On the last day and at the last possible minute of our recent Mexico City trip, we almost missed the 8hr. overnight bus to Oaxaca because I couldn’t leave without eating one of the city’s most epic chiles en nogada. Why am I this way?!
When I told my dear friend Ana that I was coming to CDMX, we made it known I would be there for chile en nogada season. I, of course, acted as if I was possessed by the nogada and I just had to have it.
Chiles en nogada come in all variations, but at their core, they are Poblano peppers stuffed with a picadillo made with ground pork (beef and veal are also used), candied dried fruits, finely diced pear, and peaches. The chile is then smothered with a white creamy sauce made with walnuts, queso fresco, crema, and nutmeg. The cherry on top? a smattering of parsley and pomegranate seeds.
Mexican food anthropologist, Ricardo Muñoz Zurita, writes in Los Chiles Rellenos en Mexico: Antología de Recetas, (yes! an entire cookbook on the universe of chiles rellenos) that chiles en nogada first appeared in the history of Mexico with the confirmation of Independence on the 28th of August 1821. It is claimed that they were made for the first time for Agustín Iturbide in Puebla, after having signed the Treaty of Córdoba, which held a significant role in ending the War after Mexico achieved independence from Spain.
Growing up in Central Mexico, Independence feasts are celebrated with chiles en nogada, even down to the red, green, and white colors of the dish, which are of course the colors of the Mexican flag. How. Legendary.
Many people and restaurants claim to make the best one or to have the original recipe from a convent in Puebla. The truth is that each recipe is a completely different version of it, which gives me 100% permission to take this dish to the beach and make the most ethereal and lighter walnut sauce.
There is no chile in my chiles en nogada, gasps! But hey, scallops are here for you. They bring the sweetness of the dried and fresh fruits found in picadillo while bringing a savory note from their crispy golden sear. I make up for the blasphemy of not having a Poblano chile in my nogada by bringing the power back to the garnish. Traditionally, the parsley and pomegranate seeds are almost an afterthought for the sake of a colorful garnish, but picking the parsley leaves off the stems turns a-very-whatever garnish into a herby parsley leaf salad with a lemon dressing that makes the pomegranate seeds pop.
By the way, that reservation-only chile en nogada I had in Mexico City was worth risking it all. Paid subscribers: Scroll down to find out where!
P.S. Gracias Ana for taking us across the city with our stupidly heavy luggage in the Metrobus after feasting on chiles en nogada together. ¡Te quiero por siempre!
On this week’s mixtape, SO MUCH MARIACHI y que viva México.
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