How many months of good luck do you want in the new year? Try to eat that many before the bell is finished tolling. The scene looks like a surrealist painting where time and fruit collide.

The New Year’s Eve grapes ritual started in Spain, some time in the early 20th century. Legend has it that a clever bunch of vineyard owners found themselves drowning in surplus grapes. Instead of composting or wine-making, they turned to marketing: eat a grape for each stroke of the clock on New Year’s Eve, they proclaimed, and you’ll ensure good fortune for the twelve months to come. The idea caught fire faster than a dried-out Christmas tree.

When the custom crossed the Atlantic, it nestled into the Mexican spirit like carne asada fits into a taco. After all, Mexico is a place where traditions speak louder than words, where the past and present weave together. The twelve grapes became more than a custom— they turned into a hope, a wish, a small act of defiance against the uncertainties of life.

At 11:59, everyone’s ready, grapes in hand. The first bell rings out, and the mouths start moving, swallowing the months like they’re good luck charms for the soul. January goes down easy. March? A little sour. August sticks in someone’s throat, maybe predicting a heat wave or heartbreak. Loud coughing is heard on the October grape: we might have a comrade down. But by the twelfth stroke, the deed is done. When the new year arrives, shiny and full of question marks, the people of Mexico, Spain or anyone who is inclined to take on this vineyard challenge, welcome it with sticky fingers and hopeful hearts.

12-grape martini: A sophisticated celebration

Ingredients

• 12 green grapes
• 2 oz vodka
• 1 oz elderflower liqueur
• 1 oz Lillet Blanc
• ½ oz freshly squeezed lemon juice
• Ice cubes
• Toothpicks for garnish

Instructions

1. Thread 12 green grapes onto a cocktail skewer or toothpicks in groups of three or four, depending on the size. 
2. In a cocktail shaker, combine vodka, elderflower liqueur, Lillet Blanc and lemon juice. Fill the shaker with ice.
3. Shake vigorously for about 15-20 seconds to ensure everything is well chilled and combined.
4. Double strain the mixture into a chilled martini glass to achieve a smooth texture.
5. Place the skewered grapes over the rim of the glass or let them rest elegantly on the side as an edible decoration. For an extra aromatic touch, lightly express the oil from a lemon peel over the drink before garnishing. 

This cocktail works because it’s absurd, elegant and just the right amount of superstitious— like the New Year itself. You’ve got twelve grapes sitting smugly on the toothpicks, a nod to tradition, scarf them down with the 12 strokes of midnight, and enjoy your libation. 

Vodka and Lillet? Pure optimism in liquid form. Elderflower liqueur adds a whisper of floral je ne sais quoi: “What is elderflower? And why is it so good?” Lemon juice brings balance, reminding you that life is equal parts bitter and sweet. Sip slowly, toast the chaos and hope the 12 grapes do their job. Happy New Year! 

Stephen Randall has lived in Mexico since 2018 by way of Kentucky, and before that, Germany. He’s an enthusiastic amateur chef who takes inspiration from many different cuisines, with favorites including Mexican and Mediterranean. His recipes can also be found on YouTube.

The post Welcome 2025 with a 12-grape New Year’s Eve martini appeared first on Mexico News Daily

Dinner starts out innocent enough. Plates are passed, kids argue over who gets the biggest slice of ham, and someone inevitably complains that the stuffing tastes like wallpaper. Then Jed clears his throat, the kind of ominous sound that makes you wish you were anywhere else — like a dentist’s chair or a jury box.

“So,” he begins, swirling his drink with the self-importance of a man holding court. “Let’s talk about what’s really wrong with this country.”

Time doesn’t just stop; it hides under the table with the dog, waiting for the fallout. Mom gives me a look that says, Why didn’t you stop him? as though I, a mere mortal, could prevent Jed from being Jed. Dad sighs into his mashed potatoes. Cousin Becky instinctively reaches for the wine.

Then, like a miracle from the culinary heavens, someone brings out the Nochebuena salad. Its arrival is a party of oranges, apples, pineapple, and pecans, all glistening under a tangy-sweet citrus dressing. It’s a dish so colorful it could make a Crayola box blush.

“Try it before it wilts,” I say, and suddenly everyone has a new mission: fill their plates. Even Jed.

For one blissful moment, the only sound is the crunch of apples and the occasional appreciative grunt. Jed actually looks thoughtful, though it’s probably just the lime juice hitting his taste buds. No one says a word. It’s a truce forged in citrus and pecans.

