
Chef Lupita
Alegrías de Amaranto
Oaxaca's pre-Columbian amaranth bar, popped on a hot comal and bound with piloncillo, honey, and the sacred Zapotec grain that the Spanish tried, and failed, to outlaw.
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Oaxaca's Day of the Dead sugar figures, Spanish-Moorish sugar paste molded into lambs, calaveras, and miniature fruits to dress the ofrenda. Edible ancestors, named in royal icing, set out for the souls who come home in November.
Alfeñique is from Oaxaca. The whole country sets out sugar skulls in late October, but the alfeñique tradition, the molded white paste figures of lambs and calaveras and tiny fruits, is rooted in Oaxaca and the central highlands, where Spanish-Moorish sugar craft met the indigenous tradition of building offerings for the dead.
The word alfeñique comes from the Arabic 'al-fanid,' a sugar paste the Moors brought to Spain and the Spanish brought to Mexico in the 16th century. The colonial convents of Puebla and Oaxaca were where this paste became something else: the nuns adapted it, the indigenous cooks added their own knowledge, and by the 18th century the molded sugar figure was inseparable from the Day of the Dead ofrenda. This is not a costume prop. It is not a Halloween candy. The alfeñique is an offering, food for the dead made by the living, eaten only after the souls have visited.
The figures themselves carry meaning. Lambs for the children. Calaveras with names piped across the forehead in royal icing for specific dead, an aunt, a grandfather, a friend. Miniature fruits and animals for the souls who come hungry. In the Jardin Sócrates in Oaxaca's Centro Historico, the alfeñiqueras work for months before the holiday, and the families who come to buy know exactly which figure belongs to which ancestor. My mother kept a small calavera with my abuela's name on it on the family ofrenda every year. It came down from the altar on November 3 and we ate it slowly, over a week. That is how this works. The dead come, the dead go, the living remember by eating the sugar that bore their name. Cada estado, su propia cocina, and Oaxaca's kitchen makes the figures that hold the dead in place.
The alfeñique tradition arrived in Mexico through Spanish convents in the 16th century, descending from the Arabic 'al-fanid,' a pulled sugar paste documented in Andalusian cookbooks of the 13th century. In colonial Mexico the technique fused with the pre-Columbian Mexica practice of building offerings for the dead from amaranth and honey, producing the molded sugar figures still made today across Oaxaca, Puebla, Toluca, and Guanajuato. Toluca's Feria del Alfeñique, held annually since 1630 in the Estado de Mexico, remains the largest sugar-figure market in the country, but the Oaxacan tradition is distinguished by its use of grana cochinilla, the cochineal dye that made the colonial Oaxacan economy and that still tints the lambs and watermelons on Oaxacan ofrendas with a red no synthetic color can match.
Quantity
2 pounds (1 kilo)
Quantity
1 cup (240 ml)
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
2
room temperature
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
4 cups (about 500 g)
sifted, plus more for dusting
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
as needed
cochineal red (grana cochinilla), turmeric yellow, indigo blue, beet pink
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
as needed
for dusting molds
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| granulated cane sugar | 2 pounds (1 kilo) |
| cold water | 1 cup (240 ml) |
| fresh lime juice | 2 tablespoons |
| glucose or light corn syrup | 1 tablespoon |
| large egg whitesroom temperature | 2 |
| cream of tartar | 1/2 teaspoon |
| powdered sugarsifted, plus more for dusting | 4 cups (about 500 g) |
| fine sea salt | 1/2 teaspoon |
| natural food coloring pastescochineal red (grana cochinilla), turmeric yellow, indigo blue, beet pink | as needed |
| vanilla extract from Papantla | 1 teaspoon |
| cornstarchfor dusting molds | as needed |
Pull out your clay or wooden alfeñique molds. Lambs, calaveras, miniature fruits, little baskets. The traditional ones are carved from wood or cast in clay and have been used for generations in Oaxacan families. Brush the inside of each mold with cornstarch and tap out the excess. The cornstarch is what lets the sugar release clean. Skip it and you will pry your calavera out in pieces.
Combine the granulated sugar, water, lime juice, and glucose in a heavy saucepan. Stir gently with a wooden spoon until the sugar is wet through. Set over medium heat. Do not stir again once it begins to simmer. Let it cook to 240 degrees F (115 C), the soft-ball stage, about 12 to 15 minutes. The lime juice keeps the sugar from crystallizing back. The glucose does the same work. Without one or both, the paste turns grainy and you start over.
While the sugar cooks, place the egg whites and cream of tartar in the bowl of a stand mixer. Whip on medium until they hold soft peaks. The convent recipes from Puebla and Oaxaca all call for egg whites. They are what makes alfeñique alfeñique and not just sugar candy. The whites give the paste its bone-white color and the strength to hold a shape.
When the syrup hits 240 F, take it off the heat at once. With the mixer running on medium, pour the hot syrup down the side of the bowl in a slow, steady stream. Do not pour onto the whisk. Once the syrup is in, raise the speed to medium-high and whip until the bowl feels barely warm to the touch, about 8 to 10 minutes. The meringue should be glossy, thick, and hold a stiff peak that curls slightly at the tip.
Reduce the mixer to low. Add the salt, the vanilla, and the powdered sugar one cup at a time, letting each cup fully incorporate before adding the next. The paste will go from glossy meringue to thick frosting to a heavy, putty-like dough. When it pulls away from the sides of the bowl and a finger pressed into it leaves a clean print, it is ready. La cocina no es decoracion, es trabajo. This is the moment the meringue becomes pasta de alfeñique.
Turn the paste onto a clean work surface dusted with powdered sugar. Knead it for two minutes, like bread dough, until smooth. Divide into portions: a large piece kept white for lambs and calaveras, smaller pieces for the miniature fruits. Knead a tiny amount of cochineal paste into one piece for red apples and pink lambs' ears, turmeric into another for yellow lemons and pears, indigo for blue accents, beet pink for watermelon and roses. Cochineal is the traditional color in Oaxaca. It comes from the cochinilla insect raised on nopal cactus and Oaxaca was the colonial empire's most important supplier of it. Use the real thing if you can find it.
Take a piece of paste the size of a walnut. Press it firmly into a prepared mold, filling every detail of the carving. Scrape the back flat with a knife or a flat scraper so the figure has a level base. Tap the mold gently against the table and turn it out onto a piece of parchment. The figure should release with all its details intact: the lamb's curls, the calavera's teeth, the leaf on the apple. If it sticks, your mold needed more cornstarch. Asi se hace y punto.
Set the figures on parchment-lined trays in a single layer. Let them air dry uncovered for at least 24 hours, ideally 48, in a cool dry place. The outside hardens into a smooth shell while the inside stays slightly soft. This is the texture that defines a real alfeñique: it crunches and then yields. A figure dried for only an hour is sticky inside and collapses on the ofrenda.
Once the figures are firm, decorate them. Whisk a small batch of royal icing from one egg white, two cups of powdered sugar, and a few drops of lime juice. Tint portions with the natural colorings. Pipe the eyes, hearts, and flowers of the calaveras. Pipe the names of the dead across their foreheads. This is the most important step and not a decorative one. The figures with names are the ones that go on the ofrenda for specific people. The blank ones are for the souls you do not yet know are coming.
Arrange the alfeñiques on the second or third tier of the ofrenda among the marigolds, copal incense, and pan de muerto. They are not decoration. They are food for the dead, edible offerings the souls consume in spirit during the visit on November 1 and 2. After the dead have come and gone, the living eat them. Saber cocinar es saber vivir, and on Dia de Muertos, saber cocinar es saber recordar.
1 serving (about 50g)
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