distortion of facts. The real dead giveaway was this line – ‘Do you know that if you boil some bay leaves in a glass of water and taste it, it will have no flavor?’
My answer to that is, ‘do you know that this statement is complete bullshit?’ Either the author has never actually done the experiment, or did so with bad bay leaves. Had they done it properly, they’d have discovered a much more potent and nuanced result.
Before we dive into that, let’s define what exactly the bay leaf in our pantry is – it’s Sweet Bay, AKA Bay Laurel, or Lauris nobilis. It’s native to the Mediterranean, and cultivated commercially all around that region, as well as France, Spain, Mexico, and Portugal. Now for the record, the other bay we see in a lot of pantries is California Bay, and that’s a whole different beast, Umbullularia californica – it’s far more potent than sweet bay, with longer, narrower leaves.
Dried Sweet Bay leaves Dried California Bay leaves
Problem is, a lot of purveyors just call their stuff ‘Bay Leaf,’ and that can make things tough on us home cooks. Different growing areas produce leaves with subtle differences you may or may not like. In any event, it’d be nice to know from whence yours came, wouldn’t it? Good outfits like World Spice and Penzey’s will tell you that.
It’s good to keep both the sweet and California versions on hand, by the way. While California bay is intense and medicinal, the sweet, (often called Turkish), is lighter, more nuanced and savory. The latter is far and away my personal go to, for the record. California bay is nice, in moderation, in low and slow soups and stews where time and temperature can simmer out the lion’s share of the more volatile constituents that spring forth early on in the cooking process. In any event, you’d be well advised to find out what variety you have, and like best.
Sweet Bay is complex, with dozens of volatile compounds onboard each leaf. The heavy hitters are cineole, pinine, linalool, and methyl eugenol. Interestingly enough, most of those compounds are also found in basil. California Bay is a bit different, packing cineole, pinine, and sabinine – that last one is responsible for things like the spiciness of black pepper, nutmeg, and carrot oil. Cineole, linalool, and pinine are terpenes, a rather volatile chemical family that has much to do with a wide variety of powerful scents in the natural world. Their highly reactive nature makes them some of the first things we smell when bay leaves are used in cooking. Methyl eugenol is a phenolic found in over 450 plants, and plays a vital role in pollination – how about that in your spaghetti sauce? These compounds are fascinating, especially when we think about how they’ve made that journey from chemical warning sign, or pollination attractor, to our dining table.
On to that experiment then, since that’s the best way to ascertain that what you’ve got in your pantry is packin’. Set a small pan of water to boil and then reduce the heat to maintain a simmer. Toss in a couple bay leaves of your choice, let them do their thing for 3 to 5 minutes, and then stick your nose down there.
The first things you get will be those fleeting terpenes. If you’ve got California bay, those notes will be the big medicinal ones, menthol and camphor. If you’ve got sweet bay, you’ll still get some hefty initial notes, like camphor from the cineole, but as simmering time progresses, you’ll catch a sort of floral skunkiness – that’s the linalool’s influence. Piney, sagey notes come from the pinine, while the methyl eugenol might remind you of general earthy, savory notes. If you let that simmer go for 45 to 60 minutes, as you would for a soup or stew, and then taste your bay leaf tea, you’ll get hints of all these things – If you don’t, then what you’ve got is old, or old, crappy bay leaf – and that’s not at all uncommon.
Bay leaf’s contribution to your cooking is subtle – it’s a background stalwart, not a lead singer. What makes a sauce, soup, or stew great is the layering of flavors, and for that, a solid aromatic base is critical. Bay lends a raft of minor notes that, while perhaps not missed in and of themselves, certainly will be if they’re absent from the mix.
So what to do in your kitchen? Start by finding your bay leaf, opening the jar and giving it a big sniff. Do you get a nice, complex but subtle whiff of the stuff discussed herein? Do you remember where and when you bought those leaves? Does the container say anything about provenance? If the answer to those questions is, ‘no,’ then trash what you’ve got and get some fresh stuff. World Spice is a great go to for bay leaf – They carry both Turkish and California, and they’re always top notch quality.
Bay does just fine as a dried herb, by the way. If you keep them in a clean, airtight glass jar, out of direct sunlight and wide swings of temperature, they’ll be good to go for 6 months, easy. If you want more from your bay, store them in your freezer and they’ll last for years.
