Turkey tamales with guajillo-cranberry mole

My dad’s family always gets together the Saturday after Thanksgiving. I think this is smart as there’s nothing more stressful then either having to make a choice on where to eat on Thanksgiving or—even worse—shuttling between two huge dinners in order to make everyone happy. Nope, Thanksgiving should be a time where you can enjoy yourself and savor both the meal and company, something that my dad’s side of the family has figured out how to do right.

The food on offer at this Saturday gathering is usually Thanksgiving fare, with Uncle Bubba providing additional entertainment by frying up a turkey or two outside. Now, I have to admit, I haven’t been to one of these feasts in quite some time as I return to New York the Saturday after Thanksgiving to avoid the Sunday-travel rush. Graciously, however, I’m always included in the discussion about the get-together, and this year Aunt Janet decided to mix things up a bit by suggesting that a Mexican feast would be more fun instead.

As I started reading the emails from family chiming in on what they’d provide, I was inspired when I saw a request for tamales. As we enter December it also marks the beginning of tamalada season, a time when Texan families gather to make a mess of tamales to feed friends and family throughout the holidays. And what better stuffing for a tamale than leftover turkey?



Turkey tamales are usually made with one of two salsas, either a tangy tomatillo or a rich mole (pronounced moe-lay). I find that smoked turkey goes especially well with a zesty salsa verde, but nothing beats roasted turkey paired with the earthy bittersweet flavor of mole—it’s a classic combination. I am, however, not one to follow the rules. So while a traditional mole poblano is usually comprised of ancho and pasilla chiles, along with almonds and raisins, I made up a Thanksgiving-themed mole with dried cranberries, pecans and the bright berry-like guajillo chiles instead.

Now, I reckon mole purists may scoff at this salsa, but I believe that the flavors definitely work well together. I often find that traditional mole can be a bit heavy, which after a few days of solid eating may be a bit much for your system to handle. This guajillo-cranberry mole, however, while still complex also has a lightness to it that’s not so overpowering. But the best thing about turkey tamales is that after being soaked in sauce and steamed even the most dried-out turkey meat becomes soft and succulent—a fine way to enjoy the bird.

What do you usually make with your leftovers? I’m still a big fan of the day-after-Thanksgiving sandwich made with leftover turkey, a smear of mashed-potatoes and a spoonful of cranberry relish all doused in gravy. But if you’re looking for a Tex-Mex twist, I highly recommend making tamales.



I wish I could join my family on Saturday as nothing beats seeing loved ones while savoring a Tex-Mex potluck. I will be with them in spirit, however, as I put my leftover turkey to work and make a batch of turkey tamales. Happy Thanksgiving!

Turkey tamales with guajillo-cranberry mole

For the filling:
4 dried guajillo chiles, stems and seeds removed
2 dried ancho chiles, stems and seeds removed
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/4 medium yellow onion, cut into wedges
4 cloves garlic
1/2 cup pecans
1 teaspoon sesame seeds
1/2 cup dried cranberries
1 teaspoon unsweetened cocoa
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground allspice
1/4 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 cup canned crushed tomatoes, drained
1 corn tortilla, torn into strips
2 cups chicken or turkey broth
4 cups shredded turkey
Salt to taste

For the tamales:
Dried cornhusks
1 cup lard, shortening or butter, room temperature
4 cups masa harina
2 cups turkey, chicken or turkey broth
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
Salt to taste

Method:
To make the mole, in a dry skillet heated on high, toast the guajillo and ancho chiles on each side for about 10 seconds or just until they start to puff. Fill the skillet with enough water to cover chiles. Leave the heat on until water begins to boil and then turn off the heat and let chiles soak until soft, about 45 minutes. Once hydrated, discard the soaking water, rinse the chiles and place into a blender.

Meanwhile, pick through the cornhusks and choose the widest ones. You'll need 24 for the tamales plus a couple of more to rip into strips for fastening the tamales. Place the cornhusks in a pan of boiling water, turn off the heat and submerge until completely covered. Let soak for 45 minutes or until soft and pliable.

Add the vegetable oil to the skillet and while stirring occasionally cook on medium-low heat the onions and garlic cloves until they start to brown, about 5 minutes. Lift the onions and garlic from the skillet with a slotted spatula and place into the blender. In the same skillet, add the pecans and while stirring occasionally cook on medium-low heat until they are slightly darker and fragrant, about 3 minutes. Add the sesame seeds and cook for 1 more minute. Add the roasted nuts to the blender.

