Episode 5 Rick Stein's Road To Mexico

It was 1968 when I first came here to San Francisco.

I wanted to do my own road trip from the United States

to the Mexican border and beyond.

My dad had just died, I'd finished school

and I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.

It was a year after the Summer Of Love

and things like enchiladas, burritos, guacamole,

I had only heard of from the radio, but they sounded wonderful.

But it wasn't just the food -

I wanted to live a little bit dangerously.

And I did.

MARIACHI MUSIC PLAYS

I'm getting quite addicted to Mexican music.

I find it rather abandoned.

Since this trip I have had it on in the kitchen all the time.

But in Guadalajara I had some great food,

lovely street food like these bunuelos,

soaked in lashings of syrup and flavoured with mango and then, well,

tequila of course.

And carne con chilli and NOT chilli con carne -

that makes the Mexicans laugh quite a lot.

MUSIC: Guadalajara by Pepe Guizar

I've got their CD.

Thanks, boys.

Just before I came here, people would say to me,

"I wouldn't fancy going to Mexico City.

"It's a far too polluted, far too many people,

"millions of them and it is probably a little bit dangerous."

All I can say to that is, "Yes, I've heard it all before,

"so many times before."

Mexico City -

if you love your food and you're open to a bit of history

and culture - then it has to be on your list,

surely for the food alone.

I suppose it is the diversity.

The food comes from all over the place - the deserts, the sea,

the tropical bits, the mountains.

Indeed it is a melting pot.

And talking of melting pots...

This is a pulqueria.

I've always wanted to go into one of these places,

but I've never really dared to,

because it was always like a working man's place where they got

incredibly pissed on cactus juice, fermented cactus juice,

specifically the maguey cactus.

But these days students go in there

as well as working men, so it's a bit lighter,

and girls as well.

It was all men before, but it's so noisy in there,

I'm still a little bit nervous.

Here we go.

Well, it has all the feeling of a student's union mixed with a few old

fogeys in varying states of inebriation.

I love the ceilings.

And there's only one thing to order and that is a sweet fermented agave

sap, not cactus,

mixed with fruit juice.

It has been around for at least 1,000 years.

It is probably the original alcopop and it is called pulque.

-Er... Tarro of mango.

-Mango.

-Mango.

-Mango maracuya.

-Is that it?

-This is maracuya.

-Maracuya.

The customer's glass is dipped in chilli and salt,

a dash of lime and then generously filled.

Now call me old-fashioned, call me what you like,

but I can see lots of silly things starting to

happen after one or two of these.

THEY CHEER HIM ON

THEY CHEER

No way!

No, of course I won't be led on to drink this in one.

THEY CHANT

THEY CHEER LOUDLY

I've been told pulquerias are dying out.

Most of them are here in Mexico City.

They remind me a bit of cider bars back at home,

when in the '60s and '70s there were many and now hardly any at all.

They've suggested I try a strawberry one, but I'm not dropping this one.

It's actually really nice.

THEY START TO CHANT

No.

Actually in Aztec times, pulque was drunk very conservatively, but when

the Spanish came with all their Catholic religious festivals,

then pulque became the party drink of Mexico.

-It's very good.

-Good.

I can't really describe its taste.

It's just sweet and fruity and not particularly strong.

I suppose I thought it was going to be very sort of muddy

and sort of vague in flavour.

Actually it's really nice.

I could get addicted to it.

No, it's getting very silly in here, time to go.

Two pulques - sufficient, three pulques - utterly stupid.

Four pulques - good night, Vienna.

BARREL ORGAN PLAYS TINNY MELODY

Once upon a time here,

the air was full of the melodic music from barrel organs,

loads of barrel organs.

A gift shortly after the Mexican Revolution from Germany.

Now because they are so old, nobody can tune them.

They seem to have developed minds of their own and play notes at random.

It's one of the quirks I rather like about the city.

After the organ grinder, what else? The chilli grinder.

Here there are all sorts of dried chillies blended to order,

a bit like coffee connoisseurs.

A few ounces of jalapeno, a handful of poblano,

the same with serrano and cayenne, etc.

Your own personalised chilli that hasn't been lying around in a jar

for a year and a half.

I'm just really fascinated to watch this because, really,

chillies are obviously what Mexico is all about.

Not just fresh chillies, but dried chillies as well.

These are called guajillo.

Actually, you can get the same chilli in Spain,

but it's just slightly different looking.

The thing that I love about dried chillies,

they've got this lovely fruity taste.

And here you can see they're being ground quite roughly and...

Just see how oily that is.

And to the Mexicans it's not just about the heat of the chilli,

it's also about the flavour.

And these, actually, when they're fresh,

they're called mirasol, which means, "Look at the sun."

