Tinga Oaxaqueña: Mexican Comfort-Food with a Kick

I'm courting controversy here, because technically the dish should be called tinga poblana, "tinga from Puebla".

(Tinga, btw, means "disorder".)

A lot of traditional wisdom that holds Puebla as the culinary capital of Mexico.

It is the home not only of the tinga, but also of the poblano chile (used in rajas or stuffed to make chiles rellenos and the beloved chiles en nogada) and Mexico's national dish, mole poblano (the famous mole made with chocolate).

Plus lots of other less famous but no less delicious dishes and ingredients.

When you consider that poblano chiles in their dried form end up as chiles anchos (or mulatos, if they ripen to brown instead of red), Puebla's contribution to Mexican cuisine can hardly be overrated.

But for every book, chef or food writer who champions Puebla there is at least one (maybe more) giving the top spot to Oaxaca.

Oaxaca, too, is home to a distinct regional cuisine, including many ingredients that aren't readily available even in other parts of Mexico.

And they have not one but seven moles in a range of colours including black, green, yellow, and two shades of red.

So taking a traditional Pueblan dish and rebranding it as Oaxacan is about as cheeky as making "English" whisky.

The reason I'm tweaking the name of this dish is because I substituted rare pasillas de Oaxaca (purchased from Luchito, the only place to get them in the UK) for the usual chipotles.

Ordinarily, chipotles can trump any other chile in the flavour department, but nothing beats these pasillas de Oaxaca.

Prepping dried chiles does take a bit of work, but of you want to try this at home, you can easily use a tablespoon or two of Gran Luchito salsita de chiles ahumados instead.

A tinga can be made with pork, chicken, vegetables, or a combination. I went with chicken.

As usual with traditional recipes, I had several versions to choose from as a basis. I stayed pretty close to Thomasina Miers's version because she calls for dried chiles, but I added some chorizo to complement the smoky pasillas.

Because I made this in the morning but served it for dinner, I'm going to tell the prep method like a story, but first the

Ingredientes (to serve two)

• 2 chicken breasts
• 2 medium tomatoes
• 8 cloves of garlic
• 2 white onions
• 3 pasillas de Oaxaca (or 2-3 tbsp of Gran Luchito) 
• 1/2 small cone of piloncillo (or 1 tbsp of dark brown sugar)
•  Mexican oregano
• Avocado leaves (or bay leaves, but they don't have the same aniseedy flavour) 

So: in the morning I got up, peeled and quartered one onion, and tossed it in a soup pot. Then I bashed six cloves of garlic (one at a time) with the pestle of my molcajete, peeled the skins off, and tossed them in the pot with the onion.

Then I added my two chicken breasts and a great big avocado leaf.

If I had had any, I would have roughly chopped some carrot and celery, but no dice.

Anyway, I covered it all with water, brought it to a boil, and then turned the heat way down and let it simmer for 20 minutes.

These guys are ready to rock and roll.

In the meantime I cut the stems off three pasillas de Oaxaca , pressed them between my fingers to get the seeds out (but not the veins), and soaked them in just-boiled water for ten minutes.

You have to weigh them down with a plate to make sure they all stay covered with water.

If you use Gran Luchito instead of the dried chiles, you get to skip this step.

While the chiles were soaking and the chicken was poaching I heated up a dry frying pan and asar-roasted the tomatoes and the two remaining cloves of garlic. The garlic should be roasted in its skin to prevent burning, and it only needs a few minutes on each side. The tomatoes take longer.

Tomatoes roasted like this are one of the most characteristic flavours of Mexican cooking. They make the finished dish a world away from an Italian tomato sauce.

By now the chiles were ready. Using tongs, I removed them from the water and placed them in a blender jar with the tomatoes, garlic (minus the skins), a teaspoon of Mexican oregano, and two avocado leaves. A few minutes on high and I had a smooth, delicious tomato and chile sauce for my tinga.

By now it read time to take the chicken off the heat and let it cool in the broth. This keeps the chicken moist.

While it was cooling I sliced the remaining onion thin and chef-like because I totally have mad skills like that. In my mind.

I slow-fried the onions in oil for several minutes, until they got nice and translucent. Then I added some diced choizo.

It was Spanish chorizo, as all chorizo in the UK comes from Spain, but I mexed it up a bit by adding some ground chile powder.

When the chorizo was cooked through, I added the tomato and chile sauce, plus the piloncillo, and let it simmer for a few minutes while I shredded the chicken.