Fresh Sweet Bay leaves
You can use fresh bay leaves in cooking, but know that their potency is quite a bit higher than dried leaves, so adjust accordingly, and again, be sure you know what you’ve got – A freshly crushed leaf of fresh bay from our garden smells subtly savory and complex, just as described, whereas, at least to me, fresh California bay smells like a medicine cabinet – an overdose of the latter will ruin a meal really quickly.
Tej patta, or Indian bay leaf
Then there’s Tej Patta – Indian Bay leaves. Indigenous to the southern slopes of the Himalayas, Indian bay is mostly wild brown, and can be identified by the 3 distinct veins running down each leaf. Seminal to Terai cuisine from the area around the mountainous northeast of the country, and to Moghul dishes like biryani and korma, Indian bay has notes of cinnamon, clove, and cassia. It’s a must have if you’re to do those regional cuisines justice.
Finally, you can grow your own if you’re living in a USDA Plant Hardiness Zone 7 or thereabouts – We’re a 7+ here in the northwest corner of Washington State, and our little sweet bay plant is doing fine, even with a couple of hard frosts under its belt. Granted, it’s a small bush and not a tree – in its native turf, it can reach over fifteen meters in height. Here’s a very nice primer on doing so.
It’s a sure bet that, if you eat enough Mexican, Tex Mex, Caribbean, or South American food, you’ve enjoyed some form of carne asada. Certainly then, you’ve swooned over the rich and pungent blends of flavors presented by something that looks so simple, but tastes so complex. The answer lies in Mojo, the marinade that made carne asada famous.
The literal translation of the South American name for the dish is roasted meat, which tells us right away that the cooking side of things isn’t complex. All that magic comes from the mojo, and fortunately for us, it’s not only easy to make, it’s downright a gas.
Carne asada de UrbanMonique
Before we dive fully into Mojo, let’s spend a few looking at the history of carne asada – It’s as old as fire and cooking vessels, really. No one can lay claim to originating the dish, (although that hasn’t stopped many from trying). In addition to straight asada, there are popular variants that have much to do with how the meat is handled for service – Shredded or ground, as opposed to cooked whole and sliced, for instance.
Shredded or pulled beef is found in American barbecue, ropa vieja in the Caribbean, and carne deshebrada in Mexico. The versions most Americans are accustomed to stem from northern Mexican cuisines, although there are popular southern variants as well.
Mojo de UrbanMonique, a great all purpose marinade
Specific cuts of beef are commonly associated with carne asada, and they’re not exactly the rock stars. These include skirt, flank, and flap steak, the stuff the folks doing the boogie up on the hill certainly did not buy for themselves. That stuff was considered refuse, and the genesis of great meals formed around such marginal cuts is another example of the disenfranchised making due. Yet here in the 21st century, popularity has turned all that on its head – Some of these lesser cuts have reached the big time cost-wise.
The moral of the story is to be flexible – When we spied eye of the round cut thin as steaks for $5 a pound, it was game over, and ‘authenticity’ be hanged – It’ll all eat just fine – Boneless chuck, the bargain basement of beef cuts, makes perfectly wonderful carne asada.
Now, on to that mojo. If you have a carniceria nearby, you can bet they offer carne asada, either in whole steaks, sliced, or chopped. You’ll likely find it either preperada, (marinated) or not, and if you get their marinade, what you’ll get can run the gamut from simple salt and oil, to quite complex mixes that rival a mole – The marinade is where the real poetic license lives with carne asada. What you create is up to you, (and we’ll provide plenty of options herein to get ya started.)
As common and as diverse as spaghetti sauce, there are dozens of popular, commercial mojo variants, let alone the tens of thousands rendered by home cooks everywhere. The Spanish word Mojo derives from the Portuguese, Molho, which simply means sauce – a clear indicator of its ubiquity.
There is general agreement that mojo originated in the Canary Islands, the archipelago off the northwest coast of Africa. Canarian cuisine is a fascinating amalgamation of the native islanders, (sadly, now largely extinct), Spanish, Portuguese, and African roots. Their cooking emphasizes freshness, simplicity, and powerful flavors, many of which derive from various mojos. Literally every Canarian family has at least two signature mojos, passed down from generation to generation.