I love that expression,

because...like, chillies are so packed with sun.

Now, I have a friend who subscribes to the theory that the cheaper and

simpler the dish, the tastier it is.

Well, that's certainly par for the course here at Cocina Economica,

"the good value kitchen", that means.

I just wondered, there is a queue here.

My name is Rick. I'm making some television.

Very nice to meet you.

Which one are you queueing for?

Normally I come

for the second place which is Cocina Economica Lupita.

Actually, all these people, this line, it's only for this place.

-Really?

-There is no other line for other places, only this place.

So that means it is a good place.

-And nice people.

-Really nice people.

It's very popular and ever since

it's been opened, they've cooked this - enchiladas verde.

It's wonderful.

It's basically corn pancakes wrapped around pieces of freshly poached

chicken. But the secret ingredient, the embodiment of zingy freshness -

well, for me it is - is the green sauce.

It's made simply with par boiled green tomatillos

and green serrano chillies.

Tomatillos are a key ingredient here and related to the Cape gooseberry.

Then it's all blended, simmered and served.

I'm just amazed how simple this is, but none the worse for it, I'm sure.

So now you have...

-..cheese? Queso?

-Cheese.

-Yeah.

And then it's finally served with cheese,

a tart curd cheese like a Caerphilly or Lancashire

and then topped with sour cream.

It is fabulous.

Finito.

Now to try it.

God, it's so busy in there and I can't get a seat.

Let's find a little corner somewhere to...

I mean this really is...

..Cocina Economica is really, really popular.

Well, now to taste it.

Oh!

Mmm. That is so fresh tasting.

I think it's the combination of the green tomatoes,

the chilli in the salsa verde,

the sweetness of the onion, but, above all,

the deliciousness of that poached chicken.

Honestly, it's sensational.

I mean, Mexicans come here for lunch every day in this market.

It's not expensive.

But this is so good.

If I was living here I'd come here...

Muchas gracias. ..I'd come here every day.

HE LAUGHS

Good on ya.

There is a similar dish to the enchiladas verde,

using the same tart green sauce

that I loved having for breakfast.

It's called chilaquiles and it's one of those dishes

I'd cook any time back in Padstow, it's that good.

Chilaquiles.

It comes from the Nahuatl word,

which is the Aztec language word, for chillies and greens.

Actually, I'm going to make a green sauce to go with them but sometimes

they make a red sauce.

So, into my blender I first of all put some onions

chopped up a little bit.

And now some garlic and a couple of whole Serrano chillies just breaking

the ends off there.

And then a whole tin of tomatillos,

I've drained them first.

Sadly we can't get fresh tomatillos.

And then a little bit of chicken stock

just to wet things up and make the sauce very fluid.

And finally some salt.

Wouldn't it have been great if when the conquistadors

had brought tomatoes over to Spain, they also brought tomatillos.

We don't really know them,

but they have got this wonderful green acidity

which is so special in Mexican food.

Quite a lot of the time in Mexico,

they do entirely the reverse of what we do, which is basically to fry

everything and then blend it.

They blend everything and then fry it.

I'm not sure if it makes any difference.

It's just what you're used to, I suppose.

Right, there we go.

Now, I'm just going to leave that to simmer a little bit, for

about five minutes, just to reduce down a bit.

And now I'm going to fry some tortilla chips.

Now, the thing about chilaquiles - I think,

it's about using up the tortillas from the day before.

Bearing in mind that, you know, Mexico is not a rich country

and the great thing about countries where people

don't have a lot of money, they don't waste anything.

And they don't waste yesterday's tortillas,

they fry them up in corn oil and make breakfast out of them.

When these little segments of tortillas are fried,

they're called totopos.

Spooning them out onto my kitchen paper,

just to drain off a little bit.

Time to fry a couple of eggs.

I have to have ground black pepper on my eggs,

it just looks nice for me.

There we go.

And a little bit of salt.

Perfect. Now over to my serving bowl.

First of all, my totopos which are nice and crisp,

in the bottom of that. Pour some of my salsa verde over the top.

Take out the fried eggs carefully. There is one.

And then first of all some crumbly cheese, you could use feta cheese.

Then a dollop or two of sour cream.

Some sliced raw onions and finally some roughly chopped coriander.

Look at that. That is a very popular breakfast all over Mexico.

While celebrating 100 years of independence from Spain,

the government of the day laid the foundations for something so big,

so classical, so beautifully proportioned...

The Mexicans wanted to overshadow

any building or palace in America or Europe,

but they ran out of cash.

And then in 1910 came the revolution,

setting landowners, industrialists, the church, peasants and farmers -

the agricultural backbone of the country -

at each other's throats.

