Gorditas el Comal de Doña Meche

Dona Meche in the window of her restaurant in San Miguel de Allende. Photo by Jane Simon Ammeson.


On Calle Margarita Ledezma, not far from El Jardin Principal, the town square of San Miguel de Allende where jacaranda trees bloom, vendors come to sell their wares and even the occasional burro makes its way down the cobblestone street, Dona Meche stands at the open window of her restaurant. In front of her are colorful ceramic bowls brimming with a rich array of fillings she makes every day. What’s in each bowl varies depending upon what’s in season and available at the large open-air market not far away. Today it’s chicken with cactus and potatoes, grilled poblano peppers with mushrooms and cheese, shredded beef in a rich red adobe sauce and picadillo mixed with green beans, carrots and pureed tomatoes.

For ten pesos (approximately a dollar), Meche takes a ball of masa harina and, patting it into a thick circle, drops it into a comal of bubbling hot oil. When it’s just a little golden, she removes it from the oil and cuts a hole in the middle and adds the filling. If you want another, the process starts all over again. Order a glass of aqua de Jamaica (hibiscus flower water), horchata (rice water) or guava juice for another seven pesos.
There’s your meal, simple and pleasurable–the flavors of the fillings are intense, the softness of the gordita melding the taste into a one of a kind treat.

San Miguel Street Scene by Jane Simon Ammeson.

To make gorditas at home, follow this recipe from “One Plate at Time” by Rick Bayless, cookbook author, restaurateur and TV host.

San Miguel de Allende. Photo Jane Simon Ammeson.

Gorditas con Carne Deshebrada
1 1/4 pounds boneless beef chuck steak, cut into 4 pieces
3 small white onions, diced
4 garlic cloves, peeled and finely chopped
1 tablespoon vegetable oil, plus oil to a depth of 1/2-inch for frying
1 (28-ounce) can good-quality whole tomatoes in juice, drained and chopped or 2 cups chopped ripe tomatoes
2 to 3 serranos or 1 to 2 jalapenos, stemmed, seeded and very finely chopped
Salt
1 pound (2 cups) fresh, premixed masa
1/3 cup all-purpose flour
1 scant teaspoon baking power
About 1/3 cup grated Mexican queso anejo or other dry grating cheese, such as Romano or Parmesan
About 1/3 cup chopped fresh cilantro, for garnish

San Miguel Cathedral. Photo Jane Simon Ammeson.

In a medium saucepan set over medium heat, combine the meat with 2 quarts salted water, about 1/3 of the onions, and half of the garlic and simmer until the meat is very tender, about 1 1/2 hours. Strain, reserving the broth for another use.

When the meat is cool enough to handle, shred it into coarse strands with your
fingers or 2 forks–don’t worry that there are bits of onion and garlic mixed with
the meat.

Wash and dry the saucepan, set it over medium heat and add 1 tablespoon of
the oil. When the oil is hot, add half of the remaining onions and cook until
golden, about 6 minutes, then stir in the remaining garlic and cook for another
minute. Add the tomatoes and chiles and cook until most of the juice has
evaporated, about 3 minutes. Stir in the shredded meat and simmer for a few
more minutes, then taste and season with about 1/2 teaspoon salt. Remove
from the heat and set aside.

Heat a well-seasoned or nonstick griddle or heavy skillet over medium heat.
Divide the masa dough into 10 portions and roll into balls; cover with plastic to
keep from drying out. Line a tortilla press with 2 pieces of plastic cut to fit the
plates. Gently press out a ball of dough between the sheets of plastic to about 4
inches in diameter (it’ll be about 1/4 inch thick).

Peel off the top sheet of plastic, flip the gordita, uncovered side down, onto the
fingers of 1 hand, and gently peel off the second piece of plastic. Place onto
the heated griddle or skillet. Bake for about 1 1/2 minutes, then flip and bake for
another 1 1/2 minutes on the other side. The gordita will be lightly browned and
crusty on the top and bottom, but still a little uncooked on the sides. Remove to
a plate. Continue pressing and griddle-baking the remaining gorditas in the
same manner.

When you’re ready to serve, warm the shredded beef. Rinse the remaining
onions in a small strainer under cold water and shake to remove the excess
moisture. Have the cheese and cilantro at the ready.

In a deep heavy medium skillet or saucepan, heat 1/2-inch of oil over medium
to medium-high until the oil is hot enough to make the edge of a gordita sizzle
sharply, about 350 degrees F on a deep-fry thermometer. One by one, fry the
gorditas, turning them after they’ve been in the oil for about 15 seconds, until
they’re nicely crisp but not hard, about 45 seconds total. When they’re ready,
most will have puffed up a little, like pita bread. Drain on paper towels.