Also add to the blender the cranberries, cocoa, cinnamon, allspice, cloves, crushed tomatoes, corn tortilla strips and broth. Blend on high speed until smooth.

Pour the mole into a pot, and cook on medium-low heat for 20 minutes, tasting and adjusting spices and adding salt if necessary. Once the mole has cooked, pour out half the mole and set aside. Add the shredded turkey to the pot with the remaining mole and stir until the meat and mole are well combined.

To make the masa dough, in a mixer, beat the lard or butter until fluffy and creamy. Add the masa harina, chicken broth and cayenne and continue to beat until the dough comes together into a moist dough. Taste and add salt if necessary

To form the tamales, take a moistened cornhusk, which you’ll notice has four sides and is in sort of a cone shape. Place the cornhusk in front of you, with the pointed end at your right. In the center of the husk, spoon out 1/4 cup of the masa and spread it leaving a clean border around the masa. Place 1 tablespoon of the sauced turkey in the center of the masa along with 1 teaspoon of the mole salsa.

Now, join together the two long sides (not the pointed side and the wide side) and then roll the husk until it’s about the width of a cigar. Take the narrower, pointed end and fold it up about 1/4 way of the tamale. You can leave it like this or you can rip strips from a cornhusk and tie the tamale in the middle. Alternatively, you can rip strips from a cornhusk and after rolling, tie up each end like it’s a package.

In a large pot, place a steamer basket or a colander. Add water to the pot just to the base of the basket. Place the tamales in the basket seam side down, bring the water to a boil and then cover the pot and turn the heat down to low.

Check the water level occasionally to make sure there’s enough in the pot, and steam the tamales for 2 hours. You’ll know they’re done when the masa pulls cleanly away from the husk. Serve with additional mole sauce. They will keep in the refrigerator for a couple of days and can also be frozen. To reheat the tamales, once thawed, steam them for 20 minutes.

Yield: 24 tamales.

Note: If you’re not a fan of mole, try making the tamales with a tomatillo salsa instead. You can find masa harina and dried chiles at Mexican grocers. Many regular stores, such as Whole Foods in NYC, now carry these ingredients as well.

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Pecan cobbler with sorghum syrup

If you stop at a barbecue joint or at a catfish shack in small towns across Texas, more than likely one of your dessert options will be pecan cobbler. Its appeal is wide yet you don’t see it often offered on larger city menus, which for me makes it all the more of a down-home dessert.

Now, you may be asking yourself, “What exactly is pecan cobbler?” I was wondering the same thing myself recently when a reader asked me for my best recipe. See, as much as my family loves its cobblers and our pecans, we’ve never served pecan cobbler. Nope, our pecan dessert of choice is a gooey custardy slice of pecan pie.

A little research was obviously in order. First, let’s talk about cobbler. When I think of cobbler I think of a filling, usually fruit, that has a crust on top. It can be a pie-like crust, a cake-like crust or a biscuit-like crust. But the key to a cobbler is that the crust and the filling intermingle usually with an equal ratio of crust to filling.

The majority of the pecan cobbler recipes I saw, however, had a pecan-pie filling on top of a piecrust. Perhaps I’m missing something, but I failed to see how this was any different from pecan pie, except perhaps that the cobbler was baked in a square baking pan instead of a pie pan.



My search continued. I then spoke to a friend who has eaten much pecan cobbler and he assured me that that those recipes appeared to be wrong—the crust should indeed be soft and fluffy, like a biscuit. After a little more digging, at last I discovered a recipe on Texas Monthly’s recipe swap. It was there that I found a woman who did make hers with a biscuit base and so I used that as a starting point for my adaptation.

As I’ve been finishing up my book, I’ve been reading many of my family’s letters. I came across one from my great-grandma where she talks about my grandpa making sorghum syrup with his father and brothers. While pecan cobbler wasn’t a dish my family made, in a nod to my heritage I decided to bake cobbler with sorghum syrup instead of the usual Karo syrup so often found in pecan pie.

Now, if you’ve never had the pleasure, sorghum syrup has a buttery, slightly burnt flavor that reminds me of caramel (or a bowl of Wheat Chex doused in honey, which was my favorite breakfast when I was in the 5th grade). It’s nowhere near as bittersweet and strong as molasses but sorghum syrup can be assertive. Paired with pecans, however, and the sorghum syrup brings out the best of this warm sweet nut—making the two together a natural team.