And at the end of ten years of backwards and forwards,

this became a monument to that conflict.

I find this monument to the revolution really impressive.

In fact, I think it is the most iconic building

in the whole of Mexico City.

And every time I come here I just like to look at it,

because I just think it is a wonderful work of art.

What really affects me are these peasants, the statues.

They look in some ways so grim, but when you look at them more closely,

you realise it is a sort of ideal of hard work,

worthiness and honesty.

And I think it is really quite sad

that this monument took 28 years to build.

And I think, actually, the revolution wasn't really successful,

but as a monument to the ideal of honest working people,

there is nothing to beat it.

Do you know, even at my age I still think it is pretty cool to pop in

for a coffee and a piece of cake at exactly the same cafe

that Fidel Castro and fellow revolutionary Che Guevara

used to frequent quite a lot.

It's even better to sit at exactly the same table

where they did, all those years ago.

They spent hours here planning

how to get rid of the Batista regime in Cuba.

I wonder, has there ever been anyone whose photograph

has given out such a spirit of change and revolution,

martyrdom and youth all at the same time?

And there's a bit of sexiness in there, too...

All students wanted to be like him and this was said to be the most

famous photograph in the world and I believe it.

When I went to university in the early '70s,

there wasn't a student's room that didn't have a picture of Che Guevara

or a poster of Che Guevara on the wall.

Me included.

It's said that when they first came to this cafe, they sat down

at six o'clock in the evening and they were still talking

at 11 o'clock the next morning.

And, actually, I was hoping to meet a waitress called Marta who was

there in those days,

and actually served Che and Fidel cups of coffee.

And I wanted to ask her what they were like, but sadly she's sick.

Was it ever thus when you're off filming?

I'm purposefully staying away from the tourist routes.

I find it's often more rewarding.

Simply because meeting a local like Paco de Santiago makes a city come

alive. Paco is a man of few words, but he certainly knows his bars.

Ah, this looks pretty atmospheric!

Yes, it's one of the oldest cantinas...

-Oldest?

-It was founded in 1918.

-A beer?

-Enrique.

-Hola, como estas?

-Paco, como estas?

-Muy bien. Aqui para saludarte.

-Enrique?

That's right, that's my name. Nice to meet you.

-Can we have a...

-What do you want to drink? Cerveza de barril?

Cerveza de barril. Draft beer we are going to try.

Absolutely. Would you call it draft beer, then?

Cerveza de barril. Beer from the barrel.

Tell me more about a cantina then. What...

I mean, it's obviously the most famous word for a place

where you drink in Mexico.

It's a place where you can have drinks.

They feed you for the drinks.

-And basically...

-Do you pay?

-You don't pay for the food.

-OK.

-You just pay for the drinks and they are very happy to feed you.

-I love these glasses.

-It's a chabela.

-Chabela?

Chabela or bola, as you want. "A bowl."

But this a very...

-And also it's cold and thick.

-It's cold.

We freeze the glasses in the freezer.

-Stays cold for a long time.

-Salud.

-Salud.

It's a great glass.

And you drink from the corner...obviously.

Mm. That's delish.

-Today we have pork in carnitas.

-Which is the pork shank.

-That's very generous.

-It's the way that Enrique serves to the...

So how can you make it...? How can he make any money?

If you just buy one beer and you get that?

Beer, my friend, the drink is where the money is.

-We haven't paid for the beer yet.

-That's why. That's why.

The other plate, this is very traditional

from the cantinas in Mexico City.

-Escargots or caracoles...

-Caracoles?

-..in mole.

-Can I try one?

-Yeah, sure. Let's do it.

Let's try to find one of these little guys.

The mole is a blend of chocolate,

peanuts, almond.

We use three different kinds of Mexican chilli.

-In this mole?

-In this mole.

The secret is the chocolate, black chocolate.

-Oh, really good. Good with mole.

-I'm glad you like it.

I think this is one of the best snail dishes I've ever tasted.

Chocolate, chocolate, peanuts...

-Nuts.

-..nuts.

It's very smooth.

Very satisfying.

I love it.

This is Mexico City's Mercado Central de Abasto.

Prosaically that means, "a market for goods."

It's massive and it's where produce is driven in overnight

from all over Mexico.

To me, nopales, the pads, well, they're not leaves,

of the cactus plant were particularly fascinating.

We can't get them over here, but they are great in salads or fried.

I'm pretty certain that 500 years ago the conquistadors,

on seeing these bountiful ears of plump-tious maize,

would have been extremely pleased with themselves.

"My God, this is so bountiful", they might have said.

"So magnificent compared to our wheat and barley back at home."

To me, the gold, silver and topaz being shipped back

by the galleon load weren't the true riches,

it was all those new crops.