By the time the salad’s gone, Jed’s back to conspiracies about how ancient Republicans actually built the pyramids. But we had a peaceful, somewhat actually healthy, Nochebuena salad, now it’s once more unto the breach.

Ensalada de Nochebuena (Christmas Eve Salad)

Ingredients

For the Salad:

• 3 medium apples (red or green), cored and thinly sliced
• 4 oranges, peeled and segmented
• 2 cups fresh pineapple, cubed
• 1/2 cup pecans, toasted and chopped
• 1/2 cup raisins

For the Dressing:

• 1/4 cup orange juice (freshly squeezed is best)
• 2 tablespoons lime juice
• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 1 tablespoon honey (or agave syrup)
• Pinch of salt

Instructions

1. Prepare the Ingredients:
   • Thinly slice the apples and toss them in a little lime juice to prevent browning.
   • Peel and segment the oranges, removing any seeds.
2. Assemble the Salad:
   • In a large bowl or platter, combine the apple slices, orange segments, and pineapple cubes.
   • Sprinkle the toasted pecans and raisins on top for added texture and flavor.
3. Make the Dressing:
   • In a small bowl, whisk together orange juice, lime juice, olive oil, honey, and a pinch of salt until well combined.
4. Dress the Salad:
   • Drizzle the dressing evenly over the salad just before serving. Toss gently to coat the fruit.

Tips:

• Toast the pecans lightly in a dry skillet for a nuttier, richer flavor.
• Add a sprinkle of cinnamon for some kick.
• Serve chilled for a refreshing holiday side dish or dessert.

Stephen Randall has lived in Mexico since 2018 by way of Kentucky, and before that, Germany. He’s an enthusiastic amateur chef who takes inspiration from many different cuisines, with favorites including Mexican and Mediterranean. His recipes can also be found on YouTube.

The post Celebrate Christmas Eve with a traditional Ensalada de Nochebuena appeared first on Mexico News Daily

The scene unfolded against a backdrop of “authentic” Irish kitsch that looked like it had been stolen from a Cracker Barrel clearance sale. It was surreal, chaotic, and — somehow — utterly brilliant. Holiday cheer, I realized, needs no translation; it barges in, shakes a tambourine, and demands your attention. I raised my glass to them, finished my pint, and handed over my coins, knowing that even though I had just arrived, Veracruz and I would get along very well.

In Veracruz, Mexico, Christmas doesn’t just arrive — it parades in on an adorned tree branch, singing at your doorstep. This is La Rama, a tradition as lively as it is heartwarming. For eight nights, from December 16 to 24, the streets of Veracruz come alive with a charming procession of song, light, and laughter. It’s a celebration where the simplest things — a branch, a song, a smile — become humble symbols for the holiday spirit.

Where did La Rama begin?

One of the most fascinating tales of La Rama begins in the early colonial period, when Spanish missionaries arrived in Veracruz with big dreams and bigger agendas. They needed a way to convince the locals that Christianity wasn’t all fire and brimstone, so they borrowed something familiar: the evergreen branch, already a symbol of life and renewal for indigenous people. It was a clever move, really — using the locals’ beliefs to make their own pitch.

In one instance, they enlisted the Nahua people to organize solemn processions. Picture it: singing, flower-laden branches, and offerings of food or small tokens, all while nodding to both saints and ancient gods. The rama would visit homes, its bearers accepting gifts in return for prayers and blessings. A spiritual quid pro quo.

But, as traditions tend to do, La Rama evolved. By the 19th century, the solemnity had been tossed out the window like stale bread. The songs became cheeky and playful, the processions louder and more festive. Entire neighborhoods in Veracruz turned the tradition into a contest — branches became elaborate art pieces, and singers tried to outshine each other with humor and charm. It was less about religion and more about community spirit, with just a pinch of rivalry.

And here we are today. La Rama still marches on, a testament to the adaptability of culture. What started as a tool for conversion became something far richer—a celebration of creativity, connection, and the simple joy of a well-decorated branch. Sometimes, traditions aren’t just kept alive; they thrive despite everything. By the 20th century, it had evolved into the lively neighborhood tradition we know today — a moving festival that combines faith, art, and just a bit of mischief.

If you were to wander through Veracruz during those festive nights, you’d see groups of children and adults carrying branches bedecked in everything from colored paper and tinsel to balloons and LED lights. The decoration styles can vary wildly, from rustic charm to what can only be described as a glitter explosion.

