MEXICO “MI CORAZON”: HOME & AWAY IN MORELIA

I am about to head off to Mexico City. Those who know me will find the notion that I am about to make the journey by bus an amusing one, but, I am rather looking forward to it.

What I am not looking forward to is leaving the company of my new chums, Cristina and Judy. Cristina is the author of arguably the best blog on Mexican cooking I have come across (www.mexicocooks.typead.com) and the last few days in her company has served as an incredible introduction into the styles of food in this remarkable country.

As a parting meal, Cristina and Judy invited me to have breakfast with them at their stunning home about two blocks from my hotel. She had promised me Chilaquiles. I had no idea what the hell they were, but suspected it would be good so turned up promptly at their place at 10am as requested.

Chilaquiles, so it turned out, is a breakfast dish made of day old tortilla, eggs, chilli and onions.

The onions are fried with a Serrano chilli before the tortilla is torn up and added to the pan and cooked until warmed through. Eggs, in our case two each and two for the pot, are added and cooked until set. The dish is served topped with a liberal drizzle of crema.

Alongside this eggy beauty, Cristina also served up some refrioles which, again showing my ignorance, I thought meant “refried beans” but actually means “well fried beans”

We sat outside in their lovely garden and chatted as we ate until it was time for me to leave them to their real life and head back to my hotel.

This evening, I had one of those, oh so necessary things on the EAT MY GLOBE trip, a night in with some take away food, a large bottle of beer and the TV ( there are many channels in English with Spanish sub titles here, Deo Gratia)

However, this is like no take out I can recall. No putrid kebabs or greasy food from the chip shop or Chinese take away. Here, I was able to buy half a conejo (rabbit) whch came with enough tortilla for six people, guacamole and more refrioles (well fried beans remember?)

The kind lady in the restaurant saw me looking longingly at a large slab of chiccerones, so cut off a big portion as a freebie and crammed it into my bag as I was leaving.

All the above, yours for 60 pesos (that’s about £3 to you and me)

I think I am going to miss Mexico when I come to leave next week.

MEXICO “ MI CORAZON”: DOWN IN THE BASEMENT ON THE DAY OF THE DEAD

After a very enjoyable few days in Guadalajara, I have moved to the altogether more chilled town of Morelia in the state of Michoacan.

When I arrived, things were in full swing for the celebrations for The Day of The Dead, one of the biggest festivals in the town’s calendar. Streets are filled with Offrenda (altars to the deceased) Katrine (stylised skeletons) and flowers of orange and purple.

While all this was going on above ground, it seems only fitting that on The Day of The Dead, I should have my supper underground.

My chums, Cristina and Judy took me to supper at a kermesse. These are fairs, usually held to raise money for a church, where booths are set up selling local specialities. In the case of The Church of The Immaculate Conception, in Morelia, it became such a success, it is now a permanent feature in the basement of the church completed with the funds raised.

When we arrived, the hall was packed with families from grandparents to babies in arms all having a good old scoff.

It operates like a food court. Tickets are purchased from a cashier and then exchanged for food at any one of the twenty or so counters offering everything from Enchilladas to Tamales to drinks of Aqua Fresca in various flavours.

Taking the view that the longest lines must lead to the best food, we began with a Pomboza which is a sandwich stuffed with a hash, dipped in salsa and then grilled. It is a heart attack inducing plateful, but in the way of all good sarnies (see Hot Dogs, Po’Boys and Philly Cheese Steaks) it can be addictively good.

I also wanted to try an enchilada as the only examples I have ever encountered have been the scary, breeze block monstrosities in abominable Tex mex places.

Well, these were nothing like anything I have had before. Tortilla are dipped in a fiery salsa, quickly fried and filled with onions. Then they are topped with a mix of vegetables and hunks of meat, in this case chicken and the lot is topped with the ubiquitous dressings of salsa and queso. It is not an elegant plate to look at, but the taste is something else with the chilli of the chicken flesh working well with soft enchilada.

Similarly, a quesadilla fritas was like nothing I have tried before. Crunchy pockets of corn masa filled with soft, melting queso and topped with a dribble of crema.

No one would ever call this elegant food. It is meant to be tasty, which it is, fill people up (which it certainly does) and cost little (our food cost about £5 in total)

It is not all good either. A drink called Atole is, shall we say an acquired taste. If I was being kind I would say it tastes like flour mixed with condensed milk.

Also, dessert tamale coloured to look like the Mexican flag were dry and tasteless. But, on the whole, this was a great way to eat, to see locals doing what they do and to try some of the specialities from the region.

Dead good you could say. Perhaps not