So how about that pecan cobbler? Well, when I tucked into my first (and yes, there was more than one) bowl I was reminded of pecan sticky buns or capirotada. And when topped with a sweet cool dollop of whipped cream, it was the ultimate in cold-weather comfort. Now, pecan cobbler won’t replace my love of pecan pie. But it doesn’t have to, as pecan cobbler is more than capable of standing alone. And, as always, small-town Texas barbecue joints and catfish shacks have done something right.

Pecan cobbler with sorghum syrup

Crust ingredients:
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon granulated sugar
1/2 teaspoon sea salt
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
4 tablespoons (1/2 a stick) butter, chilled
1/2 cup half and half

Filling ingredients:
4 large eggs
2 tablespoons half and half
3/4 cup brown sugar
4 tablespoons (1/2 a stick) butter, melted
1 cup sorghum syrup
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 1/2 cups pecan halves

Whipped cream or vanilla ice cream for serving

Method:
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees and grease a 9x9-baking dish or a large cast-iron skillet.

Mix together the flour, sugar, salt and baking powder. Cut the butter into pieces and work it into the flour mixture with your hands or a pastry blender until it resembles pea-sized crumbs. Stir in the half and half, mixing until a bit loose and sticky. Pour dough out on a floured surface and knead for a minute. Roll until 1/8-inch thick and then press into the bottom of the baking dish or skillet.

To make the filling, mix together the eggs, half and half and brown sugar until well blended. Stir in the melted butter, sorghum syrup, cinnamon, sea salt and vanilla extract and stir until smooth and well blended. Place the pecans on top of the crust and then pour the filling over it. Bake uncovered for 40-45 minutes or until the custard is set. (Be sure not to overcook the cobbler, however, as it can become dry.)

Serve warm topped with whipped cream or vanilla ice cream. And if you like the combination of sweet and salty, I highly recommend a light sprinkling of Maldon sea salt flakes on top as well.

Yield: 8 servings

Note: You can buy sorghum syrup at many farmers markets and specialty stores. If you choose, however, you can substitute in equal amounts Lyle’s Golden Syrup or Karo.

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Cactus casserole with rice, ancho chiles and cheese

Every year at this time, I face the same problem. See, I’m a bit lackadaisical when it comes to buying my plane ticket home for Thanksgiving. And now that it’s so close to the date, prices have risen to insane heights. Oh, you’d think that I’d get wise and start buying my ticket early, but much to the consternation of my family I do this to myself every year.

Of course, I tell myself that if it’s meant to happen I will be with my family. I am patient and calm. But one person who I know for certain won’t be at the farm for Thanksgiving this year is my cousin Andrew, who will be with his girlfriend’s family instead. And since Andrew is always in charge of green-bean casserole, I just don’t know if we’ll be serving it this year or not.

Well, this got me thinking.



Have you ever eaten cactus? Edible cactus, which in Spanish is known as nopal, comes from the prickly pear cactus, a beautiful plant that dots the landscape of West Texas. The plant has wide paddles that resemble a beaver’s tail and with a little care (yes, you remove the thorns) the paddles make for a delicious vegetable. It’s also extremely nutritious, as some studies have noted that eating cactus helps treat diabetes and lower cholesterol levels. Though health benefits aside, I simply like to eat it because it tastes so darn good.

Eating cactus is pretty common in Texas, especially in San Antonio and along the border. The most frequent application is cactus scrambled with eggs, which makes for a fine breakfast taco filling. But you can also make cactus salad, cactus soup, cactus relleno or simply grill it and serve it with roasted meat.

When people ask, “What does cactus taste like,” the best answer is that it’s similar to green beans. And so with this in mind, I decided to make a cactus casserole to replace the green-bean casserole we won’t be eating this year.

Another popular way to serve cactus is to cook it in a chile cream sauce, which is what I used as the base for my casserole. But taking a nod from that other popular Southern holiday staple, broccoli and rice casserole, I decided to add some rice and cheese to my cactus casserole as well.

I have to admit, when I made this I had no idea how it would taste as I was just acting on a whim. But it’s hard to go wrong with a combination of cheese, rice, sour cream and chiles, and even if you think you don’t like cactus, this is an excellent way to try it for the first time.