The singers — armed with guitars, tambourines, and voices brimming with enthusiasm — perform traditional verses as they go from house to house. The songs are simple but spirited, often calling out the residents to come and enjoy the display. A typical verse might praise the host’s generosity or humorously lament the lack of sweets on the previous stop. It’s a mix of caroling, storytelling, and gentle peer pressure wrapped in holiday cheer.

Verse 1:
“Hola buenas noches, ya estamos aquí
aquí está la rama que les prometí;
que les prometí venir a cantar,
pero mi aguinaldo me tienen que dar.”
(Hello, good evening, we are already here,
here is the branch I promised you;
I promised to come and sing,
but my gift you must give to me.)

Verse 2:
“Naranjas y limas,
limas y limones,
más linda es la virgen
que todas las flores.”
(Oranges and limes,
limes and lemons,
the Virgin is more beautiful
than all the flowers.)

Verse 3:
“En un portalito de cal y de arena,
nació Jesucristo
por la Noche Buena.”
(In a little stable of lime and sand,
Jesus Christ was born
on Christmas Eve.)

Verse 4:
“Yo no quiero vino,
ni quiero cerveza,
yo lo que quiero
es pasar a la mesa.”
(I don’t want wine,
nor do I want beer,
what I want
is to sit at the table.)

Verse 5:
“Zacatito verde lleno de rocío,
el que no se tape
se muere de frío.”
(Little green grass full of dew,
those who don’t cover themselves
will die of cold.)

Verse 6:
“A la media noche un gallo cantó,
y en su canto dijo,
ya Cristo nació.
Cristo nació,
por ser poderoso,
y ahora tenemos a un niño gracioso.”
(At midnight, a rooster crowed,
and in its song, it said,
Christ is already born.
Christ was born,
because He is mighty,
and now we have a gracious little boy.)

Verse 7:
“La calaca tiene un diente, tiene un diente,
y la muerte tiene dos.
Si no me dan mi aguinaldo, mi aguinaldo
ya la pagaran con Dios.”
(The skeleton has one tooth, has one tooth,
and death has two.
If you don’t give me my gift, my gift,
you’ll answer to God.)

Farewell (if given a gift):
“Ya se va la rama muy agradecida
porque en esta casa fue bien recibida.”
(The branch now departs, very grateful,
because in this house, it was well received.)

Farewell (if not given a gift):
“Ya se va la rama muy desconsolada
porque en esta casa no nos dieron nada.”
(The branch now departs, very disheartened,
because in this house, we were given nothing.)

Give them their gift, and they’ll leave grateful. Deny them, and the disheartened farewell will haunt your conscience like a ghost of Christmas past. Choose wisely; your ending depends on you. What do they receive? Similar to Halloween, the kids get candy, pocket change, or whatever the unsuspecting adults have on them. It’s not about the monetary value, though. It’s about connection, the joy of giving and receiving, and the sense that everyone — rich or poor, young or old — has something to share.

Stephen Randall has lived in Mexico since 2018 by way of Kentucky, and before that, Germany. He’s an enthusiastic amateur chef who takes inspiration from many different cuisines, with favorites including Mexican and Mediterranean.

The post La Rama: A Christmas tradition that marches through time appeared first on Mexico News Daily

By the time the 9th-century Roman cookbook “Apicius” rolled around, some genius had already figured out that roasting pork with apples wasn’t just a matter of convenience — it was delicious. Imagine an empire in decline finding comfort in this seasonal combo as the world crumbled around it. If civilization was going to burn, at least they’d have a full stomach.

Fast forward to the 18th century and Hannah Glasse, a no-nonsense Englishwoman with a quill and a cookbook. In her wildly popular “The Art of Cookery Made Plain and Easy”, Glasse recommends serving roast pork with “some good apple sauce.” By this point, apples had gone from incidental snack to indispensable sidekick.

Today, we still serve pork with apples because it works. It’s the kind of pairing that reminds us that life’s contrasts are where beauty lives. Sweet and savory, humble and elegant, old-fashioned and somehow always new. When you serve pork chops with apple chipotle purée, the pair is even newer. This recipe combines smoky, spicy chipotle with the sweetness of apples for a bold and flavorful dish. The Mexican elements elevate a classic pairing of pork and apples to a whole new sweet, spicy, porky level.

