Guajillo Chile

Mexican Red Sausage The craving for chorizo is just as evident in its adopted home of Mexico as it is in its original home of Spain, and in both countries the cuisine would be unimaginable without the sausage. The main difference between the two is the use of the more potent chile in the Mexican chorizo and the milder dried pimiento in the Spanish sausage. Over the years, I have spent time in and around Toluca, the capital of the state of Mexico, where a conclave of Spanish settlers introduced pigs into this high valley. The Spanish historian Carlo Cereya suggests that "although the horse was of real significance in the conquest, the hog was of greater importance and contributed to a degree that defies exaggeration." Here, the Spaniards began making their beloved sausage, soon adapting it to local culture by adding chile. One of the main features of the huge, rambling Friday Mercado Juárez (now moved from its longtime site) is stalls cascading with ropes of both red and herb green chorizos, the latter a more recent version. Some of the chorizos verdes glisten with an almost-brilliant green artificial coloring and are to be shunned. This recipe for traditional red chorizo is an adaptation of a recipe used by one of the leading sausage makers in Toluca, second-generation Jorge Figueroa, who makes it in voluminous quantities to sell to the throngs of waiting customers at his family shop, Carnicería La Figueroa. Ricardo and I use chorizo in a wide variety of dishes, from Frijoles Puercos con Chorizo to Tinga de Cerdo. Although chorizo is usually stuffed into pork casings, it is a lot less work to make it in bulk and freeze what is not needed right away. I have provided directions for both links and bulk here. If you opt for links, you will probably need to special order the casings (salted, well-cleaned small pig intestines) from a butcher. Do not be deterred and use synthetic casings, as they are not satisfactory.

Barbacoa de Cabrito This goat barbecue typifies a style where the meat absorbs an adobo, a fragrant, spicy marinade of dried chiles and other seasonings. I watched Zoyla Mendoza make this dish in her village, Teotitlán del Valle. Though she and her family can well afford to eat meat, they usually save it for special occasions, so they rejoiced when I asked them to teach me their favorite barbacoa. It was beautiful, breathing the scent of fresh avocado leaves and other herbs. The meat becomes unbelievably tender without drying out or getting mushy. When I came back to my New York kitchen, I set to work to find other methods close to the tender savor of a true pit barbecue. For the type that Zoyla showed me, I feel the best results come from packing the marinated meat in a tightly covered pan just large enough to hold the ingredients and baking it for a long time in a moderate oven. A turkey roaster is good. If you don't have a big enough pan with a tight-fitting lid, wrap several layers of aluminum foil very snugly around the pan to seal in the steam. I make the barbacoa as Zoyla made it, with young goat (kid). Goat is available in some Greek, halal Muslim, and West Indian butcher shops and can sometimes be ordered from other butchers. Ask the butcher to cut it into quarters. Oaxacans always include and specially value the head, which has some extra-tender nuggets of meat. (This is optional for the doubting.) If goat is not available, lamb is the best substitute. At my restaurant, we use lamb shoulder. The dish can also be made with a whole fresh ham or a pot-roasting cut of beef such as round, though you may have to reduce the amount of marinade slightly and experiment with a shorter cooking time. Of course true pre-Hispanic barbacoa was made with turkey—not used as frequently nowadays, but still a notably authentic choice. When the meat is cooked in an authentic pit it yields a lot of rich juices that never develop using the oven method. At my restaurant in New York we approximate this as follows: When the adobo (chile paste) is made, set aside 1 1/4 cup of the mixture and rub the meat with the rest. Cook as described below. When the meat is done, skim the fat from the pan juices and deglaze the roasting pan with 2 cups homemade chicken broth over medium-high heat, scraping up the browned bits. Stir in one 28- to 32-ounce can tomatoes, breaking them up with a spoon. Add the reserved adobo and simmer, stirring frequently, for about 30 minutes, or until reduced to about 4 cups. Let cool slightly and purée in a blender (working in batches as necessary) until smooth. Serve with the carved meat.

This spiced-up blend is perfect for dipping and also serves as the ultimate multipurpose sauce for chicken, beef, pork, and seafood.

There are two secrets to outstanding guacamole: chop the avocados instead of mashing them, and include a smoke-flavored chile. The richest and most flavorful avocados are the rough-skinned Hass variety. Because avocados turn dark when exposed to air, store guacamole in a bowl with plastic wrap pressed directly onto the surface. Make it within hours of serving.