Use a small knife to cut a slit in the thin edge of each one about halfway around
its circumference, opening a pocket. As you cut them, fill each gordita with
about 1/4-cup shredded meat and a sprinkling of the onions, grated cheese,
and cilantro.

Line up the filled gorditas on a serving platter and pass them around (with plenty
of napkins) for your guest to enjoy.

Photo Jane Simon Ammeson.

Silver & Tequila in the Sierra Madres: The Tale of San Sebastian de Oeste

High in the Sierra Madres, we follow the twisting road from Puerto Vallarta and the seaside on our way to San Sebastian del Oeste, once a  booming mining town in the Sierra Madres northeast of the city and one of the wonderful Pueblos Magicos or magic towns on Mexico. Our journey took us through green jungles and blue plantations. The latter are agave farms, owned for generations by jimadores or farmers who specialize in growing, harvesting and distilling the pinon or heart of the agave into gold and silver tequila and reposado, a type of tequila aged in oak.

Crossing the long spanned bridge over Rio Ameca, the road curves around a ridge and into the tiny village of La Estancia near Hacienda San Sebastián, a family owned raicilla and tequila distillery (for raicilla think tequila only much stronger and likely of inducing hallucinations in anyone who drinks too much).

San Sebastian, now on the way to nowhere, was for years a major stop between the Bay of Banderas on the Pacific Ocean to Guadalajara when its mines produced riches of silver.

When San Sebastian was at its glory, the residents of Puerto Vallarta, then a tiny port and fishing hamlet called Las Penas, were harvesting salt–a necessary ingredients for smelting the ores taken from the mines– loading it onto mules and trekking 4500-feet up to San Sebastian.  The bridge we cross into San Sebastian takes us from the paved highway main street made of dirt and pitted with rocks. It probably hasn’t change that much since the mules came through carrying salt centuries ago.

Founded in 1605, San Sebastian’s boom lasted until the early 1900s. Because it was so remote, modernization never came again to sweep away the historic buildings dating back centuries.

The families of many who live here now can trace their lineage back to the early Spanish colonial Viceroyalty of New Spain period and the town was wealthy, with some 25 mines producing lead, silver and gold.

Walking along the cobblestone streets, past walls covered with red, purple and orange bougainvillea, we take a turn past the town’s zocolo centered around an ornate gazebo. Nearby is the Colonial Spanish Baroque Iglesia de San Sebastian, notable for such architectural flourishes as Corinthian columns, ornate bell tower, and vaulted ceilings painted with frescos. Dedicated to San Sebastian, the church was built in the 1600s and then, after an earthquake, rebuilt in 1868. As we continue on, we pass the Hotel Los Arcos de Sol with its white washed exterior. It too is old, built more than 200 years with a restaurant that gets good reviews. Along the way there ae small stores, housed in historic buildings, offering a variety of goods but we don’t stop to shop.

Casa Museo de Dona Conchita Encarnacion

Instead we’re on a mission to visit Casa Museo de Doña Conchita Encarnación the small museum run by Lupita Bermudez Encarnacion, the great times four granddaughter of a Spaniard who came here to run Santa Gertrudis, one of the mines here, in the 1770s. There is a hiking path to the old mine.

The museum,  once the home and office of  Santa Gertrudis and built in 1774, is packed with an array of family momentos, furniture, silver studded trunks, books, photos, clothing such as lace and satin christening gowns more than 150 years old and odd artifacts including 3D pornography with its own special reader dating back to 1904 and a 19th century photo of the family holding a cadaver. It seems that, according to Lupita, it was a family tradition that when a family member died, before they were buried (and remember it’s very hot here), a photographer was summoned to take a photo of the deceased. It could take days, but that’s how it was done.

Over all the story of San Sebastian del Oeste is one of glory and loss. At one time the town had a population of 20,000; now there are about 1000. San Sebastian was founded by three families who immigrated from Spain and to keep their blood lines pure, they only intermarried with each other. So through the centuries uncles married nieces and aunts married nephews.  Thus Lupita says that her mother, Dona Conchita, married a man who was  her cousin and nephew and so Lupita’s father was also her nephew, cousin and uncle.

.