Pork chops with apple chipotle purée

Ingredients

For the pork chops

• 4 bone-in pork chops (about 1 inch thick)
• 2 tbsp olive oil
• 1 tsp smoked paprika
• 1 tsp ground cumin
• 1 tsp garlic powder
• Salt and black pepper to taste

For the apple chipotle purée

• 3 medium apples (Granny Smith or Honeycrisp), peeled, cored and chopped
• 1 chipotle pepper in adobo sauce (add more for extra heat)
• ¼ cup orange juice
• 1 tbsp honey (or agave syrup)
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• ¼ tsp ground cloves
• 1 tbsp butter
• Pinch of salt

For garnish

• Fresh cilantro, chopped
• Lime wedges

Instructions

1. In a small bowl, mix smoked paprika, cumin, garlic powder, salt and pepper. Rub the spice blend generously onto both sides of the pork chops.

2. Heat olive oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Sear the pork chops for about 3-4 minutes per side, until golden brown.
3. Reduce heat to medium, cover the skillet and cook for an additional 5-7 minutes, or until the internal temperature reaches 145 F (63 C). Remove from heat and let rest.
4. In a saucepan, melt butter over medium heat. Add the chopped apples and cook for 3-5 minutes, stirring occasionally.
5. Stir in the chipotle pepper, orange juice, honey, cinnamon, cloves and a pinch of salt. Cover and simmer for 10-15 minutes, until the apples are soft.
6. Transfer the mixture to a blender or use an immersion blender to purée until smooth. Adjust seasoning to taste, adding more chipotle if you want it spicier.
7. To assemble, spoon a generous amount of apple chipotle purée onto each plate. Place a pork chop on top of the purée.
8. Garnish with fresh cilantro and a squeeze of lime juice for brightness.

Serving suggestions

Pair this dish with Mexican rice, a side of charred corn with cotija cheese, or a crisp jicama and cucumber salad for a complete feast. Let me know what you think in the comments!

Stephen Randall has lived in Mexico since 2018 by way of Kentucky, and before that, Germany. He’s an enthusiastic amateur chef who takes inspiration from many different cuisines, with favorites including Mexican and Mediterranean.

The post Add a spark of Mexican joy to your good old pork chops with apple chipotle purée appeared first on Mexico News Daily

It all boils down to corn, the backbone of Tex-Mex cuisine. From tortillas to atole, corn has been the star ingredient in Mexican and Tex-Mex cooking for centuries. But fritters? That’s a Southern twist. The South had its own deep connection to corn — think cornbread, hushpuppies and grits — but what they brought to the table was a love of frying. Fry anything in hot oil, and you’ve got comfort food gold. If you can do it to Oreos, no food is safe from the Southern frying pan.

By the mid-20th century, as Tex-Mex cuisine gained traction beyond Texas cowboys, recipes for fritters started appearing in cookbooks, usually spiced up with chili powder, cumin or jalapeños for an extra kick. It wasn’t just about frying anymore; it was about packing every bite with a rodeo of flavor.

Tex-Mex corn fritters are a little more rebellious than their Southern cousins. They’re often loaded with sharp cheddar, green chilis or diced onions and served with dips that scream Southwest, like smoky chipotle crema or tangy chili-lime aioli. Restaurants along the border added them to menus as appetizers, the kind of thing you eat before a sizzling plate of fajitas or a margarita or two. Their versatility made them a hit— they could go sweet or savory, plain or piled high with toppings.

Now, corn fritters are a staple at backyard barbecues, food trucks and trendy brunch spots. They’ve become a canvas for experimentation, whether stuffed with queso fresco or served with a drizzle of hot honey. Tex-Mex corn fritters aren’t just a dish—they’re a celebration of the region’s melting pot of flavors, proof that even a humble fritter can still elevate a cuisine.

Corn Fritters with Chili-Lime Aioli

Ingredients

For the corn fritters

• 1 cup all-purpose flour
• ½ cup cornmeal
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1 tsp salt
• ½ tsp black pepper
• 1 tablespoon brown sugar
• 2 large eggs
• 1 ½ cups fresh corn kernels (or canned/drained, or frozen/thawed)
• 2 green onions, finely chopped (optional)
• ¼  cup shredded cheddar cheese (optional)
• 100g canned chipotles, finely chopped (adjust to your spice preference)
• Vegetable oil (for frying)

For the chili-lime aioli

• ½ cup mayonnaise
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 tsp chili powder
• 1 tsp lime zest
• 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
• ½ tsp hot sauce 
• Salt to taste

Instructions

Make the chili-lime aioli

1. In a small bowl, mix together mayonnaise, garlic, chili powder, lime zest, lime juice and hot sauce.
2. Taste and adjust salt as needed.
3. Cover and refrigerate until serving.