The signature island dish, Papas Arrugadas, (wrinkly potatoes), is demonstrative of all that. Whole potatoes boiled in salt water, and served with red and green mojo – And in an interesting twist of serendipity, the potato isn’t native to the Canaries – They came from South America, of course.
Canarian Mojo with Papas Arrugadas
In its simplest form, mojo contains olive oil, chiles (pimienta in the Canaries), garlic, paprika, coriander (either fresh or seed), and cumin. As mentioned, there are two primary branches of Canarian mojo, red and green. The red, fueled by dried or fresh chiles and paprika, is most often paired with meat, while the green, made with green peppers, cilantro, or parsley, compliments fish courses.
There are many other iterations, some using local cheese, (mojo con queso), garlic, almonds, and fresh herbs – Check out that almond Mojo recipe and you’ll see what I mean about rivaling moles. One could easily spent a happy year working through all these lovely things, and one of these days, I just might.
The flow of humanity in the 16th through 19th centuries, both forced and chosen, brought mojo to Europe, then South America, the Caribbean, and eventually, North America. Mojo not only thrived, it grew in leaps and bounds. Were I forced to define a generic, accurate version that we here in the Estados Unidos are familiar with, it would certainly include chiles, citrus, garlic, oil, and vinegar – A Mexican vinaigrette, in essence.
Established Mexican, Caribbean, and South American variants also run the gamut from super simple to dizzyingly complex. What this means to the home cook is that in all honestly, you can’t go wrong – Combine stuff you love and that plays well together, and you’re in like Flynn. I’m going to offer several variants, including fairly faithful renderings of styles you’ve probably tried and liked – As I always note, use these as a springboard for personal creativity, and know that you’ll likely never do the exact same thing twice.
The real beauty of Mojo is as a last minute inspirational meal – You’ve got this, that, and the other thing in your stores, so what do you do with them? You do this.
The basics for a Mexican style mojo
NOTE ON WHAT TO MAKE: Tacos, burritos, chimis, or taco salads, with fresh pick de gallo and warm tortillas, are almost a must for your first meal if you’re marinating proteins, but keep in mind, this stuff has North African and Iberian roots, so get bold and go that direction if you feel so inspired. And you can always sauté the meat with something new, change the spicing, and make something totally different.
Carne Asada Hash, the perfect next morning leftover
NOTE ON MARINATING: Any marinade containing citrus, other acids like Vinegar, or other fruits like papaya, kiwi, pineapple, fig, or mango will break down the connective tissues in proteins as they marinate – There’s an enzyme called protease, (papain in papaya), that does the trick. That’s great for tenderizing tougher cuts, and it’s the secret as to why marginal stuff like skirt stake or flank steak can come out so tender. That said, be careful with the duration – There are a lot of recipes out there that advise marinating overnight, and that’s taking things too far – Going over 6 hours risks mushy meat, and nobody likes that texture. Marinate proteins for at least an hour, and as long as 4 or 5, and you’ll get great flavor infusion and a proper degree of tenderization.
Tacos Carne Asada
NOTE ON GRILLING: Anything you marinate in Mojo will taste best grilled. And if you can, do so with wood or charcoal, although gas works just fine too. With the thinner cuts or proteins commonly used for carne asada, you’ve got to keep an eye on things – We’re talking a 2 minute punk rock song per side, as opposed to the common, classic rock 3-4 minutes a side measure. A lot of restaurants grill carne asada to well done, but you do not need to do that. Grill to medium rare, then allow a good 5 to 10 minute rest before you carve. If you use the more rustic cuts of beef, like skirt, flank, or flap steaks, carve 90° to the grain, at a 45° angle for each slice.
NOTE ON OIL: You’ll see I call for Avocado Oil on several Mojo recipes. I like it for it’s rich, buttery feel and neutral taste, as well as its exceptional smoke point. You can certainly use Extra Virgin Olive Oil in any of these recipes, but you really owe it to yourself to try avocado oil in the near future.
First, the classic Mojo roots.
Canarian Green Mojo
1 Bundle fresh Cilantro
3/4 Cup Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1 fresh Lime
3 cloves Garlic
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon Cumin
1/2 teaspoon Black Pepper
Rinse and dry all produce.