As our guide Victor Avila continues to translate Lupita’s many tales, we learn her great great uncle Jose Rogello Alvarez (and who knows how else they were related) and other men, carrying rifles and riding on horseback, guarded 40 mules loaded with silver and gold as they made the five day trip through the mountains to Guadalajara to deposit their money. Then it was five days back on the narrow mountain passage. Of the many runs they made–at least five a year– bandits only managed to rob them twice. Even then the weight of the metal made it impossible for the bandits to carry only much away.

Pancho Villa Ruins It All

In 1910, as the Mexican Revolution raged, Lupita’s family’s wealth disappeared. She blames Pancho Villa and his men who kept raiding the town demanding ransom and money until it was all gone.

Those that probably never got rich were the laborers in the mine who were paid by money printed in the office here by Lupita’s family which made spending it anywhere else except San Sebastian almost impossible. Talk about owing your soul to the company store. As an aside, I’ve visited other mines in Mexico and was told that on the average, because of the dangers of mining (no OSHA here), the life span of a miner was ten years.

Plantacion de Cafe

Organic Coffee Farm

Owners Rafael Sanchez, his wife Rosa and Lola, Rafael’s sister are the fifth generation family members to grow coffee hereLa Quinta Café de Altura, an organic coffee farm.

The family’s home and business is located in a building dating back more than 140 years. Out back they tend 11 acres of coffee trees, some as old as the house. The family handpicks 30 tons of beans each year. They’re then dried, roasted, and gound. Sometimes sold just like that, the family also makes blends such as a mixture of ground beans with cinnamon and sugar for the making traditional Mexican coffee–now hard to find, Hot coffee samples are provided and Rosa’s sells her homemade candies such as guava rolls and sweets made from goat’s milk. In an interesting aside, we learn that the Sanchez’s parents married early (the Don was 15), a union lasting 68 years and producing 21 children. Their grandfather did even better, having 28 children, though that took both a wife and several mistresses. 

Comedor Lupita

Walking along the cobblestone road, past a massive 300 year plus ash tree and cascading white frizzes of el manto de la virgin, we enter Comedor Lupita. Here terra cotta platters loaded with chicken mole, fresh handmade tortillas (in America they’d be called artisan tortillas), refried beans and something I’ve never tasted before – machaca, a dish of dried beef mixed with spices and eggs, are placed in front of us. As we eat, we watch the family busy behind the tiled counter, making even more food.  One woman’s sole job seems to be quickly patting masa into paper thin tortillas. Victor Avila, who lives in Puerto Vallarta, is entranced with that.

“It’s so hard to find handmade tortillas anymore,” he says.

Through the windows we see splashes of bright purple from the masses of bougainvillea that drape the stone exterior walls and here the sounds of caballeros, their horses’ hooves striking the centuries old street. We sip our sweet agua de Jamaica water, eat tortillas fresh from the griddle and help ourselves from heaping platters, we all feel time slipping backwards into the past.  

Machaca Marinade:

1/4 cup Worcestershire sauce
Juice of 4 limes
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 tablespoon cumin
1 tablespoon chili powder
1/2 tablespoon salt
1/2 tablespoon black pepper
1/2 cup olive oil

Machaca:

2 lbs. skirt steak, cut into strips
1 large sweet onion, diced
1 green bell pepper, chopped
4 cloves garlic, chopped
1 jalapeno pepper, chopped
1 14 ounce can diced tomatoes with green chilies
1/2 cup beef broth
1 tablespoon oregano
1 tablespoon cumin
1 tablespoon hot pepper sauce (Tabasco or a Mexican brand, such a Valencia)
Salt and pepper
2 tablespoons oil 

Whisk all the marinade ingredients together, and then add the skirt steak. Marinate at least 6 hours or overnight tablespoon Remove meat from marinade, drain, and pat dry. Bring to room temperature. Discard marinade.
In a large heavy pot, heat oil. Sear the meat well on both sides, in batches so as not to crowd them. Remove the meat as it is browned and set aside.

Drain fat. Add in the onion, peppers, and garlic, cook until tender, then add tomatoes, broth, pepper sauce and spices. Bring to a boil, stirring and scraping the bottom of the pot. Return beef and simmer, covered, for two hours, stirring from time to time until tender. Cool and shred.

Lay meat on a single layer on a baking sheet. Bake at 250º for 20 minutes or until meat is dry. 

Machaca con Huevos

2 chopped scallions (white part only)
1 hot green chili
2 tomatoes
1 cup dried machaca
2 eggs
Chopped cilantro

Sauté scallions and peppers in oil until tender, add tomatoes and beef until heated. Remove from pan, add eggs and cumin. Scramble, then stir machata mixture. Garnish with cilantro and serve with hot tortillas.