Nut

My mother’s friend Yoya Estrada is one of the sweetest ladies I’ve ever met, and she transmits her kindness through her hands. She shared this family recipe from Durango with me a few years ago, and it’s one of my favorites. It lasts awhile if it’s well wrapped. Enjoy it sliced on its own or serve it with an assortment of cheeses, even though that is not the traditional Mexican way.

It was dark and chilly outside as my friend Claudia Santa Cruz showed me how to make these marvelous crunchy morsels. As the egg whites whipped, her youngest daughter (about eight years old and a natural-born chef) measured the sugar she would later carefully pour. We moved to the dining room and three generations filled countless trays of the white kisses that would sit in the oven overnight. Claudia’s mother took several to her home because they didn’t all fit in the oven. I woke up around 5 A.M. to take a peek, and there was evidence that someone else had already been there, so I knew it was okay to take one. I took another, and before I realized it, I’d had a full meringue breakfast in the silent morning.

There is a really interesting publication from 1969 titled El Dulce en Mexico (The Sweets of Mexico). One of the things it talks about is old cookbooks with alfajor or alajú recipes (alajú means “the stuffing” in Arabic). The author describes a candy that he called a “type of fruit cake,” (even though it doesn’t seem to have to do anything with one) from 1786, which I, in turn, have translated. It is basically a sweet paste made from honey and different nuts, which is thinly “sandwiched” between two wafers. They are absolutely addictive! Feel free to play around with different nuts and spice combinations.

If you’ve visited Mexico, you’ve probably tried these goat’s milk caramel candies mixed with pecans and wrapped in bright red cellophane paper. The name gloria means “glorious,” and that’s exactly what these confections are. There are many versions of this candy made primarily in Linares, a city located in the south of Nuevo Leon. This recipe requires patience and a candy thermometer, but it isn’t difficult and the candies make very nice gifts.

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.

One of my favorite candy stores in Puebla is called El Lirio. The owner of the store, Sara Martinez Muñoz, is a lovely woman with white hair and a fighting spirit, who loves to play jokes on her customers. She says that when she sees couples entering the store unsure of what to get, she quietly asks the woman to give her partner a little kiss (which is the name of the candy). Most hesitate, but then oblige—how could they refuse a nice old lady? As they approach the counter, she slowly walks with her cane toward the edge of it, and as the man bends over, she hands him a besito. Invariably they laugh and blush, but it is all soon forgotten once they take a bite of this delicacy. She says the name comes from the fact that they are small and delicious and leave you wanting more, the way a real kiss does.

I have not been able to have these for a very long time because I became allergic to peanuts about fifteen years ago, but I always looked for them on my way to the movies when I was little. It was one of my favorite treats—a long tube of soft plastic, filled with crunchy, sweet red balls that never lasted through the movie. I never realized or even questioned how they were made, but I definitely remember being fascinated by the idea that each peanut was encapsulated in a sugary, crunchy coating. I have not put any food coloring in these because I prefer the caramel color, and I don’t think the traditional red adds anything to the recipe. I am certain you will end up making these again and again.

Chihuahua, a state in the north of Mexico, is filled with nogales, the pecan tree that adorns many of the valleys and towns in the area, and there are hundreds of dishes and desserts where the pecan is the featured star. One of my favorite pecan recipes is this one prepared by Marisela Chavez de Romo, a very kind and sweet woman who opened her home to me and showed me the proper way to select and clean pecans during an afternoon of pecan-based recipes. These wonderful treats are special because of their unexpected molassy flavor.

Brittles in Mexico are made with honey, piloncillo, all sorts of nuts, and sesame seeds. There are different kinds depending on the area, but overall they tend to be a bit too hard so I like to add a little butter and baking soda, which gives them a wonderful crunch without breaking your jaw. The brittle can also be ground in a food processor and used to top ice cream.

Legend has it that this “happiness” candy got its name in the middle of the sixteenth century, when Fray Martín de Valencia prepared a mixture of puffed amaranth seeds and honey; when the indigenous people tried it, they were so happy they began to sing, dance, and play music like they did in many pre-Hispanic rituals and continue to do in the yearly alegría festival that takes place in Tulyehualco. Alegría remains one of the oldest candies in Mexico, but it is now made with sugar or honey and piloncillo. In the tropical climates of Veracruz, I tried some incredibly crispy ones, which really surprised me because of the humidity of the region; a man who has been making these treats for more than forty years told me that his trick was to add some glucose. This wonderful nutritious and historical candy is shaped into rounds or blocks and is often decorated with nuts, pumpkin seeds, and raisins, as I have done here.

Corn tamales have prevailed for at least five centuries as ubiquitous protagonists in ceremonies and rituals such as Día de los Muertos. This preparation is from Durango, and I want to thank Ricardo Gurrola for providing me with the recipe. They go deliciously well with Strawberry Atole (page 29).

This recipe takes very little time to make but amazes everyone. The natural oil from the peanuts, or any other nut you are using, comes out when you grind it, and the sugar barely holds this crumbly, nutty sweetness together.

Almonds were used in most of the convents, and these prunes filled with an almond candy similar to marzipan capture the love the nuns had for this ingredient. You can always buy almond flour, but I find that the flavor of the nut really comes through when you make it at home, and the honey adds a delightful sweetness. You can fill dried figs, dried apricots, or dates instead.

These cookies are unusual because you must make caramelized almonds, grind them, and then add them to the dough. But it’s worth it because it gives them a lovely and unexpected crunch.

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.

Theobroma cacao, the botanical name meaning “food from the gods,” captures the magnificent essence of the cacao bean. It’s the perfect way to start the journey through the sweets of Mexico because it is also considered one of the most important contributions from the land to the world. Cacao was consumed by the Olmecas as early as 1500 B.C.E. Mayan priests used it for religious rituals, mixing it with chiles, vanilla, and honey. The Mexica indians consumed it hot or cold and mixed it with ground corn, vanilla (the orchid and the bean), magnolia flowers, achiote, allspice, or honey, and used the bean as currency. It was (and continues to be) energetically beaten with a molinillo, poured from up high so it is foamy, and often taken in ceramic cups or jícaras (gourd bowls). In Mesoamerica, the fruit of the cacao symbolized the human heart, and the ground toasted bean symbolized the blood. Moctezuma Xocoyotzin offered the first chocolate beverage to Hernán Cortés. Cortés sent cacao to Europe as a tribute to Spain, explaining the different uses and the importance it had in Tenochtitlan; it quickly became the preferred beverage of the king. In Mexico, chocolate remains an ingredient used primarily in beverages. Its importance has lasted many centuries, and there are many different kinds of chocolate mixtures. Many places preserve the tradition of slowly toasting the beans on a comal, peeling them (an atole is sometimes made from the shells), and grinding them by hand over a warm molinillo; others go to a community mill. Either way, most mix it with sugar and cinnamon (the cinnamon is also toasted and ground, in most cases). Then tablets or balls are formed from this granular mixture and left to dry in the shade. The ones with almonds, vanilla, and/or spices are usually reserved for special occasions. I wanted to make my own in a modern kitchen using a food processor because much of the hot chocolate that is exported doesn’t have almonds and uses artificial flavoring (luckily, though, a couple of really good brands are becoming more available); I was very happy with the results. You can make the hot chocolate with water or milk and use a whisk if you don’t have a molinillo, but make sure it is really frothy and hot when you drink it.

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.

Our girls are huge lovers of green beans, so they are a must-have on the menu. (We try to accommodate everyone in some way or another.) Of course, the smokiness of the pig doesn’t hurt, either