And the fact that the Spanish returned home

and planted the maize along with chillies, tomatoes,

the potatoes, the squash -

all vegetables that we might think were ours...

And let's not forget the chocolate!

A good way to see this juxtaposition is to come here to the

Palacio Nacional. To the brilliant murals created by Diego Rivera,

the most famous artist in Mexico.

I mean, to me this is fascinating.

The thing about Diego Rivera was it was art for the people.

And as a person, I can't help but find this utterly fascinating.

And the point was, the political point,

was to elevate the local Indians and you can see that here.

The idea the Spanish had was that they were savages

and this enormous mural says anything but.

And in the distance you can see the Aztec capital of Tenochtitlan,

the city that is now Mexico City.

And when Cortes saw it he described it as as big as Seville or Cordoba

and about the great straight causeways

leading to this island city.

In itself it looks wonderful and then when you look in the foreground

you see a market and the guy sitting in the chair there

is the sort of market official.

And everything is happening,

you've got fish being sold here.

Over there you've got corn and you can see the blue corn being sold.

And it's just full of activity and it's not altogether

lovely activity, there are some nasty, gruesome scenes.

But particularly in the middle distance there you've got sacrifice.

You can see the blood pouring down the steps of the temple

and this is what upset the Spanish,

this is why they called the Aztecs heathen.

But this was in the 15th century and 16th century

at which time the Spanish were gleefully burning people alive -

the Spanish Inquisition.

There was a long-standing belief by the Aztecs that one day they were

going to be visited by gods fair of countenance who would integrate with

them and help them build their nation.

However, the Spanish conquistadors were anything but gods.

They were greedy for gold and silver

and cared very little for the Aztec people, to put it mildly.

This is Xochimilco, a rich fertile area

in the southern part of the city.

It's full of man-made garden islands called chinampas.

People refer to them as the lungs of the city.

Because of the sunshine and the endless supply of water

coupled with rich volcanic soil,

they get as many as seven harvests a year from this land.

It was extremely clever engineering creating small fertile islands with

nitrogen-rich soil to grow all the essential ingredients needed to feed

the capital of the Aztec Empire.

Someone told me that Mexico before the conquistadors was virtually

vegetarian, so these chinampas were incredibly valuable,

a real lifeline.

I'm with one of Mexico's top chefs.

He's Eduardo Garcia, Lalo to his friends.

He used to pick fruit for a living in the United States and he has been

deported at least five times for his troubles.

This is his favourite place in the whole of the country.

I love coming here, I feel free.

I'm a farmer, I grew up on a farm in Guanajuato where I'm from.

But also in the US I was a farmer,

I picked fruits and vegetables for a living.

So coming here and kind of running away from that big city,

to me it's like I'm somewhere else.

I love nature, so when I come here I'm always happy.

Especially to the chinampas, I think of the dishes,

what to use with this, you know, grow this for me.

And I saw this chef was using this, please grow it and they grow it.

To me this is paradise.

You can take a bite.

And I just had some beetroot earlier. Is it spicy?

Mm!

Oh, wow.

CRUNCHING That is good.

-Crunchy.

-Crunchy.

-Full of horseradish-y flavour.

-Mm-mm, yep.

-You could maybe...

All we need with that is some lime and some olive oil,

-we have a perfect dish.

-Yeah.

Or maybe grate it over a bit of raw fish.

That would be lovely. Yeah. Because it is spicy now, huh? Yeah.

This is why I love the radishes from this particular chinampa.

Now, another reason for meeting up with a good chef

is that you always get a good lunch.

Lalo produced something very simple,

it's a salad made with vegetables from his garden -

well, this garden - flavoured with a bit of fennel

and wonderfully tasty beetroot.

I've always said I would far rather have a few things fresh from the

garden, seconds old, than an elaborate melange

that comes from the world over.

There were tortillas with cheese, Oaxaca cheese, stringy,

strong and very distinctive.

The whole thing was a celebration of seasonal food,

not over the top at all.

How did you become a chef then?

-I became a chef out of necessity.

-Really?

-Yeah.

So did I.

I was telling you that I grew up in the States as a migrant worker.

-Yeah.

-I found a job washing dishes.

-In the States?

-In Atlanta.

-In Atlanta.

And then from then on I started cooking, it has been 25 years.

I never really...

..did it to become a chef, I just did it...

-For a job.

-..for a job.

-And here we are.

-And here we definitely are.

You've got a very big reputation, you've got restaurants in London,

you've got one opening in Dubai, here we are indeed.

-Yeah.

-It's looked after you.

Just tell me this, because it is very important to me,

but I think people that watch this programme will think,

what is so special to you about Mexican cuisine?

Mexican food is very cultural, you know.