I added the shredded chicken to the pan and ladled in the broth I poached it in (which was now a light chicken stock) until their was enough liquid to cover the chicken: not quite 100 mL.

I let this simmer on low for about 15 minutes. Then I turned off the heat, let it cool, covered it, and put it in the fridge, where the flavours matured all the livelong day.

That way when it was time to make dinner, all I had to do was heat the tinga gently on the hob and make some Mexican white rice (arroz blanco).

I used the recipe from A Mexican Cook in Ireland because it includes lots of butter!

Ladle the tinga over the rice, top with some chopped avocado and spring onion y provecho!

Plated up and ready to rock your world.

This dish packs untold depths of flavour, balancing sweetness, acidity (from the tomatoes) and two types of smokiness, plus chile heat.

It's also dead easy to make. The hardest part is actually prepping the chiles, which you can skip if you just use Gran Luchito chile paste.

Also: I say this serves two, but we each got to go back for (eagerly anticipated) seconds.

Haggis and Luchito tacos: a Scottish Oaxacan fusion

The smokiness of Gran Luchito is such a perfect match for the rich, spicy haggis you'd think they were made for each other.

Having said that, I wouldn't be surprised if some of my non-Scottish readers are a bit dubious about this recipe.

I was inspired to make haggis tacos by of Saint Andrew's Day (30 November). Saint Andrew is the patron saint of Scotland, and he's also my patron saint, proof that I was meant to live here.
So last Friday I decided to cook a Mexican/Scottish fusion dish, sort of like my blog logo in food form.

Of course, I.'m not the first person to put haggis in a taco. Illegal Jack's on Lothian Road does it; probably some other places as well.

But I may well be the first to add smoked chile to the famous "chieftain o' the puddin' race". However, before we get to the recipe, let's talk about haggis.

Haggis is one of those things that many people have heard of, but what they've heard isn't always right. So what are the common questions about haggis?

Is haggis cooked in a sheep's stomach?

No. It used to be. Now it is cooked in a large collagen casing.
Sausages, which everyone loves, used to be stuffed into pig intestines, but are now also encased in collagen. In the olden days people didn't have many artificial materials, and they had to use every part of the animal. Now they don't.

Is haggis made from, like, guts and lungs and shit?

By "guts and lungs and shit" I mean "offal", which rhymes with "awful".

Offal is the collective name for the edible internal organs of an animal, such as hearts, liver, etc.

Although everyone used to eat this stuff (and a lot of posh restaurants still serve it), many modern diners find the idea of it "awful" indeed.

Yes, haggis is made with offal. So are sausages (especially cheap ones). And let's not even talk about what goes into hot dogs.

But the truth about haggis is it doesn't contain all that much meat of any description. For all that everyone knows about the sheep's stomach thing, people forget the other famous ingredient in haggis: oatmeal.

Haggis was poverty-food, so the scant bits of offal were bulked out with dried oats. Then the whole thing was mixed with spices to make it taste better. This is still done today.

Does haggis actually taste good?

Yes, haggis is delicious. Unusually for a traditional British dish, it is full of flavour, and even quite spicy (these days it is seasoned with a lot of black pepper).

It also goes beautifully with a dram of single malt Scotch whisky. And as my favourite Scotch is the smoky Ardbeg (an Islay malt), it occurred to me that haggis and smoked chile would make an excellent taco filling.

Now, the recipe...

Ingredientes

500 g haggis, cooked according to the instructions
1-2 tbsp Gran Luchito Oaxacan smoked chile paste
6-8 warm corn tortillas
Radishes, finely chopped or shredded
Salsa of your choice
Oil or fat for frying

Preparación

 Heat about 2 tbsp of oil in a saucepan. Then add the Gran Luchito.

You have to estimate your taste on this. Luchito is pretty spicy. You don't want to exceed your limit, but you do want the smoky flavour to come through. I used 2 tablespoons, but I'm a chile fiend.

When the Luchito has started to loosen a bit, add about a third of the cooked haggis and gently mix it in as if you were folding it into a larger mixture.

When it's well incorporated, fold in the next third of the haggis and repeat until it's all fully mixed.

The haggis will now have a reddish-brown colour running through it.

To serve, place about 2 dessert spoons of the haggis into a warm tortilla, top with finely chopped or shredded radishes and a salsa of your choice.

The peppery radishes are a good complement to the haggis and also provide a bit of bite (haggis is very soft).

For the salsa, I think a salsa picante made from chiles de árbol works well and adds a nice splash of colour, but it's very hot!

A milder roast tomato salsa could also work.

