Dairy Free

Every family has a recipe that is a well-kept secret. This one, created by my aunt Marcela, is ours. It took some major coaxing to convince her to let me in on the details. Chile-lovers, this is for you! Yellow chiles are left whole and are meant to be eaten in between bites of tacos or any grilled dish. If you want to get adventurous, try dipping sushi in the spicy lime-soy sauce.

My aunt Martha swears that this smoky, sweet, tropical salsa takes her back to Yucatán no matter where she is when she makes it. It works especially well with Cilantro Tandoori Chicken (page 110), but it will enhance any grilled fish or meat. If the grill’s fired up, throw the pineapple right on it; a grill pan will do just fine if you’re cooking indoors.

Nuts and seeds have been making their way into Mexican sauces and salsas for centuries. The nutty sesame seeds in this salsa, which is served at a very popular small restaurant in Tijuana called Mi Rincón Cenaduria (My Restaurant Nook), give it body and depth. Use this on steak tacos or even with grilled chicken. Peanuts can be substituted for the sesame seeds.

A fresh salsa verde, or green sauce, made with tomatillos is a perfect condiment for almost any meal (I like it on grilled chicken tacos), and just as good as a dip for tortilla chips.

Couscous, made from semolina, is a staple in North African cuisine. Here it is infused with spicy chiles and cinnamon in this easy-to-whip-up salad that would pair nicely with grilled lamb or poultry.

Refried beans are frijoles de la olla that have been fried in a little fat. Because they are traditionally cooked in lard, they aren’t really known for their healthful qualities, but this version uses a fairly small amount of butter and olive oil instead. You still get a very rich and flavorful dish that is perfect for filling tacos or for serving alongside grilled steaks. Double or even quadruple this recipe as needed.

I could easily survive on beans and tortillas for days—or even weeks. In fact, that is pretty much what my diet consisted of when I worked as a food editor. I was both nostalgic and barely able to make the rent at the end of the month, and let’s face it, beans are cheap. Frijoles de la olla are just that: beans (frijoles) that come straight from the pot (olla) to your plate. No fussy seasonings, just perfectly cooked beans that are heaven in a warm tortilla with a drizzle of Mexican crema or sour cream. I always have a batch in the fridge to heat up for a hearty and very healthy dinner packed with cholesterol-lowering fiber and a good dose of protein, iron, potassium, and vitamin B1.

This dish is one of the standouts at the Valladolid Thanksgiving table. Roasting acorn squash—or any vegetable—caramelizes the flesh and brings out its natural sweetness. Your veggies will be exponentially more flavorful than they are when you boil or steam them.

Pickled veggies show up on tables in many restaurants, bars, and homes across Mexico. These are great alongside meat, atop a quesadilla, or alone as a happy hour snack.

My dad, Antonio (a.k.a. Tony), inspired this dish. Like a painter’s body of work, his culinary life is marked by distinct periods. When he went through an osso buco period, I decided that if I was going to be making a lot of osso buco, it was going to be a Mexican osso buco, spiked with lime, chiles, cilantro, and garlic.

This shredded beef salad is perfect for a crowd or for a leftover-friendly family. It actually tastes better a day or two after you make it, when the flavors have had more time to combine. Although capers aren’t traditionally found in salpicón, I think they make perfect sense in this summer dish, adding just a touch of salt.

Chocolate and chiles have been paired up for centuries in Mexico. Ancho-infused hot chocolate was a drink reserved for royalty, believed to produce strength and virility. The combo is especially tasty with beefy short ribs. You can substitute bittersweet chocolate for the Mexican chocolate; just add a pinch each of sugar and cinnamon and a few drops of almond extract—the ingredients that make Mexican chocolate unique.

When it comes to pork loins, I am very much in favor of brining. You do have to start a day ahead, but the end result is succulent and juicy.

I’m a little obsessed with mole (Mexico’s national dish, also known as mole poblano). I even visited its birthplace, the Convent of Santa Rosa in the beautiful colonial city of Puebla. Traditional mole takes days to make and is just as marvelous and multileveled as the most complex French sauce. Here you get a much easier version with nearly authentic results in terms of flavor. Do a little experiment and taste your mole right before you add the chocolate and then right after you add it. If you don’t get what it means when gourmands talk about “depth of flavor,” you’ll get it when you make this comparison. My great-grandmother, grandmother, mother, and I all like to sprinkle it with plenty of additional sugar and a dollop of sour cream after it’s on the plate. You can make the sauce on its own and use it for very impressive enchiladas—or do as I did when I was a kid: spoon a few tablespoons over Mexican rice and chow down.

Yes, I use canned tuna for this dish—and you will love it. I generally prefer fresh ingredients over packaged items, but these stuffed peppers are worth breaking the rule. The mild flavor of the canned albacore allows the flavor of the pickled onions to shine through. My aunt Laura, who passed this recipe on to me, makes it with canned chiles (they are available in Mexico already charred, peeled, and ready to stuff). But for me, half of this dish’s success is the exquisite smell of the chiles charring on the burner. You can’t buy anticipation in a can.

This is a light, healthful Mediterranean-inspired dish that is super-easy to make and can be on the table in 20 minutes—great for a weeknight dinner for two. If you have a crowd (or a big family like mine), go ahead and adjust the recipe accordingly. A note about anchovies, which I think get a bad rap: They are actually a wonderful way to add salt to a dish or sauce and are very popular in some Baja dishes (like the world-renowned Caesar Salad). Fresh anchovies have a gentler flavor than those packaged in a tin, but either will work here.

Sarandeado, as a technique, refers to grilling a cleaned fish in a basket, constantly flipping it from one side to the other in order to preserve all the juices and flavors before they seep out of the fish. In this recipe we use the oven, so there’s no need for a fish basket or even a grill. It is essential, however, that you use a properly butterflied fish (the skin prevents the juices from seeping out and yields a moist and succulent fish). I strongly suggest asking your fishmonger to do it for you.

Traditionally served with roasted small white potatoes (papitas de cambray) or white rice, this dish is a great representation of the European influence on the cuisine of the Gulf of Mexico. Add raisins and a pinch of cinnamon if you want some sweetness to contrast with the savory capers and olives; for a traditional take, garnish the fish with pickled jalapeños. Either way, a crisp white wine makes a lovely accompaniment.

Nopales are cactus paddles. They may be hard to come by if you don’t live in a border state or have access to a Mexican market. If you’re lucky, you’ll find prickly pear cactus paddles, which are packed with soluble fiber, vitamins, and minerals and reduce the glycemic effect of a meal. The stuffing is the star of this recipe, so if nopales are nowhere in sight, you can use corn tortillas for equally delicious (although not as pretty) results. At my house, we grill plain nopales until they are tender and a little charred and serve them with some lime wedges.

The idea for this dish comes from a chef at culinary school who liked to bread salmon with shredded russet potatoes. Sweet potatoes add a whole new dimension to this delicate crust—a perfect counterpoint for the smoky sauce.