And I think one of the reasons why

it is so good or why Indian food is so good,

it all has to do with, I think, poverty.

You know, people...

You ever notice how most countries that are poor

-just have amazing food?

-I do, I do.

They take, wherever, they take a simple leaf, a simple tree

or whatever and make something amazing out of it, you know,

with just a few ingredients.

I've always felt that the more...

..that human beings do best when they are deprived.

As soon as you give them too much, they don't know what to do with it.

-Yes.

-Whether it be space, whether it be money.

-Yes, I agree.

I totally agree with you and I think that is why I love Mexican cuisine

so much. Because it is like Indian cuisine, you're right.

Not in flavour, but in the way it sort of reflects hard times.

Exactly, yeah.

Well, I've just got to taste this.

Looked so good being made and most of what is in it has been made from

this chinampa, particularly the beetroot and the lettuce

and the fennel bloom.

It is lovely. It's so good talking to Lalo, because

you just love to hear from a local about what makes them tick as a chef

and it is a combination of, with him, I think simple food,

great combinations, but also a background of somewhere like here,

where you know the produce is so good

and you get so enthusiastic about it.

I think actually I've learned a bit today,

I think if you are going to cook really well,

you have to be really in touch with where your produce comes from.

There's no ifs or buts about it.

I enjoyed my time on the chinampas - very inspirational for a chef.

And although this recipe did not come from Lalo,

I had it in the hotel that very same day and loved it.

They call it Aztec soup.

It's simple. First you fry some sliced tortillas in corn oil,

until they are crispy, about a minute or so.

And that is the base for the soup.

I really like Aztec soup, I actually like Mexican soups.

The thing to do is have lots of things to add

and that is what the Mexicans do.

So there they are, they're really nice and light brown now.

And now to start the soup and very often the Mexican dishes that

contain tomatoes, you char the tomatoes to get the skin off.

So in they go and a couple of garlics.

I do think there is a transfer of flavour of charred tomatoes

even though you are not going to use the skin.

It is just a very convenient way of doing things and I think a lot of

cooking is about making things as easy as possible.

There we go, look at the colour on that.

They are almost singing to me as they colour up.

And now I'm just going to peel them.

It's not particularly easy, but it's very satisfying.

You have to get it quite right, that is why I toss them around like that.

But the skin is coming off.

Just a bit of skin on them, but that's fine.

So now to make up the soup.

I've got some lard melting in the pan there.

Lard - very common in Mexican cuisine.

Add in my sliced onions.

Now, I'm just going to add these garlic cloves which have already

partially cooked and charred.

And now some chipotle in adobo, three heaped teaspoons of that.

That's a very lovely chilli paste, very common in Mexico.

It's cooked with tomatoes and it adds loads of heat and flavour.

Now the charred tomatoes.

It will take a bit of time for them to cook down.

Oregano, much used in Mexico and the soup really benefits from this.

Chicken stock and that's it, for say 20 minutes.

Until everything softens and starts to smell so good.

So now it's time to liquidise the soup with my...

I call it the outboard motor.

It's rather unfortunate but the crew who are filming now are expecting me

to splatter the whole kitchen now and I'm determined not to.

But it is frothing over the edge so I think they've got a point.

But now I'm going to top speed.

Thank goodness we got that over.

Now a little taste.

That's really lovely.

It's so important to have a good stock.

That really is good but it just needs some salt.

It's quite hot.

It needs quite a lot of salt.

Now shred some chicken to go in there.

I know it's called Aztec soup and it's lovely, but I do have a feeling

it's one of those dreamt-up names,

a bit like the Ploughman's lunch or Lymeswold cheese.

Slight over-romanticism, but who knows,

it might well have been Emperor Montezuma's favourite.

So first those crisp tortilla strips in the bottom.

And then my avocado just diced in there.

Then in goes the soup.

Look at that. Just looks very tasty, I think.

And then to finish off, well, I've got some sour cream.

Just put a dollop of that in there.

And some cheese, this is actually Lancashire cheese,

which is really good, because it's crumbly and very similar

to the cheese that you get in Mexico.

And then just for extra heat,

some more chopped up chipotle chillies.

And finally a good pinch of freshly chopped coriander.

Look at that. That's what I mean,

it's adding all those bits that make the soup so special.

It's time to leave Mexico City.

I know it's very polluted,

I know its population could be as many as 20 million,

but I loved it there.

Having said that, I'm now relishing the open countryside and off to

Puebla. It's an old colonial city, very well preserved.

In fact, this is where the Mexicans gave the French Expeditionary Army a

bloody nose and it is massively more relaxed than Mexico City,

80 miles up the road.

I just love the centre of Puebla.