This favorite of American households is the usual “starter” taco served at schools, airports, and drive-ins, and undoubtedly what most of us picture when we think of tacos. It’s the familiar fried folded corn tortilla shell layered with shredded iceberg or romaine lettuce, piquant fresh tomato salsa, and a cumin-flavored ground beef filling topped with grated cheese—but this one is so much tastier. As with any taco served in a crispy shell, fill and eat it right away or it will get soggy. Try to buy a high-quality ground beef, preferably pure ground chuck with a 25 to 30 percent fat content. Less expensive hamburger grinds will work fine, but they won’t be as flavorful or juicy.

Be sure your kitchen is well ventilated when you soak the New Mexican and guajillo chiles; their vapors can be a mild irritant.

This is a classic taqueria dish that is even better when made at home. Although the preparation takes some time, enchiladas are delicious and fun for parties or potlucks. You can fill and roll the tortillas ahead of time and then top with the sauce and cheese and bake immediately before serving. To make cheese enchiladas, omit the chicken and fill the tortillas with cheese; pour the sauce over all and proceed.

Sangrita is actually a spicy cocktail mixer meant to be sipped alternately with shots of tequila. However, it can also make a perfect nonalcoholic option to serve at brunch or as an aperitif. Fresh citrus juice adds a bright note, while the guajillo chile and smoked paprika add earthiness (and, of course, smokiness). Caramelizing the onion instead of adding it raw mellows out the flavor and adds a touch of sweetness.

My old friend David Garrido, a supremely talented chef, came up with a fresh take on mole that combines guajillo chiles with fresh basil, bananas, and dates to create a lively, fruit-sweetened sauce that marries beautifully with chicken. I love this dish for a relaxed but elegant dinner party at home. Skinny bi***es take note: the dish contains little fat, lots of flavor.

Posole is a pork-based soup that’s really a cross between a soup and a stew. Apart from the pork, the main ingredient is hominy—white corn kernels that have been soaked in lye. Many Texans profess to love posole, but I’ve always found it impossibly bland. That is, until I tried Rosa’s version, which she transformed from blah to bueno with the addition of a flavor-packed red chile sauce. Rosa, a native of Mexico City, has worked at Rather Sweet since it opened almost ten years ago. A traditional Mexican concoction, posole comes in many styles, and is often prepared on feast days or to celebrate the new year, says Rosa. Sounds like a natural party food to me. I like to serve Red Posole as a main course for an informal dinner party on a cool night. Make a big batch of guacamole (page 255) and set out bowls with all of the traditional posole accompaniments—lime wedges, thinly sliced radishes, lettuce, and green onions. Serve the posole in the Dutch oven you made it in, or seize the chance to use that old-fashioned soup tureen you inherited from Great-Aunt Belle. Decorate your serving table with a Mexican-style tablecloth or a colorful runner. Bundle cloth napkins with the necessary silverware and set out a stack of deep soup bowls and small plates. Let guests serve themselves buffet style. Complete your stress-free, do-ahead dinner with a large pitcher of White Sangria (page 175) and a combination plate of Chile Crinkle Cookies (page 206) and Chubby’s White Pralines (page 68).

Loosely translated as “Devilish Shrimp,” this dish packs a good punch. My friend Rene’s mom cooked this for me several years ago. I soon became hooked and started re-creating my own version at home, incorporating Sriracha. The dried chiles don’t have a substitute perse, and should be sought out, as they contribute the unique smoky/fruity/spicy combo that makes this plate divine. They are available online or at any Latino market.

This type of ice is very popular, and why wouldn’t it be? It has the perfect combination of sweet ripe mangoes, spiciness, a little acidity, and saltiness. This recipe calls for chamoy, a sauce or condiment made from pickled fruit, usually apricots or plums. Chamoy is a little salty and acidic and it’s an acquired taste, but I personally love it and encourage you to try it if you haven’t.

On the few nights that he is not at Lantern, Miguel cooks Mexican at home. He has not seen his family since moving to North Carolina in 1999, and the goal of his home cooking is to make his dishes taste as close to his mother’s and grandmother’s as possible with the ingredients he can get here. He thinks that he is getting close with these carnitas.

Chef Todd Aarons of Tierra Sur at Herzog Wine Cellars in Oxnard, California, shared this recipe as part of a Hanukkah cocktail party menu he created exclusively for Epicurious. Aarons insists this dish is even better the next day, so braise the meat the day before then quickly assemble the sliders before serving. The spicy pulled brisket also makes great tacos, served with corn tortillas and garnished with red onion and chopped fresh cilantro.

