Making Leftovers: Fried Tacos with Mole Negro

Here is a simple way to make use of some good leftovers. A few days after I made pork loin and mole negro, I still had quite a bit of mole left over. What to do with it? Why not try something interesting, such as beef tacos with mole? Hmm . . . might as well give it a try.

This recipe is simple. First, take a protein of your choosing and cook it 90% or so. Then add as much mole as you'd like to the protein (potatoes would work well for this too). Stir in the mole, then add the meat and mole mixture to a taco shell (I prefer corn, but flour works too). Once the tacos are stuffed, seal the taco top together with a toothpick—this will keep the tacos together when fried. Once stuffed, heat some canola or other oil in a pan, and fry tacos until golden. Serve with toppings of your choosing. It's that easy . . . delicious tacos, using leftovers, and very inexpensive.

I chose to use ground beef, and made half of my tacos with mole, and half without. Both were delicious, especially with fresh guacamole, grilled onions, and heirloom tomatoes. Santé.

Taza Chocolate: 2009 Limited Edition Chiapas Bar

Yes, it's that wonderful time of the year again, the what seems like is going to be a wonderful annual tradition—a limited edition chocolate bar from Chiapas.

A little background: Taza is one of these modern eco-minded food companies, and one of a handful of American eco-friendly / world-friendly / conscience-minded chocolate companies that have sprung up over the last few years. A what a joy they are, each of them with their own distinguishing points, yet all focused on the same thing: making the best chocolate possible.

Now, before I get into a review of this particular bar, there are a few things I'd like to get out of the way about chocolate (I'll put this in its own post too, to serve as some sort of chocolate creed, if you will . . .). Keeping these things in mind will help to clarify my feelings about chocolate in general, which bars I like, which bars I don't, and why:

1. European chocolate is not the best in the world. In fact, most of it is low quality, tasteless, and mass produced from under-developed plants from Africa.

1a. Do not assume greatness because a bar is from Europe

1b. Overall, American chocolate makers, today, are making the best chocolate bars in the world, despite strong competitors from around the world (yes, I said it . . . Belgian chocolate can take a smelly back seat or something, because, in all honesty, most of it sucks). Yes, and I'll say this again and again: American's are leading the chocolate revolution; and, lucky for us, we live just across the bay from where the best chocolate is grown.

2. Bean-to-bar chocolate making is as essential to fine chocolate and chocolate purchasing, as estate wine-making or olive-oil making is to their respective industries.

3. Terroir is important when considering chocolate beans.

4. Fair trade agreements with farmers does make better chocolate—there is no substitute for poorly or improperly fermented beans, akin to (imagine) poorly fermented wine grapes, and fair agreements help to ensure that the farmers put care into their work.

5. Learn about percentages of cacao, the type of bean used in a bar, and the region the beans come from when making a purchase—you'll quickly find out what you like, and how to separate the higher quality items from the marketing ploys and corporate names.

6. Seek out good chocolate, which your local grocery store probably doesn't carry—it's worth it (and I can help . . . I've had pretty much everything).

On to this Taza bar. . . .

I love the idea behind this bar. First off, I really enjoy Taza's chocolate. Their philosophy is great (see link to website above), and their dedication to maintaining Mexican grinding practices when producing their chocolate lends and unforgettable flavor and texture to their bars. And, unlike traditional Mexican chocolate (Ibarra—also the Italian don Puglisi . . . reviews to come), Taza's bars do not have the sugar crystals throughout.

So here's what excites me about this bar, a special edition bar with beans from Chiapas, besides the fact that it's limited edition, something new to try from this brand: the beans are from Chiapas. In truth, of the over 150 chocolate bars I've tasted, there have only been a few crafted from Mexican beans, and even less with beans from Chiapas. I mean, these bars made from Venezuelan beans are a dime a dozen, or thereabout . . . but beans from Chiapas? A true rarity.

There is the easy ones to find, like Askninosie's Soconusco bar (Soconusco is a region in Chiapas). There are the more difficult ones, like bars from Mexico or Cacao Sampaka in Spain (reviews of both to come). And there is also the 2008 Chiapas bar from Taza, which is long gone now, only 1392 being produced. It's only natural, then, that the 2009 Chiapas bar from Taza is of great interest to me. I placed my order for two bars as soon as they became available, and waited patiently for their arrival. And, soon enough, they were on my doorstep, fresh and ready to eat.

