Don't cook the meat too long. Let the juices collect. |
Let’s gird our loincloths and travel on a culinary field trip, back through time to Mesoamerica, when men were warriors and virgins got stuffed into active volcanoes. Think about that. If you were a virgin, could you think of a way to quickly and pleasantly disqualify yourself for the volcano event in the Mesoamerican Olympics?
Ah, but time to get my mind out of the volcano and back on the pebble-strewn mountain trail to culinary adventure. Let’s go to Pozole-ville.
Chili ain’t the only meal-in-a-bowl to come roaring out of Mesoamerican culture. But, if you haven’t heard of pozole (po-zoll-ay), sit down, and pull up a spoon. You might also want to pull out a pencil, pen, quill, or sharpened stick to jot this down: pozole is frequently spelled posole, posolii, or pozolé. But, anyway you want to scratch it, it’s a combo of corn and meat.
Pozole possibly began (historians can be so circumspect) as a religious holiday dish, with human flesh as the meat ingredient. Ground corn, in the eyes of the Aztecs, formed the dough from which God made humans, so human flesh and ground corn made an ancient ‘happy-meal’ combo. The heart was torn out of the victim, with the rest of the meat chopped and mixed with corn and water. It was then served as a communal (communion) feast. Kinda makes you want to stick with the work-week and skip the holidays, doesn’t it.
Don’t know about you folks, but when people speak about the innocence of the tribes that tomahawked up and down North and South America, call me skeptical.
Eventually, as the Conquistadores brought Catholicism to the tribes and put a stop to profiling virgins, and consuming your loved ones in pots of boiling corn, the ingredients of pozole changed. Now it’s a nice little dish, easily made, that your family can enjoy without looking around suspiciously, wondering why Aunt Rosy is missing.
I told you the two main ingredients are corn and meat. There are three varieties of corn, red corn (popcorn), sweet corn, and field corn. In pozole, we use hominy, which is field corn soaked in slaked lye (lye cut with water) until the hulls come off. Hominy, by the way is taken from the Powhatan tribe’s word for maize. Maize, on the other hand, etc, etc.
Making Pozole
1 1/2 pounds ( .75 kilo) pork cut in 1 inch (about 3 cm) cubes.
6 Cups chicken stock (1.5 litre)
1 Can tomatoes (about 15 oz or 430 gr) undrained
1 Can pinto beans with jalapeños, undrained
2 Cans hominy (drained, but not rinsed)
2 dried California (or similar) chilies
1 onion, chopped
3 cloves garlic, chopped
2 heaping Tablespoons cumin
1 heaping Tablespoon of marjoram (or substitute oregano)
1 heaping Tablespoon smoked paprika
1 teaspoon red pepper flakes
salt
Pepper
Chopped onion, chopped fresh cilantro, and shredded cheese for garnish.
Flour tortillas to accompany.
Preparing the meat:
Mix the pork with 1/2 chopped onion, 3 cloves chopped garlic, cumin, red pepper, paprika, marjoram, salt, pepper. Fry in a large pan (or fry in small batches) with a little bit of olive oil. Do not overcook the meat. It will continue cooking in the broth. After it lightly browns, take the pan off the heat and set it aside. Juices will collect in the pan and will be added to the broth later.
Preparing the broth:
Step 1: Heat two cups of chicken broth in a small pot, then set aside. Scorch the dried chilies in a hot frying pan. Use no oil. Don’t let the chilies burn, but a few black spots are ok. Take them out of the pan; snap off the stems, shake out the seeds and let the chilies soak in the hot chicken broth until they are soft, about ten minutes.
Step 2: Put the soaked chilies and their chicken broth in a blender. Add the can of tomatoes and blend well. Meanwhile, heat the remaining four cups of chicken broth in a large pot and add the contents of the blender to it. Add the remaining 1/2 chopped onion and the cans of pinto beans and hominy.
Putting it all together: As the broth mixture comes to a boil, add the meat and meat juices that have collected. Turn down the heat and let the dish simmer for about 30 minutes.
I’ve found it’s better to let the dish simmer for 30 minutes, let it cool and then reheat it. That further allows the flavors to blend.
Garnish the individual bowls of pozole with chopped onions, chopped cilantro, and shredded cheese.
Makes you feel like a real Mesoamerican warrior, don’t it, or at least want to start your own religion involving pozole and virgins.
Delicious antiquity in a bowl |