Pozole

Every Mexican family has its Pozole tradition, or even ritual. Recipes are always different, some are prepared with a combination of chicken and pork, some just chicken or turkey, some are religiously 100% pork; from head to tail, and seriously, sometimes you can see a pig's head floating in a cooking pot at the market, a horrifying scene, but that's something you learn to respect, because every pozole recipe has its own family DNA, families brag about it, and that's why you will never get an accurate recipe, you will never eat the same pozole, and you should create your own pozole, but always use whole hominy kernels, that's the only rule.

Spanish Conquistadors believed pozole was a stew made with human remains, that according to ethnographer and evangelist Bernardino de Sahagún, who considered Mexicans (not Aztecs, but that's another story) not to be humans, or to be a different race without souls, sadly some people still think Mexicans are some sort of inferior race 500 years after colonization, but whatever, it was more than one Spaniard, a whole group championed a smear campaign against Mexicans, taking this debate all the way to Valladolid, between ultra-racist Juan Ginés de Sepúlveda and condescending liberal Bartolomé de Las Casas. They did not debate whether pozole was made with human meat, but to start viewing indigenous population as human beings, artistically and mechanically capable, and adroit of learning when properly taught; however, Mexicans DID know, just differently, and that's why condescending, but I still respect De Las Casas' efforts.

Before Spanish conquistadors put a foot on America, MesoAmerica was as problematic as it is today, Tenochtitlan (Today's Mexico City) was the richest and most powerful city-state, controlling different nations around, from Michoacan to Nicaragua, starting an agricultural revolution, genetically modifying corn and other crops. War was inevitable, imagine a powerful country trying to "educate" and bring, lets say, democracy to a foreign region in exchange for natural resources. That was basically Mexicans before the conquest, against Azcapotzalco, Tlaxcala, etc. Tenochtitlan always tried to intimidate other nations with psychological warfare such as: we eat humans, or even surrounding their island-city with walls made out of skulls, mostly stone, and yes, when war occurred, soldiers dismembered humans. This graphic violence horrified the already barbaric Spaniards, and I'm probably just trying to justify why Mr. Sahagún was wrong about pozole, because also, he was wrong about everything else he wrote and drew on Florentino Codex, an ethnographic research work trying to describe Mexico and its traditions to Europeans. The only fact we know about pozole is that it's been around for centuries, always a ritual, always controversial, always different from each other.

My tradition begins in the 1980s, I don't know exactly when, but I'm pretty sure I was 5 when I started helping my grandmother Rogelia and other cooks make a pozole, because there's always a neighbor, aunt or cousin trying to learn your family recipe, so there's usually more than one person involved, plus you need to clean a mountain of hominy and that's where my brother and I helped, that was our at least once a month Saturday-Sunday job, while Mexican soccer league was on channel 2 or 13, and my dad was always preparing other appetizers like guacamole, chips and salsa or cheeses, because part of the pozole ritual is eating more food while preparing it, and seeing your favorite soccer team being irritatingly forgettable. My dad's favorite team is ironically the team I like now, Pumas (National University) but my brother and I rooted for rich, glamorous but always mediocre America (owned by biggest TV network in Latin America) the only time we enjoy soccer together is during a World Cup, and we always get frustrated because our team usually sucks, not all the time.

My grandma's pozole recipe changed when I started talking to adults. She took me to the market and one day I saw this butcher shop with dismembered pigs, including a wall of heads, since my father is an anthropologist and ethnohistorian, you can imagine the sorts of stories he told me when I was a kid, I mean, my first children's books was Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse, but his stories about the conquest, the ambiguity of Florentino Codex, and all of that, made me beg my grandma to make a pozole, pork free, so she started cooking a chicken pozole just for me, I was a pain in the ass, I requested no chicken organs in the soup at all, or skin, just white meat. Somehow my own tradition survived, now new cousins eat it this way too. A huge element of eating pozole is Chile de árbol sauce, made with dried chile de arbol, sesame seeds, pumpkin seed, garlic, oregano and cider vinegar, most of the time you can get this hot sauce in the market, or if you need a decent equivalent, I can recommend Salsa “Valentina” or Crystal Sauce… if it was spicy enough.

Another thing I remember is my grandma unplugging the TV most of the times because she didn't like soccer, and she was more like me, we need music when we cook, her favorite was Pérez Prado, Carlos Gardel, Celia Cruz, Willie Colón and Rocio Durcal. But she was OK with other music, but my grandmother dancing in the kitchen while “Cherry Pink and Apple Blossom White” was playing on vinyl is a classic scene in my family. Pozole is more than one recipe, I have none, it's a ritual, experienced in different ways, every home has its own secrets and rites, but I do recommend fresh chopped oregano, avocado, fresh radishes thinly sliced and lime juice as garnish. I think you should start your own tradition, celebrating the importance of corn in America, collective knowledge and diversity.