Make the corn fritters

1. In a large bowl, whisk together flour, cornmeal, baking powder, salt, black pepper, and brown sugar. In a separate bowl, beat eggs. Pour into dry ingredients and stir until combined. Fold in corn kernels, green onions, shredded cheese if using and chipotles.
2. Heat about ¼ inch of vegetable oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Test the oil by dropping in a small bit of batter— it should sizzle immediately.
3. Drop spoonfuls of batter, about 2 tbsp each, into the hot oil. Flatten slightly with the back of a spoon. Cook for 2-3 minutes per side, or until golden brown and crispy. Remove and drain on a plate lined with paper towels.
4. Arrange the fritters on a platter and serve hot with the chili-lime aioli for dipping.

Stephen Randall has lived in Mexico since 2018 by way of Kentucky, and before that, Germany. He’s an enthusiastic amateur chef who takes inspiration from many different cuisines, with favorites including Mexican and Mediterranean. He also runs the Recipe Rankers YouTube channel.

The post Try a Mexican spin on Southern comfort with these corn fritters and homemade aioli appeared first on Mexico News Daily

Here’s the funny thing: champurrado wasn’t born in some fancy palace with golden cups. Nope, it bubbled to life in clay pots, stirred by people who knew how to stretch a good thing. It was cacao and maize — two ingredients that literally built civilizations. The Olmecs started it, and the Maya ran with it, adding froth and some spiritual pizazz. By the time the Mexica got hold of it, they had turned the drink into an energy booster for warriors and a bribe for their gods. How’s that for multitasking?

Then came the Spaniards. They showed up, pointed at everything, and said, “Mine.”. They tried cacao and nearly spit it out — it was bitter, spicy, and definitely not the dessert they were expecting. So they added sugar, cinnamon, and enough sweetness to make it palatable for their European sensibilities. Thus, champurrado as we know it was baptized into the chaotic family of humanity.

But it didn’t stay in the hands of conquerors or kings. It slipped into the kitchens of everyday people, where its purpose was less about gods and gold and more about keeping you from freezing your butt off on a cold morning. They thickened it with masa harina, sweetened it with piloncillo, and stirred it into something that felt like home.

Today, champurrado isn’t just a drink. It’s a survivor. It’s a reminder that no matter how crazy things get, you can always simmer some cacao, whisk in a little corn, and sip your way to a moment of peace.

Champurrado Recipe

Champurrado is a traditional Mexican chocolate-based atole, perfect for chilly mornings or festive gatherings. Here’s a step-by-step recipe to make it.

Ingredients (Serves 4-6)

• 4 cups water
• 1 cinnamon stick
• 1 star anise (optional)
• 1 tablet (about 3.5 oz) Mexican chocolate (such as Abuelita), chopped
• 4 cups milk (or almond milk for a dairy-free option)
• 1/2 cup masa harina (corn flour)
• 1/2 cup piloncillo (or brown sugar)
• 1 teaspoon vanilla extract

Instructions

1. Simmer the Spices:
   • In a medium saucepan, bring 4 cups of water to a boil.
   • Add the cinnamon stick and star anise (if using). Simmer for 5 minutes to infuse the flavors.
2. Dissolve the Masa Harina:
   • In a small bowl, whisk the masa harina with 1 cup of milk until smooth, ensuring no lumps.
3. Combine Ingredients:
   • Remove the cinnamon stick and star anise from the water.
   • Slowly stir in the masa harina mixture into the saucepan. Continue stirring to prevent clumping.
   • Add the remaining milk, chopped chocolate, piloncillo (or brown sugar), and vanilla extract.
4. Cook and Stir:
   • Heat the mixture over medium heat, stirring constantly with a whisk or wooden spoon to avoid burning.
   • Cook until the champurrado thickens to your desired consistency (about 5-10 minutes). It should be creamy but pourable.
5. Taste and Adjust:
   • Taste the champurrado and adjust sweetness as needed by adding more piloncillo or sugar.
6. Serve Hot:
   • Pour the champurrado into mugs and serve immediately. Enjoy with pan dulce (Mexican sweet bread) or tamales.

Final Thoughts

Champurrado is what happens when chocolate and corn get together and decide to make a warm hug in a mug. Drink it warm, drink it thick, and don’t think too hard about why it makes you so happy. You’ve earned it. Or maybe you haven’t. Either way, it’s delicious.

Stephen Randall has lived in Mexico since 2018 by way of Kentucky, and before that, Germany. He’s an enthusiastic amateur chef who takes inspiration from many different cuisines, with favorites including Mexican and Mediterranean. He also runs the Recipe Rankers YouTube channel.

