Simmer

With hens, ducks, and geese in the courtyard, my grandmother never worried about making a particular kind of broth. When she needed broth for a soup or a sauce, she might dispatch a skinny old rooster or an old fowl whose useful days were done. If she had a pile of bones and trimmings saved from a big meal with several roasts—chicken, ducks, or a goose—she’d make broth. If the bones were from different kinds of birds, it made no difference: they would go into the pot together. That’s the way I encourage you to think about making broth with this recipe (or even without a recipe). You may not have a skinny old rooster running around, but you can certainly search the supermarket meat case for packages of bony poultry parts, such as drumsticks, wings, and backs, or ask the butcher for backs and ribs. Gizzards are good, too. And you should save and freeze the neck and gizzards that you’ll usually find in a package tucked into a roasting chicken (they’ll all be good in your broth except for the liver). Also, use trimmings and the remnants of your holiday roast. If there’s not enough of one kind of poultry, buy two kinds and cook them together. If you should come across a nice beef or veal bone that you’ve frozen and forgotten, could you use it? Though my recipe does not call for it, here’s what my grandmother would tell you: “So the broth has stronger flavor? That’s good. Throw it in.”

Cajeta is another name for fruit pastes, or ates, and is a term still used in certain states, but the most familiar form of cajeta is the sweet caramel made from goat’s or cow’s milk and cooked down with sugar in copper pots. The goat’s milk has a distinctive grassy, musky flavor and is the most commonly used for this application. The name derives from the wooden boxes called cajetes made from tejamanil or ocote (pine). Adding a little corn syrup helps with the sticky consistency, but it can be left out if you prefer to make it the old-fashioned way. This luscious sauce is wonderful to top (warm) or swirl into ice cream, to accompany pancakes, or, better yet, to eat by the spoonful!

Tejocotes are small fruits similar to crab apples but are quite sour and have inedible seeds. The name derives from the word texocotl, meaning “sour, wild, or hard fruit,” and they are abundant at the end of the year. My maternal grandmother, Juanita, used to make this delicious treat and always reserved a huge jar just for me.

One of my mom’s friends, Yoya, gave me this family recipe long ago and I absolutely love it. Because you caramelize the sugar early in the process, the time it takes to prepare the caramel is much shorter than with other recipes. These make wonderful gifts and are nice to have around for guests.

I know you’re probably thinking, bean candy? That doesn’t sound too good. I was doubtful, too, but I was pleasantly surprised and excited about this wonderful recipe. I am deeply grateful to our dear family friend Amado for getting this recipe that came from his friend. The beans are cooked with cinnamon, puréed, and cooked again with orange juice and sugar. After awhile of stirring, the flavors begin to come together and a wonderful chest nutlike texture is achieved. The paste is then formed into balls and rolled in sugar. I love giving it to people to try and guess what the main ingredient is. Although only one person out of about thirty is able to guess, they all really like it. The original recipe is made with dark raisins, but I prefer to use currants.

Many desserts in Mexico are cooked on the stove and served on a platter at room temperature. This particular one is from the State of Mexico and is prepared for Día de los Muertos celebrations. You can find ground blue corn at many specialty markets or online (see Sources), or you can substitute it for the white variety.

These candies were supposedly created in the Santa Clara convent in the state of Puebla and are sold everywhere in that state. They are long, cigar-shaped pieces of sugary sweet potato flavored with different fruits (mostly using flavorings and added colorings), but this is the basic recipe without any distractions. They are usually made with white sweet potato, but I prefer the flavor of the yellow or orange kind. Although it takes a couple of days to dry out, you can also serve it on a platter once it has cooled (and then you won’t even have to wait to eat it) the way many desserts were served in convents, and decorate it with some fresh pineapple on top.

Ates are fruit pastes made from cooked fruit and sugar, a method that was brought by the Spaniards by way of the Arabs. In the old days, the word ate was put at the end of the main ingredient, such as mangate (mango paste), perate (pear paste), or membrillate (quince paste). Ates are cooked down in copper or heavy pots, and once cooled they are cut up into slices. The more the mixture cooks, the firmer it will be. They are sold in many markets by weight and are also cut into small cubes, tossed in sugar, and then sold in baskets of assorted flavors and colors. Known as ates in the majority of the country, they are also called cajetas (not to be confused with the caramel sauce) in some of the northern states. Quince ate is one of the most common flavors because of its high pectin content, and it is definitely my favorite. Ate can last for a long time (up to two years!). Be sure to serve it with some kind of semifirm cheese that isn’t too salty (it is commonly served with Manchego).