Remove long stems from Cilantro, discard and mince the leaves.
Peel and stem garlic, and mince.
Juice lime, and set aside.
If you’re using whole spices, add salt, pepper, and cumin to a spice grinder and pulse to an even consistency, (3 or 4 pulses should do it.)
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl and mix thoroughly. You can leave the sauce rustic, or process it with a stick blender for a smoother consistency.
Allow sauce to marry for 30 minutes prior to use. Serve with fresh crusty bread, potatoes, fish, or veggies.
Canarian Red Mojo
1 large Red Sweet Pepper
2-4 fresh hot chiles, (chef’s choice, they don’t have to be red – Jalapeño, Habanero, Serrano, and Cayenne all work)
3 cloves fresh Garlic
2-3 Tablespoons Extra Virgin Olive Oil
1 Tablespoon Cider Vinegar
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon Cumin
Rinse all produce and pat dry.
Stem, seed, and devein the Pepper and chiles, (leave veins in chiles if you want more heat.)
Fine dice Pepper and chiles.
Mince Garlic.
Process Cumin to a powder if you’re using whole.
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl and mix thoroughly. You can leave the sauce rustic, or process it with a stick blender for a smoother consistency.
Allow sauce to marry for 30 minutes prior to use. Serve with fresh crusty bread, chicken, pork, or beef.
UrbanMonique Signature Mojo – This is a great all purpose Mojo, with a couple of our signature twists.
Prep for making mojo is simple and quick
2 small Limes
1 navel Orange
1-3 Jalapeño Chiles
1/2 bunch fresh Cilantro
1/2 Cup Avocado Oil
2 Tablespoons Live Cider Vinegar
Pinch of Sea Salt
3-4 twists fresh ground Pepper
Rinse and pat dry all produce.
Zest and juice the citrus, and reserve both.
Peel, stem, and mince the garlic.
Stem, de-seed, and devein the jalapeños, (leave the veins if you like more heat).
Remove long stems from Cilantro and mince the remainder.
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl and mix thoroughly. You can leave the sauce rustic, or process it with a stick blender for a smoother consistency.
Makes a fantastic marinade for chicken, pork, or beef. Also does great with tofu, veggies, or fish.
And finally, here are a few Mexican and South American variants.
Quick Cervesa Mojo – Great for folks that don’t like heat.
1 bottle Negra Modelo Beer
1 small lime
1 bunch Green Onions
3 cloves fresh Garlic
Pinch of Sea Salt
A few twists fresh ground Pepper
Open beer and pour into a bowl, allowing it to loose its fizz and flatten somewhat, (About 5-10 minutes)
Zest and juice lime, set both aside.
Peel, stem and mince garlic
Trim and peel green onions, then leave them whole, as trimmed.
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl and mix thoroughly. Leave the sauce rustic, do not process it.
Allow sauce to marry for 30 minutes prior to use. Makes a fantastic marinade for chicken, pork, or beef. Marinate proteins for an hour, then remove the steaks and the onions and grill both as desired. Goes great with the rest of the Negra Modelo six pack.
Taco Truck Mojo – There is no standard recipe, but this will put you in the running…
2 small Limes
2-4 hot Chiles of your choice
3 cloves fresh Garlic
1/2 Cup Avocado Oil
1 Tablespoon dark Soy Sauce
2 teaspoons Smoked Sweet Paprika
1 teaspoon Sea Salt
1/2 teaspoon Cumin
1/2 teaspoon Oregano
1/4 teaspoon Black Pepper
1/4 teaspoon White Pepper
Rinse and pat dry produce.
Zest and juice Limes, set both aside.
Stem, seed, and devein chiles, (leave veins in if you want the heat). Fine dice chiles.
Peel and stem Garlic, then mince.
Process spices to a consistent rough powder if you’re using whole.
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl. Process with a stick blender to a smooth, even consistency.
Makes a fantastic marinade for chicken, pork, or beef. Marinate proteins for at least an hour, and as many as 5 hours. Grill proteins as desired, and baste with the marinate as you’re grilling.
