Business first: If you haven't yet tossed your name in the ring to win the gorgeous giveaway basket of Tate's Bake Shop cookies and brownies, today is your last chance. Just visit this post and leave a comment by 12pm. I will announce the winner tomorrow.Happy Halloween! Or All Hallow's Eve, if you will. Tomorrow is the Day of the Dead, the traditional holiday for celebrating friends and family who have died. It's a big deal in Mexico, with elaborate picnics transported right to the grave sites featuring favorite foods of the deceased. It's sort of like a tailgate party, but without the football. In honor of this occasion, I offer you a recipe for one of my most beloved dishes, typical of the Mexican cooking I ate growing up. I wonder who will bring it to my gravesite when I'm gone...
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I opened the fridge and saw a jar of red chile puree, left over from our chile-fest the other weekend, and thought, instantly: enchiladas. Italians have their red sauce, their seminal tomato "gravy" that gets right to the heart of who they are as a people, a culture, and New Mexicans have their own version, a thick, smoky and deeply complex puree of toasted chiles that is their lifeblood. My mother poured hers from a can—routine at that time, but seems like sacrilege now. It was my grandmother who taught me to lightly toast the leathery, dried chiles in a hot skillet, then soak them before pureeing them in the blender. I've got my own methods now, but the whole process still connects me to the women who came before, the ones who made pink beans and sopaipillas and tamales with their own hands. This is the food of my people, and it tastes of courage, the earth and love.
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