Holy Mole Oaxaqueño

Or: Yes, I did disarm the smoke detector on purpose.

“No hay ningun mayor amor que el amor de alimento,” said George Bernard Shaw.

(Well, he said it in English, but I’ve translated it to stay consistent with today’s theme, and for your reading pleasure.) What he actually said was, “There is no greater love than the love of food.” This certainly rings true for me, and served as my inspiration for Valentine’s Day.

I thought long and hard about the best way to really show my love via gastronomy. How can I make something delicious that is also romantic AND not overdone? (I mean that in both connotations; I’m not interested in offering up some tired heart-shaped cookies with pink icing, nor do I want to serve a pork chop cooked to a nice brick-like consistency.) Of course, chocolate comes to mind, but can I make that interesting? Sure, Hallmark has clichéd it all up by loading it with fat and sugar and a nice dose of guilt, but I think chocolate in its pure form is worthy of its romantic roots. The Aztecs started chocolate’s reputation as an aphrodisiac, and they have like 10 gods and goddesses associated with love, sexuality, or pleasure, so they must know what they’re talking about. Anyway, I figured I’d stay away from the red plastic packaging and invoke some serotonin with a traditional love molli. (Meaning, “love stew” à la Náhuatl, which is the language of the Aztecs. That’s right, all kinds of cocktail party conversation starters coming your way today.)

*Note: If you really want to reap the benefits of chocolate, make sure it’s got at least 70% cocoa solids. That’s seductive, complex, dark chocolate folks. Here’s one of my favorite varieties.

So, obviously, chocolate got famous in the dessert sector, but it also has some lesser known hits in many main courses around the world. Think of entrée chocolate as the indy rock band to the pop-radio brownie. The b-side to the Hershey Bar. (I’m a big fan of b-sides myself, so if I were chocolate, I’d take this as a huge compliment.) Since I got my inspiration from chocolate in its original form, I decided to keep it traditional and work with the antioxidant-packed bittersweet variety as a compliment to our other mood-enhancing little friend, the chile pepper. Chocolate and chiles, you say?!? This could be a pairing of the ages. All we need are a few other star ingredients and we have a culinary Traveling Wilburys on our hands. Alright, I’ll stop with the dorky music metaphors.

If you haven’t guessed it already, I decided the best way to incorporate creativity, romance, and deliciousness while using chocolate and honoring its origins was to attempt a traditional Oaxacan mole (moh-LAY) for my Valentine. Oaxaca is famous for its moles, and while there are many varieties of the concoction (seven, actually), the most famous for its chocolatey, spicy complexity is mole negro.

So, why is this a culinary marathon, you ask? Well, if you ask around, most home cooks (and restaurants) don’t make their mole from scratch because it has like 30 ingredients and takes at least a full day to complete. And no, I’m not talking a full day like homemade marinara, where the beauty of the sauce comes largely from simmering it slowly and hanging out drinking Chianti while it’s cooking. (Nothing against homemade marinara. I love me some marinara.) I’m talking a full day of chopping, frying, toasting, roasting, grinding, pureeing, and reducing. A full day. Sorry Rachael Ray.

Just as there are many varieties of mole, there are even more ways to make the stuff. Everyone has his own secret ingredient or special process that makes it his own. This being said, I had no freakin’ idea where to start. So, I read up on a bunch of recipes and theories, but decided next to having an abuela Oaxaqueña to teach me her secret, the Rick Bayless school of thought was my best jumping off point. And now, the marathon begins!

The chiles are probably the most important ingredient, and for those I went to a little tienda in town called Tortilleria Y Tienda de Leon. Inside I found a nice variety of dried peppers, some small bags of whole spices, and (most exciting to me) a huge tortilla press, rolling out fresh, hot corn tortillas by the dozen. I asked if I could buy some of the fresh ones, and the lady handed me a bag of 3 dozen for less than $3. “Still warm,” she said. (Mouth now watering profusely.) I left with guajillo, pasilla, and mulato chiles, a handful of tomatillos in their little husks, some Mexican cinnamon sticks, and my warm tortilla bounty.