Garlic Papaya Mojo
1 fresh Papaya
1 small Green Bell Pepper
3-4 Green Onions
1 small fresh Lime
3 cloves Fresh Garlic
1 Tablespoon Avocado Oil
1 Tablespoon live Cider Vinegar
1/2 teaspoon Lemon Thyme
Pinch of Sea Salt
A couple twists fresh ground Pepper
Peel, seed and rough chop papaya.
Zest and juice Limes.
Stem, seed and devein green pepper, then dice.
Peel, stem green onions, then cut into 1/4″ thick rounds.
Peel, stem, and mince garlic.
Combine all ingredients in a non-reactive bowl. Process with a stick blender to a smooth, even consistency.
Makes a fantastic marinade for chicken, pork, or beef. Marinate proteins for at least an hour, and as many as 3 hours – don’t exceed that too much, as the papain enzyme in papaya is formidable stuff. Grill proteins as desired, and baste with the marinate as you’re grilling.
Well, it’s fall, the garden is cranking out the last of the year’s bounty, there’s playoff baseball on the boob tube, and sticking tortilla chips into gooey cheese is never a bad thing.
It’s a safe bet that, for as long as humans have been eating cheese, they’ve been doing so by melting the stuff and scooping up the results with something else that’s tasty. That’s done in some form or another all over the world, but for my mind, the most sublime and delicioso dish in this regard comes from Mexico – Esto es Queso Fundido.
It’s always appropriate to highlight the wealth of all great things cheesy that comes from Mexico. This is also a good time to discuss what’s a genuine Mexican dish and what’s purely Tex Mex.
So, let’s swing for the fence right off the bat – Anything made with some version of American cheese, (Velveeta, Super Melt, Extra Melt, whatever), is not Mexican food in any way, shape, or form. Yes, a lot of restaurants use this stuff, (even ones that say they make Mexican food – Keep in mind who they’re feeding…) Yes, in Texas queso really is widely made with it. Yes, after a beer or three, queso made of nothing but Velveeta and a can of Rotel diced tomatoes and chopped green chiles tastes pretty damn good – But it’s not Mexican food, and that’s that.
consider as well that it is not just cheese variety that speaks to authenticity – it’s the volume, or proportion, per dish. Generally speaking, Mexican cooking uses cheese as a balanced part of a dish or meal – It’s not something buried under half a pound of molten goo – That’s a purely American affectation.
What is the Real Deal, then? Queso fundido, or sometimes queso flameado, would be it. Fundido means melted, flameado means flambé. Both are genuinely served down south in taquerias and restaurants. Fundido is pretty common, often in play at home for using up this and that from fridge or pantry, while flameado is done more for show or special occasions, (and it is spectacular – Go to Benito’s in Fort Worth and you’ll see what I mean.) Fundido in restaurants is probably more popular up in the northern part of Mexico.
Typically, you’ll see a blend of cheeses mixed with chorizo, chiles, tomato, onion, maybe cilantro and garlic, depending on what’s good or needs to get used. Traditional preparation calls for the cheese and the adjuncts to be cooked separately and mixed just prior to serving. Chorizo and veggies are most often sautéed, while the cheese might be prepared via stove top, oven, or broiler. Fundido or flameado are most often served with fresh tortillas as an appetizer, or as a condiment for primary dishes.
There’s somewhere around 40 unique varieties of Mexican queso down there, and they’re every bit as nuanced and delicious as cheese from anywhere else. Sure, cheese came to Mexico because of invading Spaniards and their cows, sheep, and goats, but hey – the locals made the best of it, and they still are – much to our benefit.
There are varieties you can find almost anywhere in Mexico, like Queso Fresco, Panela, and Oaxaca, but there are far more that are truly regional, and home cheesemaking is still pretty widespread. Today there are at least a dozen major cheese producing states and regions. Most of the output comes from raw cows milk, (albeit the mass produced stuff is pasteurized), with a little bit here and there from sheep and goats – And there are efforts underway to increase the output and variety of non-cows milk cheeses.
Until quite recently, finding good quality, genuine Mexican cheese up here in los Estados Unidos was not all that easy, but that’s changing. In a lot of grocery chains, you’ll discover a few mainstays offered, and if your town is graced with a good Latin grocery or two, you’ll probably find a lot more – At the La Gloria market in Bellingham, Washington, I found a thriving, vibrant store packed with great cheese, (and a fantastic carniceria). The counter guy told me that most of the cheese they offer is imported from Mexico, but there are good queseros establishing themselves here in the states as well..
