A chronicle of my life in recipes. I love to cook, but more importantly I love to eat. The food you cook and eat tells a story of where you were raised and the path you have traveled. This is my story . . .

Wednesday, August 5, 2009


po·so·le or po·zo·le (pe zol, ee)n. A stew or soup made with posole, pork, chili, and other seasonings.
Imagine . . . 98 degrees and humidity that could curl Asian hair . . . and my husband and I order a bowl of piping hot soup. Surprisingly,(she states with heavy sarcasm) the waitress misunderstands our request and delivers not one, but two bowls to our table. We politely accept the mistake, never imagining that we would devour them both in record time. Sweat beading on our lips and running quickly down his brow, we ate both bowls without a second thought.
The plastic bowl filled with a dark red broth, bits of chicken and pork that melt in your mouth, corn puffed and slightly chewy, was the perfect balance of flavor and texture in your mouth. But wait! There's more . . . the bowl was accompanied by a plate filled with lettuce, chopped radish and avocado on the half shell as a garnish.
The creaminess and crunchiness factor was over the top!
Were we sitting at a cloth covered table in a five diamond restaurant? No, we were seated on plastic chairs, using paper napkins, al fresco at the Mercado 28 in Cancun, Mexico. YUM! We even went back later the next week for one more bowl of perfectness before heading home to the good old US of A. (Which Cam, I believe, was the happiest of all three kiddos to be rid of the interesting smells throughout Mexico, that they all would mention every time we left the hotel. Notice his picture in the slide show at the Mercado. "Man cannot live by water and I phone alone", but he certainly gave it a try.)
Minus the language barrier, I would have asked for the recipe from our more than gracious waitress and I am certain she would have obliged. Shockingly, a small town in Indiana did not produce a confident Spanish speaking Traci, so NO RECIPE. Not to mix cultures again, but ahh . . . c'est la vie, I would use the Spanish expression if I knew it, but I will have rely on the internet and test some posole recipes of my own as soon as this Dallas weather breaks. Look for updates in the fall. I am willing to test as many as it takes and post the best here.
Meanwhile enjoy this picture and a lovely video I took of the mariachi performing for the rowdy table seated behind us. A slide show of our trip can be viewed in the left margin.