Editor's note: Chef Roberto Santibañez, the chef/owner of Fonda in Brooklyn, New York shared this recipe as part of a festive taco party menu he created for Epicurious. To make tacos, you'll also need 24 to 32 warm corn tortillas, 2 cups of salsa, chopped white onion, chopped cilantro, and lime wedges. Santibañez recommends serving the tacos with Fresh Tomato Salsa , Roasted Pineapple Salsa , or Taco-Shop Guacamole, a blend of avocado and tomatillos. This heavenly steak is the kind of treat you'd get in tacos at the little stands in Mexican markets, tucked into warm tortillas and topped with spicy salsa. I love the beefy flavor, the chew, and the low price of skirt steak, but you can use any type of steak you'd like. If it's a thick cut, just sear it in a hot pan, then finish it in an oven preheated to 350°F.

This is no ordinary turkey. Food editor Lillian Chou blended toasted guajillo and ancho chiles with a range of spices and aromatics to create a brick-red adobo sauce that seasons both the bird and its gravy. After a long marinate, the adobo permeates the bird's juicy meat during roasting. The resulting turkey features a savory complexity heightened by the accompanying red-chile gravy.

In Guadalajara, this is not an uncommon breakfast, served with warm tortillas and sometimes rice and beans—since it is tequila country, we can only imagine that it's probably an excellent hangover remedy—but it's definitely flavorful enough to be a big hit at dinnertime, too. We particularly like the richness and suppleness of skirt steak, but any cut of beef with a pronounced grain, like flank or brisket, will do.

Thickened with peanuts like some Veracruz sauces, and made with the classic Mexican technique of blending and then frying the sauce ingredients, this mild chili makes for an earthy modern-day meal.

Carne de Puerco con Chile Guajillo To bring out pork's flavor, try the classic Mexican technique used in this recipe: First simmer the meat, then fry it in its own rich fat. Don't be alarmed by the amount of chiles in the sauce, as mild guajillos simply lend flavor and body.

(Mole Negro de Teotitlán) Editor's note: The recipe and introductory text below are excerpted from Zarela Martinez's book The Food and Life of Oaxaca. Martinez also shared some helpful cooking tips exclusively with Epicurious, which we've added at the bottom of the page. To read more about Martinez and Oaxacan cuisine, click here. Mole Negro is the state dish of Oaxaca, the king of moles. It also happens to be the most difficult to make. People pride themselves on their own different touches, and family recipes are passed down as heirlooms. Market stands specializing in moles all proclaim that their version is the best. This recipe is an adaptation of a version made by my friend and culinary mentor Zoyla Mendoza, who has given me such insight into the cooking of the Valley Zapotecs. When she made it for me at her home in Teotitlán del Valle, she first toasted the chiles, nuts, and spices and sent them out to a nearby mill to be ground. Meanwhile, she pounded the tomatoes and other moist ingredients in her big stone mortar, to be combined later with the nut and spice paste. Less sweet than many other versions, her Mole Negro is spicy and intense — I love the sprightly taste of fresh ginger. Increase the amount of clove and thyme in the recipe if you wish. Zoyla used much more of both than I do. Though Zoyla's version of Mole Negro is less complex then some, it shows the crucial "blackening" feature of most black moles. For years I'd made versions that turned out no blacker than dark red. An offhand remark revealed what I was doing wrong. "Queman los chiles" ("They burn the chiles"), a Juchitecan woman casually told me when I asked her. My instinct said that it would turn the whole dish bitter, so I'd just been toasting the chiles lightly. But in Oaxaca it is normal to make Mole Negro by first separating the seeds from the dried chiles, then toasting the chiles to an absolute crisp and literally burning — BURNING — the seeds. Zoyla also follows this procedure. The bitterness disappears through soaking and extended cooking. Because the pungent fumes can leave you gasping and call down the wrath of neighbors in city apartment buildings, it is wise to attempt this recipe only if you can do the worst part (burning the seeds) outdoors or with a good exhaust fan going full blast. You should also work out an advance plan for the final grinding of the paste. You can either combine all the ingredients and process them in several batches in the blender or assign part of the task (the chiles, nuts, and spices that Zoyla sent out to the mill) to the food processor. Read the recipe through carefully in advance, and decide which strategy you prefer. (The processor alone will definitely give the wrong texture.) This sauce is popular with enchiladas and shows up in chicken, turkey, or pork tamales. But the age-old way of eating black mole is with boiled turkey. In this country, use turkey parts like wings or drumsticks and simmer for 35 to 40 minutes in a small amount of stock, then finish cooking in the sauce for another 30 to 40 minutes. Please note that when served in this manner with poultry or other meats, the sauce should be thinned to a fairly light consistency. When it is used as a filling, it must be dense and thick.