Alright, so – assuming that you can find decent Mexican cheese, what would you want for stellar fundido? There’s a wealth of great melting cheeses that will fit the bill. Here’s my short list, along with reasonable substitutions in parenthesis.
Asadero (Provolone) – This is a slightly chewy fresh cheese with a nice tang. It melts really well, so it’s great for fundido, (or for chiles relleños).
Chihuahua (Jack) – This is my personal fave. From the state of the same name, and sometimes called Menonita in honor of the Mennonite farmers who first introduced it, good Chihuahua is like Jack cheese used (and aught) to be. Fresh it’s like a tangy mild cheddar with a very light bite – aged it sports a deep and complex tang.
Enchilado (Parmesan) – tangy, aged cheese rolled in paprika, that gets crumblier as it gets older – It’s like cotija that’s tastier, less salty and better at melting. Adds a really nice depth to a blend.
Manchego (Jack or Asiago) – The Mexican swing on the famous Spanish variety, this is a semi-firm cheese with a nice nutty flavor that melts very well. It’s a cows milk cheese, as opposed to the sheep milk Spanish version – The fireworks between the two countries over this topic are truly something.
Oaxaca (Mozzarella) – produced in balls as Mozz is, it’s a mild tasty cheese and a great melter.
My thoughts now turn to what you want from this dish when you make it. If you’re intending to eat everything you make right away, then there’s no need to consider the longevity of the final product. If on the other hand, you want queso that you can keep in the fridge for a few days and pull out for quick use, an alternative recipe is in order – I’ve provided the kicker to make that happen as well. Finally, if you want to try a hand at flameado, there’s a recipe for that, too – Just be bloody careful, (and don’t be ripped when you prepare it). It is not necessary to do the table presentation flaming and mixing trick, and I’ll strongly urge you not to try that, it’s all to often a recipe for disaster – you’ll still get is a lovely, smoky note from the tequila.
Fresh chorizo seco
Final note – Chorizo is not necessary for great queso, but it is a delight. Mexican chorizo is a whole different animal than Spanish – There are a bunch of varieties, and every one I’ve tried is great. Unlike the Spanish stuff, which is a hard, cured sausage, Mexican chorizo is a fresh product, perfect for grilling solo, adding to queso, or for tacos, and anything else you like. If you’ve got a good carniceria near you, I’ll guarantee they make it, so snag some.
Queso Fundido de Urban
1 Cup Queso Chihuahua
1/3 Cup Queso Asadero
1/3 Cup Queso Manchego
1/3 Cup Queso Enchilado
2-4 fresh Jalapeño or Serrano Chiles (sub 1-2 mild Hatch, Anaheim, or even sweet bells, if you don’t want heat)
1 small Sweet or Yellow Onion
2 fresh Roma Tomatoes
2-3 cloves fresh Garlic
3-6 stems fresh Cilantro
1 Cup cold Chicken Stock
1 Tablespoon Arrowroot (Corn Starch is OK for a sub)
1 Tablespoon Avocado Oil
Salt and freshly ground Pepper
Optional: 1/2 Pound fresh Chorizo (Or Chorizo Seco if you can get it)
Grate and portion all cheeses.
Stem, trim, and if necessary, field strip chiles, then dice.
Peel, trim and mince garlic.
Peel, trim and dice 1/2 onion, (I like about a cup of diced – Your mileage may vary).
Dice tomatoes (leave them whole and dice – The liquid is a good thing).
Fine dice the cilantro, stems and all.
If including, cook the chorizo in a heavy skillet or sauté pan over medium high heat – Again, you can incorporate this into the queso, per the steps below, or leave it solo – It’s up to you.
Combine arrowroot and cold Chicken stock in a mixing bowl and whisk to completely dissolve and incorporate.
Add avocado oil to the hot pan and heat through. Add chiles and onion and sauté until the onion starts to brown slightly, about 2-4 minutes.
Add the tomato and sauté until they start to break down slightly, about 2-3 minutes more.
