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Atole de Espuma Zapoteco

Atole de Espuma Zapoteco

Created by Chef Lupita

The Zapotec wedding atole of Oaxaca's Valles Centrales, hot corn beneath a cold cloud of fermented pataxte cacao and toasted wheat, whipped by hand with a molinillo until the foam stands high above the rim of the jicara.

Beverages
Mexican
Special Occasion
Celebration
Holiday
1 hr
Active Time
45 min cook1 hr 45 min total
Yield8 to 10 servings

This is from Oaxaca. Not from the city, from the Valles Centrales, the towns around Tlacolula and Mitla and Teotitlan del Valle, where the Zapotec communities serve this atole at weddings, baptisms, and the funerals of people who mattered. It is not a daily atole. It is a ceremonial one, and the women who make it are specialists. In Tlacolula they are called las espumeras and they are hired the way you would hire a musician.

The defining ingredient is pataxte, Theobroma bicolor, the white-fleshed cousin of cacao that grows in the same forests in southern Oaxaca and Chiapas but produces a different kind of foam, drier, more stable, less sweet. Pataxte is what makes the espuma stand up cold over hot atole for an hour without collapsing. If you cannot find pataxte, you will use criollo cacao nibs and the foam will be good. It will not be the wedding foam. I want you to know the difference.

The other secret is the cocoyul, a small white root from the corozo palm that releases natural saponins when blended. The Zapotec espumeras have been using it for centuries. Without it, the foam needs something to grab onto, and the modern shortcut is the soft pith of fresh coconut, which gives you a similar slip. The toasted wheat carries the color and the bread-like depth that distinguishes the wedding version from a plain corn atole.

My mother never made this. She was from Jalisco and her atole was a daily one, simple, white, with cinnamon. The first time I tasted atole de espuma I was twenty-nine years old and a senora named Maria Luisa was whipping the foam in a copper bowl in her kitchen in Tlacolula. She let me try the molinillo. My foam barely rose. She laughed and took it back. It took her four minutes. Mine had taken twenty. Saber cocinar es saber vivir, and some kinds of knowing live only in the wrists of the women who carry them.

Ingredients

white maiz criollo

Quantity

1 cup

nixtamalized (or 1 cup masa harina from a Oaxacan mill)

water

Quantity

8 cups

divided

fresh pataxte beans (Theobroma bicolor)

Quantity

1/2 cup

or substitute roasted unsweetened cacao nibs of the criollo variety

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