
Chef Lupita
Aporreado Costeño Guerrerense
Guerrero's Costa Chica cooks dry their cattle into cecina, pound it to fibers on a stone, and stew it slow in chile costeño and epazote. The Afro-Mexican noon meal, built on lard, no eggs in this one.
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The everyday plate of the Costa Chica, the Afro-Mexican coast of Guerrero and Oaxaca: a whole lagoon mojarra fried until the skin cracks, fanned with caramelized plátano macho, white rice, and salsa de chile costeño.
Start on the Costa Chica, the stretch of Pacific coast that runs from southern Guerrero into western Oaxaca. Cuajinicuilapa on the Guerrero side. Pinotepa Nacional and the lagoons of Chacahua and Corralero on the Oaxaca side. This is the home of Mexico's tercera raíz, the African root that colonial Mexico planted on this coast and then spent four hundred years pretending it could not see. La tercera raíz no es nota al pie. Es plato principal. This fish plate is everyday food here, what a fishing family eats when the boats come in.
The mojarra comes out of the lagoon, most often tilapia these days, and it goes into the fat whole: scored, salted, fried until the skin cracks and the fins go crisp enough to eat. Next to it, two things that tell you exactly where you are. Plátano macho maduro, fried in manteca until the edges caramelize black-gold. Plain white arroz blanco. And the salsa is built on chile costeño, the small fruity chile of this coast and nowhere else. Name it. Do not call it 'a dried chile.' On the Costa Chica the chile has a name and the name is costeño.
The frying is the African inheritance on the plate. The same habit that fries plantain across the Caribbean and West Africa fries it here, in manteca, without apology. La manteca es el sabor. Get the technique right and the rest takes care of itself. Dry the fish until it is truly dry. Score it to the bone. Bring the fat up to heat before the fish goes in, then leave it alone and let it crisp. No me vengas con atajos. There is no shortcut to a crackling skin.
I learned this plate in a palm-roof palapa outside Chacahua, from a cook who fried mojarra over a wood fire all afternoon and slid each one onto a speckled peltre plate without once checking a clock. She knew by the sound. You will get there too. Cada estado, su propia cocina, and this coast guards its own.
The Costa Chica's Afro-Mexican communities descend from enslaved Africans brought to the Pacific coast during the colonial period to work cattle ranches and coastal estates, with towns like Cuajinicuilapa becoming centers of Afromestizo life. Recognition came late: the federal Nuestra Tercera Raíz project of the early 1990s began documenting this heritage, Oaxaca acknowledged its Afro-Mexican population in the state constitution in 2013 and Guerrero in 2014, but the group was not named in Article 2 of the federal Constitution until 2019, nor counted in the national census until 2020. The plate itself carries that history in its ingredients: plátano macho reached the Americas through the colonial Atlantic trade tied to African foodways, and the tilapia that fills the lagoons today is itself an African fish, introduced to Mexican waters for aquaculture in the 1960s.