It's so pretty, so attractive and sometimes in Mexico,

and this is what I actually really like about Mexico,

you have to pinch yourself to realise

you are in the New World, because you could be in part of Spain.

Actually, other parts of Mexico are quite shocking at times,

massive industrial complexes, terrible deprivation,

horrible dilapidated buildings, but then you find yourself

in a perfect city square like this and you think,

"There is something really quite stylish about this country."

I love all the travelling, I do, but I'm never far away from food,

from markets, restaurants, street food.

To me it is the whole point of going somewhere in the first place.

I like old churches, castles and monasteries,

don't get me wrong, I do.

But the smell of freshly-cooked tortillas is just so good.

This is probably the most common ritual in the whole of the country.

Ours at home of course would be boiling the kettle for a cup of tea.

But here it's making the tortilla.

This is so important.

Yes. That's not too bad.

Now this is the difficult bit.

Well, it's not too bad.

I just wanted to do this, because I feel it's the most important thing

about Mexican cooking, is making a good tortilla.

Of course this is made from fresh corn just slaked with lime.

It's not made from flour, so it's really moist.

I'm learning an awful lot about tortillas already.

Apparently when your tortillas can puff up like that,

it's the sign of a really good tortilla maker

and in Mexico that is when you can get married.

When you can make tortillas that puff up.

And here she has just made me this - picarita a la bandera,

the colour of a Mexican flag,

with some refried beans underneath,

salsa roja, salsa verde, and a little bit of cheese and onion.

And you eat it flat.

But I will turn it over a little bit,

just to make it easier to eat in my hand.

A little bit hot.

Is there any better street food in the world than Mexican?

CHATTER IN SPANISH

One of life's great luxuries for me is to meet up with someone

who's passionate about the local food.

So I was very pleased to see Ailyn Marchande

at this restaurant in the heart of nearby Cholula

She's a Mexican with French roots, a historian and a food guide.

Ailyn, I do think that Mexican cuisine

is amongst the best in the world.

There's so much variety to it, it's so interesting.

Why do you think that is?

We use all the natural ingredients that nature has given

the different regions of Mexico,

but we're not at odds with the things that were brought in by

conquistadores such as the Spanish,

later on the French occupation that we had, particularly in Puebla.

In Yucatan, of course, they had a lot of influence

from Holland and the Dutch.

So we're not at odds with incorporating

all of those ingredients and those things into our cuisine.

Why do you think that is, because some countries are really very

conservative? I'm thinking the French.

You know, you can't change a thing

in their cuisine without a big outburst.

-Why?

-This is true. We realise that the best thing you can do is

to take it with a salt of grain.

-A pinch of salt.

-A pinch of salt, exactly.

-Definitely.

-There is an English expression which goes,

if you can't beat them, join them.

I think that's part of it.

And OK, you're here, you're conquering us,

but what good can come of that?

Is there anything that you can offer me that I don't have?

And I think cuisine is definitely a big part of that.

Religion as well, yes, because something that is very

complex about Mexicans is the way that they

incorporate their, let's say, pagan beliefs,

very pre-Hispanic, with the Catholic religion that was imposed on them.

And the same is true of cuisine.

I suppose it's very easy when you look at some work of Diego Rivera,

and you think of the indigenous population, Indians,

as being the noble ones and you've got these pictures of all these

frightful-looking Spanish but basically Mexico is a mix of both.

-It is.

-But there doesn't seem to be any racial tension in Mexico,

there's lots of other things going on, of course, but I don't notice

any racial tension at all.

No. I think that definitely we are not a people

that discriminate against each other based on racial issues.

It's definitely more of a gender issue.

And the whole macho, Mexican macho kind of thing.

Perhaps even elitist, yes, issues.

But definitely race is not an issue.

I think we all embrace each other as Mexicans, but we all know just by

looking at each other that we all

have a mix of Spanish, French, Lebanese.

It would be impossible for us to be racist against each other.

So...

Ailyn mentioned this place, the Dominican convent of Santa Rosa,

a culinary icon and the birthplace of Mexico's most famous dish

that's always the centre of every feast day, mole poblano.

They say it was created without any planning, almost like a miracle.

I like a bit of a story with famous food.

I'm thinking of things like tapas,

originally invented a bit of bread with something on it in Spain to put

on top of your sherry glass to keep the flies off.

Or if you think of something like pizza margarita,

just invented by a baker in Naples in honour of the Royal family.

So you've got the colours of the Italian flag in that.

And the humble sandwich,

invented by the Earl of Sandwich so that he could sit at the gambling

table and not have to break his habit by going off for some lunch.

Great story, and this one is a good story too actually.

The nuns in this convent were a closed order,

they weren't allowed to speak

and they weren't allowed to eat anything exotic.