Add the garlic and sauté until the raw garlic smell dissipates, about 1 minute.
Add the arrowroot slurry to the veggie mix and stir with a wooden spoon to incorporate thoroughly – Continue mixing until the sauce starts to thicken, about 1 minute.
Add the cheese in batches, (1/3 to 1/2 Cup at a time), and stir to incorporate thoroughly.
If using, add the chorizo to the queso with a slotted spoon and stir to incorporate thoroughly.
Let the queso simmer for about 3-5 minutes so everything heats through and marries nicely.
Serve in a shallow bowl with fresh tortillas, or chips, with fresh pico de gallo, or as a side for tacos, enchiladas, chimis, what have you. If you can get (or make) fresh corn tortillas, that’s what you want.
To make fresh corn chips, preheat oven to 375° F. Cut tortillas into even 6ths, and arrange in a single layer on a baking sheet, and season lightly with salt. Bake for 8-10 minutes, until top side starts to brown, then flip the chips and bake for another 8-10 until golden brown and crispy. Serve hot.
For the Extended Dance Version of Queso –Substitute 1 Cup of Evaporated Milk for the water, add the arrowroot to that, and whisk until arrowroot is fully dissolved. Proceed as per the recipe the rest of the way. The addition of the milk will create a queso that will stay more liquid instead of seizing up as the cheese cools – Will keep in an airtight refrigerated container for 3-5 days, and makes for easy reheating, or even room temp chowing.
For the Flameado – Add 1/4 Cup Reposado or Anejo tequila to the finished queso while it’s still in the skillet. Flame with a match and allow the alcohol to burn off as it does its magic on the top surface of the queso. Always add booze from a separate cup – Never straight from the bottle! And okay, if you really must, you can flame on and then bring it to the table while she’s still lit, but be bloody careful, for Pete’s sake!
When you hear the term ‘pan sauce,’ what do you think of? You do think of something, right? Hell, gravy is a pan sauce, albeit on the heavier end of things – Something lighter than that but still plenty potent is the epitome of this genre, and a must have for your cooking arsenal – They’re easy, fast, and they elevate your cooking game appreciably – I’d argue that employing these well is a trait that separates good cooks from OK ones.
Pan sauces are created from the liquid and the little nasty bits generated by searing or roasting meat or fowl, and that’s why such a simple thing tastes so wonderful. These sauces are traditionally put back on the stuff they’re made from, but if you don’t try them on potatoes or veggies now and again, you’re missing a big treat. Spectacular pan sauces can also be generated from roasting fish, potatoes, and vegetables, so never throw that stuff away.
Pan sauces lend themselves perfectly to meat and poultry for a couple of excellent reasons – First, they add a bit more moisture and pizazz to roasted proteins, and secondly, they can and should easily be prepared during the time those proteins are resting, subsequent to cooking and prior to carving.
In essence, these are emulsions, formed by combining two or more liquids that usually don’t stay together well – AKA fat and acid. Juices from what you’ve roasted, along with the fond, (that’s the hip chef name for the naughty bits left on the pan), provide the core fat component. An acid is added, most often in the form of wine. Then comes seasoning, a little more fat, and a little aromatic base. Everything gets whisked together, et viola. With minimal prep, a pan sauce can easily be put together in the time it takes your steaks or chops to rest.
As for what you should use, it’s really a ‘what have I got’ question. Fresh herbs of any kind pretty much always get the nod. Whatever red or white wine you’ve got on hand will do fine. Onion, shallot, and garlic are all good, as are capers and olives. Used sparingly, dried herbs and blends are fine – just keep in mind that they won’t have enough time to get much past their dried stated in a sauce made this quickly. Citrus makes a dandy minor note.
Get your mis en place together before you start the sauce – that’s key to keeping things simple and fast. On the flip side, don’t leave a pan sauce sitting for very long after it’s done – This is a temperature fused emulsion, and it will separate as it cools – so get it on the plate ASAP to avoid the uglies. You do warm your plates for service, right?
If you try a sauce from potatoes and/or veggies, keep in mind that there’s no fat, so add that accordingly – another couple tablespoons of oil and/or butter will do the trick.