This is one of the oldest beverages in Mexico and uses two of the main ingredients indigenous to the Americas: cacao and corn. It is essentially a thick corn beverage made with a bit of chocolate and lightly sweetened. It is sold in markets, outside bus stations, and near churches. It is present at many celebrations, from birthdays to baptisms, and is a popular accompaniment to sweet tamales. This recipe was given to me in the state of Tabasco, where I visited some wonderful cacao plantations that are lucky enough to have the ivory criollo bean, one of the highest quality in the world. Originally, champurrado was made with the shells of the toasted beans, but it is now made with the chocolate tablets used for chocolate caliente. If you don’t have any homemade tablets or can’t find them in the store, you can substitute the same amount of bittersweet chocolate and add another stick of canela.

This is a very fragrant fruit punch enjoyed in the posadas and at end-of-year reunions all over Mexico. It is cooked in large batches and the aroma warms you from the moment it reaches your nose. Adults enjoy the punch with a bit of booze and call it piquete. I particularly like the ones made with tamarind because of the nice tartness that balances the sweetness of the piloncillo. Hibiscus flowers can be used if you want a nice burgundy color. Feel free to replace the fruits that you can’t find or don’t like for those of your own choosing.

Before roasters existed, coffee used to be toasted in ceramic plates and ground in hand mills or metates (a stone tool used to grind seeds and other ingredients) in small batches. Many small towns still prefer to hand grind their beans to prepare this aromatic spiced coffee.

It is believed that in the eighteenth century, egg whites were used as a sort of glue to bind sheets of golden and white gold. There were many leftover yolks that were then used to create various sweets and to thicken others, such as rompope. This eggnoglike beverage is wonderful served cold year-round. I like to put it in the tres leches mixture (page 142), use it to top ice cream, and make a gelatin with it (page 138). It is still sold in many convents around Mexico. Estela Romo de Vivar makes one of the tastiest almond versions I’ve had.

Amaranth was a primary source of protein and an essential part of the diet for the pre-Hispanic population of Mesoamerica. It was often described as the “golden grain of the gods.” The seeds from the plant are considered one of the most nutritious grains and are a good substitute for wheat for those on a gluten-free diet. I like it simply for the flavor. I think it’s pretty awesome that the conquistadors forbade its cultivation because it was associated with human sacrifice, and yet, because of some “rebels” who valued the importance of their culture and traditions, it is still around thousands of years later. That surely should not go unnoticed! You can buy amaranth fl our and puffed amaranth in some health or specialty food shops and online (see Sources).

The word atole comes from atl, “water,” and tlaoli, “ground corn.” These beverages have been consumed since pre-Hispanic times and the variations are countless. Made with water, milk, or a combination of the two, and commonly thickened with masa, the beverage is also made with ground toasted corn, fermented corn, rice, oatmeal, fresh corn, or mature corn cooked in ashes. It is sweetened with sugar and/or piloncillo and often mixed with fruit. This drink is enjoyed with sweet tamales early in the morning or at night. This atole is very popular in Michoacán, and I want to thank Ernesto Hernandez Doblas for the recipe.

PAT Gina would happily eat cashew brittle any time of day or night. She calls it “a crunch of heaven.” When I’m in the doghouse, this is usually what gets me back in my bed and off the sofa. So, fellows, if you are like me and never know the right gift to purchase for your wife or girlfriend, make this fantastic dessert (featuring a smooth and buttery pudding to dip the brittle into) and she will forget all about whatever mistake you may have made (or wrongheaded gift you may have bought). GINA This butterscotch-pudding recipe is very special to me. Growing up, I was always fidgety (especially in church). So my mom and my great-great-grandmother (Mama Callie) would always give me butterscotch candies to keep me still. To this day, I go all soft and quiet when I taste its buttery, rich, and smooth flavor. But the cashew brittle has a story to go with it, too. When I was pregnant with Shelbi, brittle was the only quick fix for my cravings. Pat would buy it by the pound; I’m sure people thought he was crazy, but at the time he didn’t know how to make it. We finally made it on the show as a tribute to that crazy time in our lives. Combining these two favorite flavors, with so much meaning and good memories behind them, is my version of sweet, salty, smooth, and crunchy heaven. This is as good as Christmas morning—new-shoes-and-a-handbag happy.

GINA This is not your off-the-shelf variety of cranberry sauce, although that can work in a pinch (remember my emergency run to the store during my first Thanksgiving at Mama Neely’s?). In this recipe I’m talking sweet, zesty, spicy, and savory: you don’t know whether to slow-dance or cut a jig. I say mix it all up, just like the relish, and let it go.

The key word here is “Gouda”: it takes your mashed potatoes right to the VIP list. This way, please!

The great thing about this glaze is that it can be used for any grilled meat. You can brush it onto pork chops, chicken, ribs—anything you feel like grilling on game day!

Fall is a perfect time to try this bisque. The healthy and delicious sweet potato, which certainly represents the season in our home, is one of the stars of the soup. And if you’ve got leftover pumpkin flesh after carving your decorations, you can always substitute that for the canned purée. Using chicken broth instead of water gives this thick soup a rich-tasting down-home flair.