The post Warm your frozen heart with a hot morning champurrado appeared first on Mexico News Daily

First, let’s talk about the poblano pepper, the star of this dish. Roasting isn’t just for the pyromaniac in you. That charred skin? It’s the Maillard reaction in action, creating layers of smoky, yet sweet flavor. When you peel away the blackened exterior, what’s left is tender, aromatic perfection. It’s like unwrapping a present where you already know you’ll love what’s inside.

Next, corn. Whether it’s fresh, frozen, or (in a pinch) canned, this is your natural sweetener. Corn brings balance to the smoky poblano and the heat from the jalapeño. And here’s a pro tip: If you’re working with fresh corn, don’t toss those cobs! Simmer them in your broth for an extra hit of flavor — a little culinary hack to maximize every kernel of goodness.

The potatoes act as the backbone of the chowder. Starches released during cooking thicken the soup without needing extra flour or roux. It’s a seamless way to keep things gluten-free and satisfyingly creamy. Speaking of creamy, the heavy cream at the end isn’t just for indulgence; it’s a vital textural element that smooths out the spice and ties everything together.

But the spices — oh, the spices! Cumin, smoked paprika, chili powder:, the essence of Tex-Mex cuisine. They’re what take this chowder from “good” to “where has this been all my life?”

Garnishes are ultra-super-mega important for Tex-Mex food. In this case, tortilla strips and a squeeze of lime add crunch and acidity, and add some shredded cheese, because cheese is awesome.  And there you have it, a dish engineered for cold nights, where every element works together like a well-tuned machine.

Poblano corn chowder, step by step

Ingredients:

• 2 tbsp butter or olive oil
• 1 medium onion, diced
• 3 garlic cloves, minced
• 2 poblano peppers, roasted, peeled, and diced
• 1 jalapeño, minced (optional, for extra heat)
• 4 cups fresh or frozen corn kernels (about 6 ears of fresh corn)
• 2 medium potatoes, peeled and diced
• 4 cups chicken or vegetable broth
• 1 cup heavy cream (or substitute with coconut milk for a dairy-free option)
• 1 tsp ground cumin
• 1 tsp smoked paprika
• 1/2 tsp chili powder
• 1/4 tsp cayenne pepper (optional, for heat)
• Salt and black pepper, to taste
• 1 cup shredded cheddar cheese (optional)
• 1/2 cup chopped cilantro, for garnish
• 1 lime, cut into wedges
• Tortilla strips or crushed tortilla chips, for topping

Instructions:

1. Roast Poblanos:
   • Place poblano peppers directly over a flame (gas stovetop or grill) or under a broiler, turning frequently, until charred and blistered on all sides.
   • Transfer to a bowl, cover with plastic wrap or a lid, and let steam for 10 minutes. Peel off the skin, remove seeds, and dice.
2. Sauté Vegetables:
   • In a large pot, melt butter over medium heat. Add onions and cook until soft (3-4 minutes).
   • Stir in garlic, diced poblano, and jalapeño, cooking for another minute.
3. Add Corn and Potatoes:
   • Stir in corn and diced potatoes. Add cumin, smoked paprika, chili powder, and cayenne. Cook for 2 minutes, stirring to coat the vegetables in the spices.
4. Simmer:
   • Pour in the broth and bring to a boil. Reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 15-20 minutes, or until potatoes are tender.
5. Blend (Optional):
   • For a creamier texture, use an immersion blender to partially blend the soup, leaving some chunks for texture. Alternatively, transfer a portion of the soup to a blender, blend, and return to the pot.
6. Finish with Cream:
   • Stir in heavy cream and simmer gently for 5 minutes. Adjust seasoning with salt and black pepper.
7. Serve:
   • Ladle soup into bowls. Top with shredded cheese, cilantro, and tortilla strips. Squeeze a lime wedge over each serving for that Tex-Mex finish.

Let me know what you think in the comments!

Stephen Randall has lived in Mexico since 2018 by way of Kentucky, and before that, Germany. He’s an enthusiastic amateur chef who takes inspiration from many different cuisines, with favorites including Mexican and Mediterranean. He also runs the Recipe Rankers YouTube channel.

The post How to make the perfect poblano corn chowder from scratch appeared first on Mexico News Daily

The beach itself was raw and pristine, a stretch of sand bordered by a forest of pine trees, almost like nature’s barricade against civilization. No lifeguards, no umbrellas, just miles of sand and, walking to the beach, I noticed a solitary lighthouse, unsure if it was still active or just a picturesque relic. It didn’t flash or rotate; it simply stood there, like it had been forgotten, overseeing this beautiful beach without purpose or ceremony.