On to the bar. Same packaging as last year, looks and smells similar to other Taza bars, but very different from last year's bar . . . this one smells very chocolately, fruity, and very deep. Upon tasting, I really enjoyed this bar. It has deep fruity notes, which are dark and resonating berry-like. It also that wonderful Taza texture that I love—that slight grit which prevents any waxiness—and has a great finish.

Overall, I like this bar. It's good. I wouldn't say that it is great however, nor does it possess any truly unique flavor profiles that I haven't tasted before (contrary to the company's twitter, which suggested flavors yet unknown). Check out Taza's website for more info on the bar. Sadly, to again disagree with them, I do not taste pound cake or pine on the finish. C'est la vie, I suppose.

If I had to rank the bar, I suppose it would be somewhere between the middle and the top. In reference to other bars with Mexican beans, I like Cacao Sampaka's bars much more, and last year's bar better as well. I do think, however, that this bar is better than Askinosie's bar.

Pork Loin and Mole Negro

With an ardent love for all moles, and a love (maybe not ardent) for Rick Bayless (especially after Top Chef Masters), I decided today to try and make Bayless' recipe for Puerco en Mole Negro from his restaurant Topolobampo in Chicago. I think, if I'm not mistaken, this is the fabled recipe Bayless used to secure his spot as the Top Chef Master . . . he claimed in took him 20 years to make a satisfactory mole—hopefully I can do his recipe (at least) some justice.

I started out by walking to Vallarta, a Mexican supermakret just a few blocks from my house, to pick up most of the ingredients. The list was long and extensive, taking me to parts of the market I'd never been to (see recipe for complete list).

All the ingredients in place, time to get cooking. . . .

First step: making the marinade for the pork loin. The marinade is fairly straight-forward. Blend a bunch of ingredients together and let the pork marinade overnight. To make the marinade, I used one can of Chipoltle peppers in adobo sauce, reserving 3 tablespoons of the liquid they were in (in the can). I then combined corn oil, apple cider vinegar, dried oregano, ancho chili powder, and honey. All of these ingredients were then blended thoroughly, poured into a bag I had already set the bag into, which I then put in the refrigerator.

So far so good.

Next step: roast onion, tomatillo, and tomato mixture, then set aside. Then de-stem and de-seed 6 dried pasilla peppers, roast, and set aside.

Now comes the difficult part: making the mole. Before I began the process, I had this feeling that mole isn't something easily translated into words, both hard to describe how to make and what it tastes like. I figured it would be one of this dishes that eludes me for some time, like a great paella, until finally, one day, after 10 or more average attempts, something just clicks and mole becomes my go-to dish. But you have to start somewhere with these things, right? I mean, if it took Rick Bayless 20 years I'd be happy to accomplish it in my lifetime.

First step: fry bananas? Then add sesame seeds and peanuts? Stir everything frequently until evenly browned? Ok . . . I feel like this is the mole's soul, its sofrito, and I feel a little out of sync with what it's exactly supposed to be like. I mean, I've never really tasted these three ingredients in mole before. Nevertheless, I cook until browned, then add the rest of the ingredients, not sure if I browned them enough, too much . . . who knows?

The next step is too add the rest of the ingredients: raisins, oregano, dried and roasted pasilla peppers, tomatillo mixture, chocolate, chicken stock . . . Let all of this come to a boil, then remove from heat.

Now, after coming to a boil, the mixture smells like mole although it doesn't look like it yet. I can already see that my mole isn't quite as dark as ones I've had before. But, I pressed on, pureeing the mole in batches in a food processor. I blended each batch for about 5 minutes, but the mole still did not look completely smooth or pureed. I think I should have strained it at this point, but the instructions didn't say to do so, and I didn't want to mess with the recipe the first time through. After pureeing all of the mole, I poured it back into the pan, and whisked it for about 5 minutes over medium heat, until it thickened slightly.

Within a half hour or so the pork was fully cooked and the mole ready to go . . . sante.

Recipe