For the past couple of weeks we’ve been bombarded with reminders that Thanksgiving is coming soon, so perhaps your Thanksgiving menu is already planned. But you certainly don’t need a holiday to eat this cactus casserole, just an urge to eat something that’s a little strange but at the same time is also a little familiar. If it is your first time eating cactus, I hope that you enjoy it and want to try it again. And if you do eat cactus, how do you like to prepare it?

Cactus casserole
2 dried ancho chiles, seeds and stems removed
3/4 pound cactus paddles (or one 15 ounce jar of cactus paddles)
1 tablespoon canola oil
1/2 medium yellow onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 cups sour cream
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon ground oregano
1/4 teaspoon ground allspice
1/4 teaspoon cayenne
3 cups cooked rice
1 pound Monterrey Jack cheese, shredded
Salt to taste

Method:
In a dry skillet heated on high, toast the ancho chiles on each side for about 10 seconds or just until they start to puff. Fill the skillet with enough water to cover the chiles. Leave the heat on until water begins to boil and then turn off the heat and let the chiles soak until soft, about 20 minutes. Once hydrated, discard the soaking water and rinse the chiles. Place the chiles in a blender with 1/4 cup of water and blend until a paste forms.

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.

For the cactus, if you’re using fresh cactus paddles, first you’ll need to remove the thorns. To do this, trim off the thick base and the edges of the paddle, about 1/8 of an inch all around. Wearing a glove, one at a time, hold each paddle over the sink and while running water over it, scrub it with a vegetable or pot scrubber on both sides until all the thorns are gone. You can also scrape the paddle with a paring knife, but be careful not to also scrape off too much of the green skin.

Slice the cleaned paddles into thin (about 2 inches by 1/4 inch) strips and place in a pot of water. Bring to a boil and then simmer uncovered for 15 minutes. Drain and rinse well under cold water. If using canned paddles, simply drain them and then rinse with cold water.

In a large cast-iron skillet, heat up the canola oil on medium heat. Add the onions to the skillet and cook until translucent, about 5 minutes. Add the garlic and cook for one more minute. Remove the skillet from the heat.

In a bowl, mix together the sour cream the ancho chile paste, the cumin, the oregano, the allspice, the cayenne and half the shredded cheese. Then stir in the cooked rice and the cactus. Taste and add salt and adjust the seasonings. Spoon the sour cream, rice and cactus mixture into the greased skillet, stirring well to combine with the onions and garlic. Top with the remaining shredded cheese.

Bake uncovered for 30 minutes or until brown and bubbling.

Yield: 8-10 servings

Notes: Cactus paddles, both fresh and canned, can be found at any Mexican grocery. Canned ones can be found at many regular supermarkets as well. In Spanish, they are called nopales or nopalitos, which is how they will be probably labeled at a Mexican grocery. And you can substitute 2 tablespoons chili powder for the ancho chiles if you prefer.

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Sweet potato biscuits with chorizo cream gravy and Foodways Texas

On Wednesday mornings, I take a tour of Texas’s foodways via its newspapers. I may learn about Mexican cookies being baked in San Antonio; a chile pepper rivalry between El Paso and New Mexico; a sausage festival in Lubbock; the effects of extreme heat on the Valley’s citrus industry; and how this year’s crop of Galveston oysters have finally arrived.

Foodways is defined by Merriam-Webster as “the eating habits and culinary practices of a people, region, or historical period.” And Texan foodways are an endless source of fascination for me, a topic I never tire of consuming whether it’s through research, discussion or by simply sharing Texan food at the table.

I've mentioned my association with the Southern Foodways Alliance (SFA), a group dedicated to preserving Southern food culture. And while I do consider Texas part of the South, I also consider it beyond being simply Southern as Texas, with its diverse foodways that span from the Mexican border, along the Gulf Coast, through the Piney Woods and Hill Country on up to the panhandle plains, is a place unique to itself.



Back in July, I was part of a group comprised of restaurateurs, writers, ranchers, farmers, fisherman, brewers and academics that met on the campus of Texas A&M with the purpose of creating a group dedicated to preserving, promoting and celebrating our rich food culture. And by the end of the day, we had formed a new group known as Foodways Texas.

We’re still in the early stages, but we have an executive director—Marvin Bendele an academic and author who worked on the fine book, “The Republic of Barbecue.” We also have a web site, foodwaystexas.com; two upcoming fundraising/membership-drive events—one in Houston and one in San Antonio; we have produced our first film on Texan sorghum syrup; and we are planning a symposium on Gulf seafood to be held next spring. We also have an alliance with the University of Texas, which will support our oral-history projects, films and other documentary work; and we also have a relationship with Texas A&M, which through its various statewide campuses will help with hosting our events.