But they made lots of exotic dishes to make money for the convent

and one day the vice regent,

the vice regent from Spain announced he was coming

and they had to come up with something really special.

So they invented this wonderful sauce to go with local turkey,

the mole poblano.

And it came from chillies, from tortillas, from chocolate,

from almonds and from sugar,

all pounded together.

And so much did the vice regent like this dish,

he ordered that the kitchen here in the convent should be tiled

by Spanish Talavera tiles,

in the 16th century

possibly the most sought-after tiles in the world.

Santa Rosa. Es una cocina de finales del siglo 17.

Jesus Vasquez is the curator here,

a man very proud of this brilliant kitchen.

I asked Jesus, what does mole mean to him?

A ti tanto te gusta mole a ti?

Guau. Desde muy pequeno, a mi me ensenaron a degustar este platillo.

He said he started knowing mole when he was very young.

The families in fiesta time would always prepare mole.

-It was the best.

-Una fiesta de mole.

So every time you're going to have a party,

everyone expects to have a mole meal.

Aunque es un poquito dificil,

porque hay muchas recetas diferentes de mole.

He said, but there are lots of different moles,

it depends where you are in Mexico.

But whatever they are, I love them.

Y todas las recetas son muy buenas.

So back at home in Padstow, I thought I'd cook one of these moles.

It would be so disrespectful if I didn't.

It will have chillies of course,

it's going to be smoky hot and sweet but not too much.

So here it goes.

So, first of all I'm toasting these chillies.

The first one I'm putting in there is called mulato.

They are very fruity.

And now in here goes some pasillas, again they're very fruity chillies.

And it's really important, very important just to toast them,

not to burn them.

Otherwise your mole will always taste bitter.

And I can't tell you how lovely this smell is and how the Mexicans worked

out that drying and toasting chillies

would create such a unique flavour, I don't know.

So for now those hot toasted chillies

go into water to be used later.

Next I toast bread - that helps to thicken the sauce.

Sesame seeds, they are very prominent in the dish

and now almonds.

The sesame seeds are starting to get a bit active.

I hope there will be some left by the time I'm finished toasting,

they're popping up all over the place.

Then chilli seeds, coriander seeds and peppercorns,

a big piece of cinnamon and I'm just going to toast that.

Just press the bread down a bit, try and toast that a bit more.

And now over to my spice grinder,

just putting all those spices in there.

I'm just going to finely cut the bread up,

because otherwise it won't blend properly.

And there we are ready to grind.

So just look at that, just slightly smoking but not too hot.

Beautiful toasted smell.

Lovely that, it's so important, I keep stressing it,

not to over toast any of it.

Because it's all about this sort of lovely,

mellow, toasted flavour in the final sauce.

This is not one of those dishes you decide to do after you come home

from the cinema unless you like eating at four in the morning.

I put in green bananas, in Mexico they would use plantains.

There's onion, currants, garlic, one clove roughly chopped.

Some ground cloves, just a pinch, and oregano.

It's just smelling so fruity and delicious.

I've got really good thoughts about this mole poblano, I must say.

I think, as I say again, as long as you don't overcook anything,

it really is quite a subtle sauce.

Albeit a tad complicated.

And now just going to add that into the blender.

And then get my soaked chillies.

And drop those in, too.

And finally some chicken stock,

that's just to get everything turning round in the blender.

This is a dish, I'm afraid, where

you have to be in love with the very thought of making it.

You can't cut corners, it is what it is, a true labour of love.

So just cleaning these bits and bobs out of the bottom of the pan

with a bit of kitchen paper.

And now in goes my mole.

All but the chocolate.

Get that all in there, it's looking a bit thick.

I'm just going to add some stock to loosen it up a bit,

some chicken stock.

And now here we go with the chocolate.

Do you have to use chocolate?

Yes, of course you have to use chocolate,

it's a classic Mexican mole poblano and chocolate is Mexican produce.

You know, of course it's got to have chocolate in it.

I mean you must have had things like hare with chocolate from France?

-No.

-No?

And what about sometimes they put chocolate into a red wine,

deep red wine sauce with some beef.

-No.

-So you've never cooked with chocolate in a savoury way before?

-No.

-You're missing something, honestly, this is really good.

So, anyway, just adding that chocolate.

It's quite unsweet chocolate as well so...

And a bit more stock now.

Just maybe another half pint, 300ml of stock.

Just got to make sure that the sauce is quite loose,

doesn't want to be too thick, but it does need to be a bit thick.

I'm just going to leave that to simmer down for about five minutes.

Now I fry a couple of chicken breasts in hot oil.

The Mexicans would use turkey,

especially at celebrations

and turkey is a native bird of Mexico and not Turkey.

