10/6/2023 0 Comments Hands off my chocolate red velvetThankfully, we were safe and our trip ended before the worst of the violence began. I even got a hint of a smile from the chef as we formally shook hands goodbye. On our tour, I couldn’t resist showing off what I had learned as we looked at vainilla, chocolate, chipotles, and aguas frescas.īy the end of the afternoon, I think I redeemed myself. We had a memorable feast, the fruits of our labor, and then set out for a stroll and to tour the local mercado. I raised my hand when volunteers were called up to assist the chef-instructor. As the recipes progressed in complexity from simple salsas, to a classic flan, and ultimately to the intensely aromatic and multifaceted mole rojo, my confidence grew. I was an eager participant as we appreciated the scent of canela, seeded chilies, and juiced limons. I was enthusiastic as we learned about local ingredients and the fabled and almost mythical history of mole. The good student that I am, though, I made up for lost time with my diligence and focus for the remainder of the day. I felt self-conscious in my lacy, white cotton shirt, which felt so tropical and Latin to me, and quickly put on my chili-themed apron. I noticed that none of the others was wearing white. They had the confident look of students who had not only done their homework, but had read through the syllabus and even begun to write preliminary notes in the margins. The rest of my classmates, all other Americans, looked me up and down as I tried to make a space for myself in front of the counter. I also had the preconceived notion that the class might be run on “Mexican time.” Clearly not so. I was getting more anxious, realizing that I was going to be late for my class because I couldn’t find the landmarks I had memorized from the night before, and the sign for the restaurant, previously visible, was now covered by one of the tarps. I didn’t know enough to be scared at the time, though. The zocalo was unrecognizable to me, with barricades set up, large placards being hoisted in the air, and tarps draped across streets, forming makeshift shelters for the ever increasing number of protestors. Over the next several months the teachers’ strike, which had been an annual event for a quarter decade, escalated exponentially, as other organizations joined in solidarity and reframed the protest into cries for resignation of the corrupt governor. At the time of our arrival, it had started simply as a local teachers’ strike. Somehow, without knowing it, we had stumbled into what would end up being a seven month period of protests and violence, resulting in at least seventeen deaths, including that of an American journalist, Brad Will. It wasn’t just the light, or the large crowd of people going about their daily routine and peddlers doing their business. Once I got there, everything looked different. I strode off confidently towards the zocalo, a little nervous but really excited for the cooking class. The next day, I arose early and left our lodging while my husband and toddlers were still sleeping. Wanting to make sure I could make it to my class on time, I had located the restaurant where the class was to be held, and traced a route there from our hotel. I may not have called my instructor when we arrived the previous day (I thought the call was a courtesy, not a requirement), but I did do my duty as a conscientious student the evening before. Not a promising start to my Oaxacan cooking class, which started the day after we arrived in the fabled Mexican city. “And if you had called me last night to confirm your arrival, as I had instructed you to, you would not have worn white.” “You’re late,” she spat as she glared at me, and threw a chili pepper-decorated apron in my direction. This was my winning entry for Valentine’s Day on the theme of “chocolate and chili.” The winner is published in the Food section of Salon. Francis announces a theme as broad as “a meal for someone you love” or as narrow as “egg salad,” and entrants are asked to write a story and a recipe fitting within the theme. Over on, food writer Francis Lam, formerly of Gourmet, hosts a weekly food writing and recipe challenge, the Salon Kitchen Challenge. Here is my recipe for a spiced-up version of Red Velvet Cake I am closing out this week’s theme of Mexican recipes with dessert.
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