I’m excited about Foodways Texas because we’ll be able document our state’s great food stories, such as the wonderful ones my grandmother shares about our family’s farming history. But beyond being an historical endeavor, we’ll also have fun gathering and sharing our state’s cuisine. If you love Texan food and culture, I urge you to join Foodways Texas so together we can share and celebrate the great state of Texas’s amazingly rich and diverse food cultures.



Now, before I let you go, please let me share with you a dish that could be considered emblematic of Texan foodways: sweet potato biscuits with chorizo gravy.

My family has long grown sweet potatoes. And they’ll definitely be on the table at Thanksgiving, as they are every year. We mash them and use them in sweet potato pie, but let me tell you—they also make for an excellent biscuit as well. I got the idea for these from the SFA symposium—they were served at a breakfast at the symposium that I missed. But just the thought of sweet potato biscuits had me curious so as soon as I returned to New York, I took to my kitchen to try making them.

I have an old recipe for potato biscuits and I simply swapped the sweet potato for the regular potato. If you’re a fan of the tender sweetness of potato bread, I know that you’ll love these biscuits. And because many of us enjoy drowning our biscuits in cream gravy, I decided to take this Texan classic and throw in some Mexican chorizo and cilantro as a nod to Texas’s various heritages.



Please enjoy these sweet potato biscuits and the chorizo gravy. And please also think about joining Foodways Texas, so we can all preserve, promote and celebrate the diverse food cultures of Texas.

Sweet potato biscuits with chorizo cream gravy
Sweet potato biscuit ingredients:
1 sweet potato (about 1/2 pound)
2 1/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon baking powder
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon granulated sugar
1/4 teaspoon chipotle powder
8 tablespoons (1 stick) of cold butter, sliced
1/2 cup buttermilk or half-and-half

Chorizo cream gravy ingredients:
1 tablespoon vegetable oil
1/4 pound Mexican chorizo, crumbled
2 tablespoons of flour

1 1/2 cups of milk

1 tablespoon chopped cilantro
Salt black pepper and chipotle powder to taste.

Method:
Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Poke holes in the sweet potato with a fork and place on a foil-lined sheet. Place in the oven and cook until tender, about 1 hour.

Leaving the oven on, remove the sweet potato and slice in half, lengthwise. Scoop out 1/2 cup of flesh, reserving the rest for another use.

Mix together the flour, baking powder, salt, sugar and chipotle powder. Cut the stick of butter into pieces, and work into the flour mixture with your hands or a pastry blender until it resembles pea-sized crumbs. Stir in the 1/2 cup of cooked sweet potato and the buttermilk, mixing until a bit loose and sticky.

Pour dough out on a floured surface, and knead for a minute. The dough will be smooth but a bit wetter than a regular biscuit dough, so you can sprinkle more flour on the surface if you find it’s sticking too much. Take the dough into a ball, and hit it with a rolling pin, turning it and folding it in half every few whacks. Do this for a couple of minutes. Roll out dough until it’s a quarter of an inch thick and then fold it in half.

Using a round cutter (can use a glass or a cup if don’t have a biscuit cutter) cut out your biscuits from folded dough. Place on a greased baking sheet or in a cast-iron skillet close together (so they rise up not out) and bake for 15 minutes or until the tops are golden brown.

While the biscuits are baking, make the chorizo gravy. Warm the oil in a skillet on medium heat, and cook the chorizo until browned. With a slotted spatula, remove chorizo from the skillet and place on a plate. Drain the oil from the pan reserving 2 tablespoons in the skillet.

Combine the oil in the pan with the flour in a hot skillet and while continuously stirring cook on medium low for a couple of minutes until a roux is formed. Add milk slowly to skillet and mix with the roux using either a whisk or wooden spoon (be sure and press out any lumps). Turn heat to low and continue stirring until mixture is thickened, a couple more minutes. 


Stir in the chorizo and cilantro, and add salt, black pepper and chipotle powder to taste. If gravy is too thick for your taste, you can thin it by adding either more milk or water a tablespoon at a time.

To assemble the biscuits and gravy, slice each biscuit in half and drizzle with gravy.

Yield: 4-6 servings

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