Recipes from the Collection of Mark and Danielle Hughes
|
Stacy's chicken moleServes 6 Chicken: Prepare chicken: Place chicken pieces in a large Dutch oven with garlic and salt. Add water to cover, at least 9 cups. Bring to a boil, then cook until chicken is cooked thoroughly and shreds easily with a fork, about 45 minutes. When chicken is cooked, remove from broth and let cool. Shred meat with fingers, discarding bones and skin. Prepare sauce: Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-low heat. Add 3 tablespoons flour and stir until slightly browned, less than a minute. Add chile powder and stir quickly until dry paste forms. Be careful not to burn the mixture. If you do burn it, throw it out and start over. Slowly add 3 cups broth, stirring constantly to dissolve any clumps. Add salt to taste and stir 3 teaspoons chocolate into the mixture. Taste and add more chocolate if desired. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and let sauce simmer 15 minutes, uncovered. If the sauce seems too thin, stir 1 tablespoon flour into a small amount of water until mixture is the consistency of thin cream. Add to cooking sauce; this will thicken it. If the sauce seems too thick, you can add the additional cup of broth. Add deboned skinless shredded chicken or pour sauce over chicken. Serve with rice and beans. Stacy Diaz SJMN 5-04
Shortcuts make mole suitable for weeknightsBy Stacy Diaz, Mercury News 5/5/04 Chicken with mole sauce was always one of my family's favorite meals. I never could understand why we had it only for special occasions. Then I started cooking. It's no wonder working moms order takeout. The first time I made Grandma's recipe for my newlywed husband, I started early and cooked all day, using what seemed like every dish in the house. I emerged from the kitchen exhausted, burned, in a chile-stained shirt and too full to eat. My husband raved about the meal and praised me, which was fine and dandy. But after that much effort, I felt I deserved more than compliments. I deserved diamonds. And there were still the dishes to wash. Months went by and one day he asked, ``Why don't you make mole again?'' With nostrils flared, I snapped, ``Because it's for special occasions!'' Ten years and two kids later, chicken with mole is a regular on our dinner table. I make it in about an hour (not including time for the 8-year-old asking for help with homework, the 6-year-old looking for his Hot Wheels and my husband asking where the remote is). I'm no magician, but I have reinvented Grandma's recipe and learned to take shortcuts to achieve the same result. OK, I shouldn't say ``the same'' because the first calls I get after this appears in the paper will be from my mom and her five sisters telling me otherwise. I appreciate the way my grandmother made mole , but I don't think these labor-intensive recipes should be saved for special occasions when modern conveniences and commercial products can give us pretty near the same result. Moles -- and there are dozens of variations of this now-famous Mexican dish -- are made from dried chiles seasoned with spices, herbs and, often, a touch of chocolate. Nuts, seeds and day-old tortillas or bread are the traditional thickeners. The resulting paste is simmered with broth from the poultry that you've cooked to be served alongside. When I was growing up, my grandma's mole (pronounced moh-lay) appeared on the table at birthdays, weddings and anniversaries. We poured the thick, brownish-red sauce over chicken or turkey and let some of it flow into the rice and beans on our plates. Grandma is first-generation Mexican-American, and in her years of cooking in Fresno, she made changes to suit the family's tastes. Even she started taking shortcuts, since with nine children she was a little busy. What she made was still time-consuming and still made from scratch. She'd start with dried chile pods, washing, soaking and boiling them until they were soft and plump. Meanwhile, she boiled a chicken with garlic cloves and salt. The next step was to grind the boiled chile pulp, nuts, seasonings and some of the chile water into a paste. When I was in grade school, I remember her grinding all the ingredients by hand with molcajete y tejolote , a rock mortar and pestle. When the electric blender came along, Grandma was happy to switch. Grandma quickly browned the mole paste in a skillet with oil, then stirred in broth from the chicken until the consistency was right. Last of all, she melted in Mexican chocolate. And that was just for the sauce. But her mole was a snap compared with the original. Legend has it the sauce was created in the 1600s by Mexican nuns who were trying to impress visiting dignitaries. It is said they cooked over a three-day period and used more than 30 ingredients. It's no wonder traditions get lost. After my first exhausting foray into mole -making and my husband's innocent question, I, too, began to miss those meals. I thought about the traditional mole sauce that took all morning to make and compared it with the easy red sauce I used for enchiladas. While mole is robust and zingy, with too many flavors to count, red enchilada sauce is mildly inviting, with a spicy taste that lingers in your mouth. But could what I knew about the second be used to streamline the first? Those of you who know Mexican food may be thinking, ``Forget it -- está loca (she's crazy),'' but stay with me. Both sauces contain dried chiles, seasoning and broth. The thickeners are different, though: Mole gets its body from nuts and seeds plus tortillas or day-old bread; red enchilada sauce with flour or a roux. I don't remember when it happened exactly. It may have been one of those days when I started off making chicken enchiladas and realized I had no cheese or corn tortillas. I tossed the shredded chicken into the sauce, but it was missing something . . . chocolate! The beans and rice were made, dinner was served, and the family liked it. I was on my way. I use chile powder to make my mole . I do not have the time or energy after working all day to clean, boil and grind chile pods. (Not to mention they can stain a French manicure beyond repair.) My local supermercado sells chile powders in a bin by the pound, but in any Mexican market, you can buy several kinds in packages. I use different types, sometimes blending the mild California with some bitter and more assertive New Mexico or pasilla chile powders. Boiling a fryer isn't hard, but if I'm pressed for time, I pick up a rotisserie chicken at the grocery store on the way home. Add some rice and beans and that delicious mole sauce, and voilà : It's a special occasion. I'm the first to admit this mole recipe is not for the gourmet who wants to go to Mexico to learn how to cook authentic Mexican food. But it hits the spot, warms your heart and makes an everyday dinner into something out of the ordinary. I made it for my grandma last year. I asked, ``How is it?'' She smiled and said, ``Good.'' ``As good as yours?'' I asked. She looked up from her plate with a little smirk and said, ``No.''
Commercial pastes make mole a breezeIf you're not up to making your own mole, there are commercial products worth trying. One popular brand is Doña Maria; the company sells several types of mole paste, including poblano (almost black, it's the most common type), verde (it's green and includes tomatillos and jalapeños) and pipián (it's dark brown and contains pumpkin seeds but no chocolate). Most of these are made with nuts, so read the label if you have an allergy. To use, combine one part mole paste with four parts water or broth. Broth is better, even if you use Knorr's jarred bouillon granules, because it adds so much more flavor. |