Quantity
4 (about 1 pound each)
scaled and gutted
Quantity
3
juiced, plus lime halves to serve
Quantity
4 cloves
mashed to a paste
Quantity
2 teaspoons, plus more for finishing
Quantity
1/2 cup
for dusting
Quantity
3 to 4 cups
for frying the fish
Quantity
1 1/2 cups
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1/4
Quantity
1 clove
Quantity
3 cups
Quantity
1, whole
Quantity
1 1/2 teaspoons
Quantity
3
skins yellow to black
Quantity
1/4 cup
Quantity
8
stemmed
Quantity
3
Quantity
2 cloves
unpeeled
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon, or to taste
Quantity
1/4 cup
as needed for the salsa
Quantity
1/2
thinly sliced, to serve
Quantity
for serving
warmed
Quantity
for serving
sliced
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| whole mojarra or tilapiascaled and gutted | 4 (about 1 pound each) |
| limesjuiced, plus lime halves to serve | 3 |
| garlicmashed to a paste | 4 cloves |
| kosher salt | 2 teaspoons, plus more for finishing |
| all-purpose flour (optional)for dusting | 1/2 cup |
| manteca de cerdo or neutral oilfor frying the fish | 3 to 4 cups |
| long-grain white rice | 1 1/2 cups |
| manteca de cerdo (for the rice) | 2 tablespoons |
| white onion (for the rice) | 1/4 |
| garlic (for the rice) | 1 clove |
| hot water | 3 cups |
| serrano chile (optional) | 1, whole |
| kosher salt (for the rice) | 1 1/2 teaspoons |
| ripe plátano machoskins yellow to black | 3 |
| manteca de cerdo (for the plátanos) | 1/4 cup |
| chile costeño rojostemmed | 8 |
| Roma tomatoes (jitomate) | 3 |
| garlic (for the salsa)unpeeled | 2 cloves |
| kosher salt (for the salsa) | 1/2 teaspoon, or to taste |
| wateras needed for the salsa | 1/4 cup |
| white onion (optional)thinly sliced, to serve | 1/2 |
| hand-pressed corn tortillas (optional)warmed | for serving |
| cucumber and tomato (optional)sliced | for serving |
Scale and gut the mojarra if your pescadería has not, then rinse under cold water and pat them very dry, inside and out. Cut three diagonal slashes on each side, down to the bone. The scores let the heat reach the thick part of the fish so the flesh cooks through while the skin crisps. Dry fish is the whole game here. A wet fish steams instead of frying, it sticks to the pan, and it throws hot fat across your stove.
Mash the garlic with the salt into a rough paste and rub it into the slashes and the belly cavity. Squeeze the lime over both sides. Let the fish sit fifteen minutes while you start the rice. Just before frying, pat the surface dry one more time, and if you want extra crackle, dust each fish lightly with flour and shake off what does not cling. The coast does it both ways. Floured or bare, the rule does not change: dry fish, hot fat.
Rinse the rice in a few changes of cold water until the water runs nearly clear, then drain it well. Melt the manteca in a pot over medium heat, add the rice with the quarter onion and the garlic clove, and stir until the grains turn chalky white and smell toasted, about four minutes. Pour in the hot water, add the salt and the whole serrano, and bring to a boil. Cover, drop the heat to low, and cook eighteen minutes without lifting the lid. Pull it off the heat and let it rest, still covered, ten minutes. Fluff with a fork and discard the onion and serrano.
Heat a dry comal over medium. Toast the chiles costeños just until they turn fragrant and a shade darker, ten to fifteen seconds a side. Watch them every second. The costeño is thin and hot and it goes from toasted to burnt faster than you can turn around, and burnt chile is bitter chile. Pull them off. On the same comal, char the tomatoes and the unpeeled garlic until blackened in spots and soft. Peel the garlic. Grind everything in the molcajete with the salt and just enough water to loosen it into a coarse salsa. Taste for salt.
Peel the plátanos and slice them on a long bias, about half an inch thick. Melt the manteca in a skillet over medium heat. Fry the slices until the edges turn deep gold and caramelize, about two minutes a side. They should be soft inside and sticky-sweet at the edges. Drain on a rack or a plate. This is where you do not negotiate the fat. The plátano macho fries in manteca, never oil. La manteca es el sabor.
In a wide heavy skillet or cazuela, heat the manteca or oil to 350F, about an inch deep, until it shimmers and a wooden spoon handle sends up a steady stream of small bubbles. Lay one fish in at a time, away from you. Do not crowd the pan and do not move the fish. Let it fry undisturbed five to seven minutes, until the underside is deep golden and the fins have gone crisp, then turn it once with a wide spatula and fry the other side. Lift it out, let it drain on a rack, and salt it the moment it comes out of the fat. Fry the rest in batches, letting the fat come back to temperature between each one.
Lay each fish on a peltre platter with a mound of white rice and a fan of fried plátano beside it. Spoon the salsa de chile costeño over the fish or set it alongside in the molcajete. Add lime halves, sliced raw onion, and a stack of warm corn tortillas. Eat it right away, while the skin still cracks under your fork. Fried fish keeps for no one. Saber cocinar es saber vivir.
1 serving (about 680g)
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