Varying pieces of the puzzle will reward you with whole new flavor profiles – different wine and citrus, maybe a couple drops of Worcestershire or Maggi instead of fish sauce, different herbs or aromatics, mustard, horseradish, sweet minor notes from honey or agave – the sky is the limit, and again, the best way to experiment with this is to search your fridge and pantry and use what needs to be used.
Here’s my fave general purpose sauce to get you started. Branch out from there, and make ‘em yours.
Urban’s Go To Pan Sauce
The good stuff left over in the roasting pan
1/2 Cup Stock (veggie, Poultry, whatever you’ve got)
2 Tablespoons minced Shallot
1/4 small fresh Lemon
3 Tablespoons Ghi (Unsalted butter is fine)
Spring or two fresh Herbs, (Thyme, Oregano, Sage leaves, Rosemary are all great – a light hand of dry is OK if that’s all you’ve got)
3-4 drops good quality Fish Sauce, (Red Boat is my go to)
Pinch of kosher salt
3-4 twists fresh ground pepper.
Pull whatever you roasted from the oven and the pan and transfer to a platter to rest, somewhere warm and loosely covered with metal foil.
Carefully pour off most of the fat from the roasting pan, leaving a couple of tablespoons.
Place the roasting pan on a burner over medium heat, (it’s already hot, so it doesn’t need a bunch of help in that regard – And handle the hot pan carefully!)
Toss in the shower, and sauté until it becomes translucent, about one minute.
Add the wine, and using a fork to scrape up all available naughty bits, and get all of that stuff loose.
Cook until the raw alcohol smell dissipates, about 1-2 minutes.
Squeeze in the lemon juice and whisk to incorporate.
Add the ghi or butter a bit at a time, and whisk steadily to incorporate.
Add the fish sauce and herbs and continue to whisk.
Turn burner heat off, add salt and pepper and adjust as needed.
Slice your protein, sauce, devour, and accept raving accolades from your diners.
There’s a claim that teriyaki was invented in Seattle, which is kind of bullshit and kind of not – the words teri and yaki roughly translate to shine grill, an age old Japanese cooking method of grilling meats basted in sauces.
Teriyaki sauce, on the other hand, is Hawaiian – created when Japanese immigrants combined stuff they knew, like soy sauce and ginger, with new stuff from the islands like dark cane sugar and pineapple juice.
Teriyaki in Seattle was born in the spring of ‘76, when Toshihiro Kasahara opened Toshi’s Teriyaki. Not only did he do OK, he’s still kicking out killer teriyaki from 10 locations up and down the Puget Sound – So he gets full credit for launching a stunningly robust wave of followup teriyaki joints throughout the PNW – now as ubiquitous as espresso stands.
Toshi serves his teriyaki with rice and a tangy slaw, but many joints serve a simple side salad with theirs. Either way, once you’ve tried the really good examples of teriyaki joint salad/slaw dressing, you know you’re hooked.
So, with zero doubt, if you’ve ever had teriyaki in the Pacific Northwest, you’ve had a variant of this dressing. I love the stuff, and I bet you will too. There is no one version – like so many great sauces and dressings, everybody has their own swing at it.
This one is mine, and fair warning, it’s not one of those too sweet, whitish offerings you see from time to time – when it’s fully integrated, it looks like café au lait, but hell, it’s salad dressing, so that doesn’t bother me in the least. It makes a swell marinade for chicken too, by the way – make it with buttermilk and marinate wings before baking them. If you go all out and make fresh mayo at home for this, it’s outrageously good.
Urb’s PNW Teriyaki Joint Dressing
1 Cup Mayonnaise (Or Sour Cream, Mexican Crema, Buttermilk, or Greek Yoghurt)
1/4 Cup Toasted Sesame Oil
1/2 Cup Rice Vinegar
2 Tablespoons Agave Nectar
2 Tablespoons Dark Soy Sauce
1/2 teaspoon Granulated Garlic
1/2 teaspoon Ginger Juice
5-6 twists fresh ground black Pepper
Combine all ingredients in a non reactive mixing bowl and whisk vigorously to thoroughly incorporate.
Refrigerate for at least 30 minutes prior to serving.
This dressing does not store well – refrigerated in clean glass, it’ll last a day or two before the emulsion breaks down – plan accordingly.
UrbanMonique 