Alternatively you could double up on the smokiness by using a smoked chile salsa.

Or, if you want to turn the heat down, try some Mexican crema or commercial sour cream.

When I first conceived this dish, I planned to use chipotles en adobo, but I'm glad I opted for the Luchito instead.

Adobo sauce is so bit on the sweet side, which I think may have clashed with the haggis. Luchito has a more subtle sweetness which blended well, and the depth of flavour was more than able to stand up to the haggis's rich seasoning.

If I haven't convinced you on Scotland's National Dish, you're unlikely to try this, but I definitely see this becoming a MexiGeek household tradition.

Fair fa' yer honest, sonsie face!

A Real Oaxacan Smoked Chile Paste: Gran Luchito (product review)

This is possibly the most exciting Mexican product to arrive in the UK since I’ve lived here: a real Oaxacan smoked chile paste called Gran Luchito.

It’s exciting not only because it’s delicious - which it is - but because it used to be available pretty much in only one part of Mexico.

Gran Luchito is made in Oaxaca, a state in the south of Mexico (bordering Guatemala). Oaxaca is one of the culinary capitals of Mexico and is world-famous for its distinctive regional cuisine, including chiles so rare they aren’t even widely available in the rest of Mexico, let alone all the way across the Atlantic.

Chief among these is the pasilla de Oaxaca, a smoked chile exclusive to the region. I’ve read about this chile many times, in many books. They all say the only place to get it is a market stall in Oaxaca - if you’re lucky, because it’s becoming increasingly rare.

The elusive pasillas de Oaxaca.

You can’t just nip down to Tijuana and pick up some of these chiles. They ain’t there. But they are the star ingredient in Gran Luchito.

So how does it taste?

Gran Luchito is a smoked chile paste, somewhat like a chipotle paste, but much deeper and more complex.

It has a gorgeous aroma, and because it’s sweetened with agave nectar (agave is the plant from which mezcal and tequila are made) rather than sugar, the sweetness is more natural and subtler than that of commercial chipotle pastes, which tend to use refined sugar.

Heat-wise it’s at least as hot as a chipotle paste, which most people seem to rate as 7/10. I can’t quite decide whether I think it’s slightly hotter, because for me chile heat takes a backseat to chile flavour, which Luchito has in spades.

I’m a guy who LOVES chipotles, but Luchito could honestly make you switch.

How do you use it?

The producers advertise its versatility, because it can be used on its own or as an ingredient in other dishes.

On its own I like to spread it on toast or a warm tortilla. It can really liven up a sandwich as well. I also mixed some in with my homemade Sikil p’ak (Mayan pumpkinseed and tomato sauce) for a Yucatecan/Oaxacan fusion.

Mixing some Luchito into a sauce or mole will give it a beautiful, smoky dimension, and it would be an incredible marinade for roasting or grilling meat.

You can also transform it into a delicious salsa by simply blending a tablespoon or two with a of couple roasted tomatoes and one or two cloves of garlic.

Don’t overdo the garlic because there’s already some garlic in Luchito, and make sure you blend to a rough, textured consistency.

This salsa will blow your mind, and it's great for dipping or to spoon on top of tacos or other dishes.

You can also substitute tomatillos for the tomatoes (if you have some). The contrast between the smokiness of the Luchito and the tartness of the tomatillos is incredible.

The other great thing about Luchito is that’s it’s easy to use. Many, many Mexican recipes call for you to make your own chile paste, usually by toasting dried or smoked chiles in a dry pan, soaking them in boiled water, and then grinding or blending them down. Luchito have basically done that for you.

Así se hace en México. They grind the chiles with a metate so you don't have to!

As making a chile paste is one of the more labour-intensive steps in making a sauce or mole, having a jar of Gran Luchito means you can have a authentic Mexican meal midweek. And how can you not be amazed by the possibility of cooking with authentic Oaxacan flavours after work on a Wednesday?

Now, I like to be balanced in my reviews, so I tried to think of any negatives, but I really can't. This is just a delicious and exciting product and I'm amazed that we can actually get this here in the UK.

So where do you get it?

Probably the easiest way is online from Gran Luchito’s website. (They also sell dried pasillas de Oaxaca. Awesome!)

Or you can check your local Mexican deli, grocer, or shop (if you’re lucky enough to have one near you).

I’ll be ordering another jar of this shortly, as well as some of the dried chiles (which I need to make mole negro). And a lot of my chipotle-based recipes are already becoming Luchito recipes.

MexiGeek can’t go to Oaxaca, but Oaxaca has come to MexiGeek!