Strange that, isn't it?

I actually like to see the chicken underneath, because I think if it is

completely covered with chocolate sauce,

it just doesn't look particularly appetising.

But I think that looks really nice.

And just finish off with a few sprinkles of sesame seeds

and I really think that as a first course, that is perfection.

For a main course, for us Westerners, for us gringos,

maybe a little too much.

It's a very long way from Puebla to Oaxaca.

But there's a point to my journey. The two Mexican culinary icons:

the mole and the mezcal.

And this is where I feel I'm in cowboy country.

I can sense Sam Peckinpah, The Wild Bunch,

and Bring Me The Head Of Alfredo Garcia.

Oh, yes.

This is where they make their celebrated mezcal,

much-loved by the Mexicans.

It is a clear drink, a bit like tequila.

To me it has a taste of smoky brown sugar with a slight hint of lime.

I love it. But it's very strong.

-Rick.

-Carlos. I've heard a lot about you.

And I've actually tasted your mezcal, too.

This is the boss here, Carlos Moreno.

They call these little distilling farms palenques.

-So why do you love making mezcal?

-Mezcal.

I'm Oaxacan,

you know, it's in my blood, I think.

The amazing thing in mezcal is that each village,

the terroir...the older people have their own way to make mezcal.

and that gives it identity.

That's the reason why we work in different communities,

and we don't try to make all the production in just one place.

So I suppose if you love mezcal,

you would identify each little...

-..palenque?

-Palenques.

-Palenque.

And you'd understand that this was special to this particular palenque?

You can have more than 30 expressions of mezcal,

you know, in one community.

But if you move that same agave in another community,

because you change the wood, you change the days of fermentation,

that's where the magic happens, you know,

where the sugars become alcohol, and when you distill, it's...

It will be different. It will be different.

These are the hearts of the agave plant that grow everywhere here.

This is what mezcal is made from.

People say when the leaves have been chopped,

they look a bit like monster pine cones.

In fact the locals call them that - pinas.

We cultivate this one, it takes around seven years.

Seven to nine years, it depends on the weather.

-How much do they weigh?

-Each one is around 60kg.

-60kg?

-It doesn't matter sometimes

the size of the agave, but it's sweet, that's what we need.

Everything about the production of this is sort of macho, isn't it?

You've got a heavy...

You've got to cut them in half.

Great scenery, great dry country, it's fabulous.

-It is. Ah. Yeah.

-Sorry.

I'm not very good with smoke. THEY CHUCKLE

This is really hot work under the baking sun.

They build a huge, smoky fire to heat up rocks in a massive fire pit.

This is where the pinas are roasted, because they're full of fibre.

They are really tough,

but they're also very sweet, so they need lots of time to

cook to soften, to yield those lovely sugars.

After we cook it,

we bring it here to this masher and put it in the fermentation.

So there's no juice coming out of the...?

Not really. The agave is very dry.

What we need to do is smash it and

-then we need to add water in the fermentation.

-Oh, I see.

-Yes.

-Is there any real reason for the horse?

It looks great. I can't imagine any...

But could you use a more modern way of doing it?

Yes, it could be possible,

-but we love to keep the tradition.

-Good stuff.

THEY CHUCKLE

So after a week or so in these barrels,

fermentation is complete and then

it's all put into these distillation pits

to steam, to cool, to evaporate and to end up with a clear,

delightful liquid.

After all the smoke and heat, I can't wait to try it.

The first one we're going to try is an ensemble, we call it.

-A blend?

-A blend.

It's four different wild agaves inside this bottle.

You can taste what I've just experienced.

In the fermentation, in the distilling, even in the smoking.

Oh, that's gorgeous. That's a single, that's a single...

-Agave. Yes.

-What's it called?

-Tobaziche.

-Tobaziche.

-Very earthy.

-Hm.

Gosh, that's good. And lastly?

-And this one we will have...

-Just there.

-...a tepeztate.

This is a wild agave. We need to bring it from the mountains.

Ah. That's wild. Dare I say, it's furious.

I am going to become a mezcal drinker,

-not for the effect, but for the flavour.

-Yeah.

-Cheers.

-Salud.

-Salud.

-Stigibeu in Zapotecan.

-What's that?

-Stigibeu.

-Nish-vel.

-Stigibeu.

-Dish-vel.

Dish-vel.

It's not the best cup, it's running down my chin.

I think it's broken, right, or something. Because it's...

Next I go to a whirling wedding in Oaxaca.

Well, every film about Mexico has got to have a wedding in it.

Then into the tropics,

to the mountains to discover cacao

and the joys of making chocolate from scratch.

This is what every beef lover dreams -

beef on charcoals, simply cooked.

Perfection.