The campgrounds offered two choices: cabins or glamping tents. I’ve always thought “glamping” was an interesting term, a way to experience nature without actually roughing it, my eagle scout comrades would scoff at the very thought. But here, the glamping was just my style, canvas tents with an ocean view, not trying to impress anyone, but just focusing on the natural beauty of the place. The tent came with a basic mattress, a nice antique dresser, stepping out to an ocean view. Part of me wanted the cabin—four walls sounded comforting. But if I was here to be “off the grid,” I figured, I might as well embrace it. I took the tent. 

Night fell quickly in Los Pinos, as if someone flipped a switch. One minute the sun was setting, and the next, we were left with only stars. The friendly employees hauled over a wheelbarrow full of firewood, and were more than willing to help me start the fire. Mesmerizing campfire, check. Large ice cold lager, check. Sounds of the ocean just a baker’s dozen meters away, check.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of waves and sunlight streaming into the tent. The crabs were gone, back in their burrows or wherever it is crabs sleep. I strolled down the beach, breathing in the salty air and the stillness, feeling like I had the world to myself.

The best discovery of Los Pinos was their restaurant next to the cabins, selling shrimp empanadas. What I bit into was unreal — a crispy crust filled with fresh, succulent shrimp with perfectly spicy salsa in the style of “chile seco”. They were, hands down, the best shrimp empanadas I’ve ever had in my life. It was the kind of flavor that makes you rethink every other empanada you’ve ever eaten.

Afterward, I sat by the shore, letting the morning pass. There was nothing else to do, and that was exactly the point. I’d come to Los Pinos looking for an escape and found it in a quiet beach, a forgotten lighthouse, and a bunch of tiny crabs who let me share their world, if only for a little while.

Stephen Randall has lived in Mexico since 2018 by way of Kentucky, and before that, Germany. He’s an enthusiastic amateur chef who takes inspiration from many different cuisines, with favorites including Mexican and Mediterranean. His recipes can also be found on YouTube.

The post A night under the stars on the most pristine beach in Veracruz appeared first on Mexico News Daily

Here’s the trick: You take that leftover bird and glaze it with a mix of mezcal, honey, chipotle, and lime. Toss it in a skillet until it’s shimmering and coated, smoky and spicy, practically begging to be sandwiched.

Now, grab a toasted bolillo, and roll on some mayo on both sides. Stack on creamy avocado slices, juicy tomatoes, crisp lettuce, tangy pickled onions, and a hefty handful of shredded Oaxaca cheese. Pile on that glazed turkey, now transformed, and top it all with the other half of the roll.

Take a bite. Suddenly, it’s an explosion of flavors — smoky mezcal, sweet honey, spicy chipotle, tangy lime, and all those fresh toppings getting to know each other. This isn’t just a sandwich; it’s a bird’s redemption story.

Maybe you’ve got leftovers from your “practice turkey”, or maybe you’re reading this later just after Thanksgiving. Either way, where there’s leftover turkey, there’s hope. Hope in the shape of the great Mexican torta.

Mezcal glazed turkey torta recipe

Ingredients

For the mezcal glaze:

• 2 tbsp mezcal
• 2 tbsp honey
• 1 tbsp chipotle in adobo sauce, finely chopped
• 1 tbsp fresh lime juice
• 1 clove garlic, minced
• 1 tsp smoked paprika
• Salt and black pepper to taste

For the turkey:

• 1 lb cooked turkey breast, sliced (leftover turkey works great)
• 1 tbsp  butter (for reheating the turkey slices)

For the torta:

• 4 bolillo or telera rolls (or any sturdy sandwich roll)
• 4 tbsp mayonnaise
• 1 avocado, sliced
• 1 cup shredded lettuce
• 1 large tomato, sliced
• 1/2 cup pickled red onions
• 1 cup shredded Oaxaca cheese
• Fresh cilantro leaves (optional, for garnish)

Instructions

1. Make the mezcal glaze:

• In a small bowl, whisk together mezcal, honey, chipotle in adobo, lime juice, minced garlic, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper until well combined.
• Set aside.

2. Prepare the turkey:

• Heat a skillet over medium heat and add butter.
• Add the sliced turkey and cook until warmed through, about 2 minutes.
• Pour the mezcal glaze over the turkey slices in the skillet, tossing to coat the turkey in the glaze.
• Let the turkey simmer in the glaze for 2-3 minutes, or until the glaze thickens slightly and coats the meat. Remove from heat.

