Mole: The sauce, not the spy.

Icky thump, who'd a thunk sitting drunk on a wagon to Mexico? Oh wait. That was Jack White, not me. 

On Memorial Day I made mole. 

The holiday and the Mexican sauce are unrelated, of course, I just knew I'd need a few uninterrupted hours in the kitchen to make it happen. And the Tex-Mex of Austin had inspired me. 

I picked up some of the ingredients -- the dried chiles, anise seeds, pepitas, and Mexican cinnamon (called canela and softer than the cinnamon I've known) -- from this place near my house. 

I love that it's a Mexican grocery owned by a Korean man. He wears a UT baseball cap and ends transactions by saying, "Thank you...and gracias," in an accent that doesn't belong to either pleasantry. The whole thing feels very melting pot. 

When I can, I also love, love, love making food that takes time. I can be kind of dramatic about it, frankly...clearing my schedule, announcing to friends for days beforehand that I'll be making [insert culinary process], tromping all over town to find ingredients, laboring over kitchen playlists (see below!), etc. 

Yeah, it's totally nerdy, and mole is perfect for it because the sauce has a gazillion steps that can't be rushed. 

Each set of seeds and nuts must be roasted separately to add depth, and each process comes with its own aroma and sound. The pepitas pop violently, for example, while the sesame seeds just sort of sizzle all cool-like while they fill the room with a big nutty scent that seems too bold for their size.

The chiles -- soft and leathery -- smell like tobacco (or how I might image a man from Havana to smell), before they sweeten when heated in oil. Then there's the blanched almonds…the roasted garlic…toasted coriander seeds (so fresh, exotic!)…and finally the chocolate which adds richness and smooths out the flavor without adding too much sweet. It really is a lovely process!

It took me about three hours to roast and combine all the ingredients. Then the sauce needed to simmer for 45 minutes -- stirring often to keep it from scorching.

After all that time I wasn't about to let it burn on the last step, so I pulled up a stool and a book. Wooden spoon in one hand and a copy of Like Water for Chocolate in the other, I read the chapter on turkey mole, pausing occasionally to inhale deeply over the pot. 

"Just as lovers know the time for intimate relations is approaching from the closeness and smell of their beloved, or from caresses exchanged in previous love play, so Pedro knew from those sounds and smells, especially the smell of browning sesame seeds, that there was real culinary pleasure to come...The almond and sesame seeds are toasted in a griddle. The chiles anchos, with their membranes removed are also toasted -- lightly, so they don't get bitter. This must be done in a separate frying pan...Afterward the toasted chiles are ground on a stone along with the almonds and sesame seeds..."

-- Like Water for Chocolate by Laura Esquivel

Although chicken with mole is traditionally served in pieces with rice. I pulled the meat off the bone and piled it on corn tortillas like an open-faced taco. 

Mole-making music:

Down in Mexico - The Coasters

San Berdoo Sunburn - Eagles of Death Metal

Mexico - Cake

Bernadette - The Kinks

Stormy Monday Blues - T. Bone Walker

Long, Tall Texan - Lyle Lovett

M.E.X.I.C.O. - The Kills

Icky Thump - The White Stripes

Mexico - Merle Haggard

Writer's Minor Holiday - Calexico

Carmelita - Dwight Yoakam

For the mole recipe I followed, click here. 

Plane talk

I say it always pays to request a vegetarian meal on flights. Here's my dinner from a flight to London. I love how it says Pure Veg on the wrapper.


Granted, I'm not entirely sure what kind of veg...but I'd rather eat mystery jicama (?) than mystery meat.

Right now, I’m on a plane bound for Boston (no meals, just nuts). I can’t wait to eat at Neptune Oyster, my favorite restaurant when I lived there, and then Hungry Mother, a newer spot in Cambridge with Southern American and French influence. Update coming soon (along with my Texas-inspired adventure in mole-making over Memorial Day weekend).

Meanwhile…

Things I learned from a man on his cell phone while waiting for the plane to leave for Atlanta:

1. He loves his girlfriend. Or at least he tells her that he does (a lot), even though he phones her when he’s “bored."

2. He’s about to have a birthday! But his girlfriend needs to cancel the plans for the big party. That’s when he’ll be in Japan. His friends just get together and argue anyway. Bummer.

3. He likes to refer to planes parked on the tarmac as tuna cans.

4. He usually avoids the Atlanta airport “like the plague,” but, “you can’t avoid the Atlanta airport when you’re flying TO the Atlanta airport. HAHHAHAHHAAA!!”

5. The girlfriend has a son named Benjamin. She’s totally stressed out. She’s studying for a test that will qualify her to sell beer at Titans games. She’s got lots of reasons why she might not pass, b/c the cell phone guy stays quiet while listening to her. Then he says, ”Would you let Benjamin by on those excuses?” 

For the love of chocolate

Just got back from a hilarious and interesting adventure with my friend Ann in Austin. Although I had not planned on it, I decided to embark on a little mole expedition by tasting it every chance I could get. I'm intrigued by its deeply layered flavor -- savory but with chocolate and cinnamon. I think I'll do some experimenting by making my own this weekend with some Mexican chocolate that my brother sent to me. 

In the meantime, here's a  chocolate-related nugget that I overheard today:

Friend #1: (while eating a Hershey's Kiss)…I love all the foods that
begin with a ch….chocolate, cherries, cheese....

Friend #2: Chianti?

Friend #1: Yes….(pause)….ciabatta…(pause)...Okay, that’s a ci, but even so.

Weekly specials...

1. Just got home from a screening of Food Inc. I laughed, I cried, I considered becoming vegan. But even with it's heavy message about the totally screwed state of agriculture, it also has a power-to-the-people vibe. I'm inspired, and I plan on dragging all my Nashville friends to the Belcourt when it comes back here this summer. 

2. The following video isn't food-related, but I really liked it. I think you will too. Unless you hate things like butterflies and peace and chocolate chip cookies. Then, well, you're on your own. 

Playing For Change | Song Around The World "Stand By Me" from Concord Music Group on Vimeo.

3. My friend Ann(imal) and I put the names of cities in a glass and drew Austin. So we're going there tomorrow. Perhaps the universe has good things in store for us there? At any rate, we'll be keeping it weird like the locals. More later on the fine cuisine of Texas...x

BBQ, not PDQ

I recently watched Pat Martin of Martin’s BBQ Joint prepare a 195-pound hog for his smoker.

But oops. The processor left the pig's head on, so Pat wacked it off with a chainsaw. I wasn't sure whether it felt like a scene from The Sopranos or Sling Blade.

But you know what? Pork doesn’t grow in plastic at the grocery, babe. Don’t like it? Don’t eat it.

And while yeah, I certainly don't advocate for bellying up to a plate of daily pork, Pat at least steers clear of packer hogs, as he calls them, or factory farmed animals. He chooses heritage breeds that actually grow up naturally with their hooves on grass (or mud?) rather than concrete.

Here's a glimpse of the shenenigans (minus the super-gory details) with Pat, his friends and photographer John.

More on Pat later in a story for The Tennessean. He’s one of 14 pit masters in the nation selected for the Big Apple BBQ Block Party in NYC in June. And as he puts it, his pork can “make a puppy pull a freight train.” Word.