So, the final mole is the result of 4 purees blended together, but let’s start with the chiles. The first step to this love potion is to deseed the chiles, reserving the seeds in a bowl. The chiles need to be toasted or fried to bring out their flavor, so I stuck to Rick’s advice and fried them in a little bit of oil, just until they lighten in color slightly and achieve their true piquancy. Next they go into a bowl of warm water to rehydrate for at least 30 minutes.

Chiles, post-fry. (Not beef jerky...)

Mixture #1: Seed and Nut Puree. Now, one of the most unusual steps of the process comes into play. You throw the chile seeds into a dry skillet with a torn up corn tortilla and you burn the crap out of them. That’s right. ‘Til they’re black. (Open windows, turn on the fan, and disarm your smoke detector first.) Seems weird, but it helps your mole achieve that dense, smoky flavor and rich dark color. Once you’ve fully blackened the seeds and smoked out all your roommates, throw those babies in a blender with some chicken stock. Next, toast your nuts. I used pepitas (pumpkin seeds), almonds, pecans, and sesame seeds. (While you’re at it, roast some onions and garlic for later. This multitasking will come in handy.) Into the blender the nuts go with the chile seeds and puree as smoothly as you can. Set this mixture aside.

Mixture #2: Tomato Puree. Blend a can of roasted tomatoes, some chopped tomatillos and chicken stock until smooth. Strain to get rid of some of the seeds, and set aside. (That was an easy one!)

Mixture #3: Spice Puree. Add your roasted onions and garlic (see, I told you), some cloves, cinnamon, black pepper, oregano, thyme, a handful each of raisins and dried cherries, a glob of peanut butter, and a ripe plantain to the blender with some more chicken stock and puree. Set aside.

Mixture #4: Chile Puree. By this time, your chiles should be rehydrated, so add them to the blender with some of their soaking liquid and puree until smooth. You know the drill.

Now you have four purees, and probably a really messy kitchen. But let’s focus on the purees. Add some oil to a large pot or Dutch oven and set to medium-high heat. When hot, add the tomato puree and stir until reduced and thick, like tomato paste. Then add the nut puree and reduce, and repeat the drill with the spice puree and the chile puree. All this stirring and reducing will probably take like an hour, but at this point, who’s counting? Once everything is nicely reduced and incorporated, add chicken broth (Rick says 7 cups) and chocolate (I used an unsweetened variety and a bittersweet variety). Season with sugar and salt to taste. I used a combination of brown sugar and evaporated cane sugar, mostly just because I had both and I wanted to experiment with flavors. The one thing I did that really took it out of me was strain the stuff. Yeah, all of it. I think I did it in about seven batches, and it really did help get ride of the grainy, seedy stuff the blender didn’t catch. Now that you have a smooth, beautifully seasoned, rich molli, throw in a Mexican cinnamon stick and let it simmer on low for, well, I’m gonna say the longer the better. (Now you can break out the wine.)

To make this into a meal, my advice is to keep it simple. (If you just fell out of your chair at the thought of keeping it “simple” after all that, let me explain.) The mole should be the star of the meal (I mean, it better be), so make the other flavors mild. I browned a whole cut up chicken in a large oven-safe skillet, then covered it in mole and braised it in the oven at 350F for about an hour. I served it with white rice seasoned with cilantro and lime and some refried black beans. (You better believe I bought canned refried beans.) Oh, and be sure to serve some warm corn tortillas on the side to help you sop up the extreme deliciousness that is the mole negro you just created.

If you fancy some wine, I paired this meal with a spicy red blend from northeastern Spain. So now you’ve got chocolate, chiles, AND red wine. Could this be any more romantic? I think not. Maybe try some Buena Vista Social Club in the background to set the mood.

Feliz Día de San Valentín