3. Assemble the tortas:

• Slice each roll in half. Toast the cut sides lightly if desired.
• Spread a bit of mayonnaise on each half of each roll.
• Layer avocado slices, then add the glazed turkey.
• Add shredded lettuce, tomato slices, and pickled red onions.
• Throw on some shredded Oaxaca cheese over the fillings.

• Garnish with fresh cilantro leaves if desired.
• Place the top half of the rollover of the fillings and press gently.

4. Serve:

• Serve the tortas warm, with a side of lime wedges for extra brightness.

Notes for a successful mezcal glazed turkey torta

• Oaxaca cheese provides a melty, creamy texture that complements the smoky and spicy flavors. You can melt it slightly if you prefer.
• For an extra kick, spread a little extra chipotle sauce on the bread.

Enjoy your delicious mezcal glazed turkey torta with Oaxaca cheese and tomato for a perfect blend of rich, tangy, and smoky flavors! Let me know what you think in the comments!

Stephen Randall has lived in Mexico since 2018 by way of Kentucky, and before that, Germany. He’s an enthusiastic amateur chef who takes inspiration from many different cuisines, with favorites including Mexican and Mediterranean. His recipes can also be found on YouTube.

The post Spice up your sandwich game: Mezcal glazed turkey torta recipe appeared first on Mexico News Daily

But lately, the stars had been acting strange. Lights zigzagged across the sky, flickering like the world’s strangest torch procession. He figured the heavens were simply acknowledging him, their chosen leader. As he sipped his drink that night, he noticed a low hum filling the courtyard. Then, a figure appeared — a shimmering, shifting shape, eyes with as many points as the night sky.

“Dragon,” the figure said, its voice somehow echoing and whispering at once. “We have come to judge you.” The Olmec Dragon wasn’t easily rattled. He tightened his grip on the cup and raised his chin. “Judge me? I am the Olmec Dragon, the god-king of these lands. Who are you to judge me?”

The figure tilted its head, almost amused. “Oh, Dragon. We are the ones who gave you this drink — the brew of cacao and chili. Each sip was meant to prepare you to lift your people, to bring them closer to the stars.” It sighed. “And yet, you kept it for yourself.”

The Olmec Dragon blinked, suddenly feeling small. He looked down at his cup, which now seemed heavier, colder. “I thought… it was mine to drink.” The figure’s eyes softened. “No, Dragon. It was meant to be shared, to guide your people. Now, they will find their own way.”

The Olmec Dragon felt himself lift from his throne, weightless. He looked down one last time at his people, moving below like tiny insects, unaware their god-king was leaving. He drifted into the night sky, just another flicker of starlight. In the end, his people would ascend without him  — just as the gods intended.

Chili Chocolate Martini Recipe

Ingredients:

• 1 oz dark chocolate liqueur
• 1 oz vodka
• 1 oz cream (or half-and-half for a lighter version)
• ½ oz chili liqueur (or a pinch of cayenne pepper if chili liqueur is unavailable)
• ½ oz simple syrup (optional, for added sweetness)
• Ice cubes
• Cocoa powder or grated chocolate, for garnish
• Fresh chili slice or twist of orange peel, for garnish (optional)

Instructions:

1. Prepare your glass: Chill a martini glass by filling it with ice water while you prepare the drink. Alternatively, place the glass in the freezer for a few minutes.
2. Mix the drink: In a cocktail shaker, add ice cubes, chocolate liqueur, vodka, cream, chili liqueur (or cayenne pepper), and simple syrup.
3. Shake it up: Shake vigorously for 15-20 seconds until well mixed and cold.
4. Serve: Empty the chilled martini glass of any ice water, then strain the drink into the glass.
5. Garnish: Lightly dust with cocoa powder or grated chocolate on top. Optionally, add a thin slice of fresh chili or a twist of orange peel for extra flair and aroma.
6. Enjoy: Sip slowly and enjoy the balance of chocolate sweetness with the gentle heat from the chili!

Tips:

• Adjust heat: If you like it spicier, add a bit more chili liqueur or a small pinch of cayenne.
• Extra chocolatey: Drizzle chocolate syrup around the inside of the glass before pouring in the drink for a more decadent chili chocolate martini.

Cheers to an out of this world (wink), spicy, chocolatey treat!

Stephen Randall has lived in Mexico since 2018 by way of Kentucky, and before that, Germany. He’s an enthusiastic amateur chef who takes inspiration from many different cuisines, with favorites including Mexican and Mediterranean. His recipes can also be found on YouTube.

The post A chili chocolate martini fit for an ancient Olmec god appeared first on Mexico News Daily