
Chef Lupita
Almendrado Oaxaqueño con Pollo
Oaxaca's eighth mole, the silky, almond-and-cinnamon almendrado, served over poached chicken. Mild, sweet, restrained, and a quiet rebuttal to anyone who thinks Mexican food has to be hot to be Mexican.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
A Oaxacan cazuela layered with mole negro, shredded chicken, pasilla oaxaqueño rajas, and pulled quesillo, baked until the top melts into a deep golden crust and the mole soaks every tortilla through.
This is a Oaxacan dish. The pastel azteca exists in versions across Mexico, mostly with salsa verde and crema in the central states, but when you build it with mole negro, pasilla oaxaqueño, and quesillo, you are cooking from the Valles Centrales and the recipe answers to Oaxaca, not to anyone else.
The mole is the work. Either you make it from scratch over two days with chilhuacle negro, mulato, pasilla oaxaqueño, chocolate, plantain, burnt tortilla, and a list of spices that runs past thirty, or you buy a serious paste from a Oaxacan producer and rehydrate it properly with good broth. What you do not do is open a jar of something labeled mole at the supermarket and pretend it counts. A bad mole will make a bad pastel azteca and there is no rescuing it with cheese.
The pasilla oaxaqueño is the chile that decides whether you have made the Oaxacan version or just a casserole with mole on top. It is smoke-dried over wood in the Sierra Mixe and it carries a flavor that no other chile in Mexico can replace. The quesillo is the second decision. Real Oaxacan string cheese, pulled into long strands by hand, melts into ribbons that hold the layers together. Low-moisture mozzarella is a compromise, not an upgrade.
My mother did not cook Oaxacan food. She was from Jalisco. But I learned this dish from a senora in Tlacolula who fed me lunch one Sunday after market day, the cazuela still warm on her table, the mole around the edges blackened where it had touched the clay. She told me the trick was to let the tortillas drink the mole before the oven dried them out. Saber cocinar es saber vivir.
The pastel azteca emerged in the mid-20th century as a domestic Mexican adaptation of layered casseroles, drawing on the older indigenous tradition of stacked tortilla dishes such as chilaquiles and budín de tortilla, both descended from pre-Columbian methods of using day-old tortillas with sauces and meat. The Oaxacan variant, built with mole negro and quesillo, reflects the state's two most defining ingredients: the seven moles codified in the 20th century as a regional identity marker, and the quesillo developed in Reyes Etla in the 1880s by Leobarda Castellanos García, who is credited with adapting Italian pasta filata cheese-making techniques after milk supply problems forced experimentation. The dish belongs to a Oaxacan home-cooking tradition rather than the formal seven-mole canon, but it preserves the same regional ingredients in a format meant for family tables, not banquet halls.
Quantity
3 cups
homemade or from a reputable Oaxacan paste rehydrated with broth
Quantity
2 cups, plus more as needed
Quantity
3 pounds
Quantity
1 medium
halved
Quantity
1
halved crosswise
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 tablespoon, plus more to taste
Quantity
20 to 24
preferably hand-pressed from nixtamal masa
Quantity
1/2 cup
for frying tortillas
Quantity
6
stemmed, seeded, and torn into wide strips
Quantity
1
sliced into thin half-moons
Quantity
12 ounces
pulled apart into thin strands
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| prepared mole negro oaxaqueñohomemade or from a reputable Oaxacan paste rehydrated with broth | 3 cups |
| chicken broth | 2 cups, plus more as needed |
| bone-in chicken thighs and breasts | 3 pounds |
| white onionhalved | 1 medium |
| head of garlichalved crosswise | 1 |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| kosher salt | 1 tablespoon, plus more to taste |
| day-old corn tortillas (6-inch)preferably hand-pressed from nixtamal masa | 20 to 24 |
| manteca de cerdo (pork lard)for frying tortillas | 1/2 cup |
| dried chile pasilla oaxaqueñostemmed, seeded, and torn into wide strips | 6 |
| large white onionsliced into thin half-moons | 1 |
| quesillo (Oaxacan string cheese)pulled apart into thin strands | 12 ounces |
| Mexican crema | 1/2 cup |
| toasted sesame seeds | 2 tablespoons |
| thinly sliced raw white onion (optional) | 1/2 cup |
| fresh epazote leaves (optional) | for serving |
| pickled chiles en escabeche (optional) | for serving |
Place the chicken in a large pot with the halved onion, halved garlic, bay leaves, and salt. Cover with cold water by an inch. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat and skim the gray foam that rises in the first ten minutes. Cook at a lazy bubble for about 30 minutes, until the meat pulls easily from the bone. Lift the chicken out, let it rest until cool enough to handle, and shred it into long, generous pieces. Strain the broth and reserve. You will use it to loosen the mole.
In a heavy cazuela or wide pot, warm the mole negro over medium-low heat. Stir in the reserved chicken broth a half cup at a time until the mole is the consistency of heavy cream: thick enough to coat a tortilla, loose enough to soak into the layers as the casserole bakes. Taste for salt. A good mole negro should taste of toasted chilhuacle, burnt tortilla, chocolate, and spice all at once. If it tastes flat, it needs salt. If it tastes raw, simmer another ten minutes.
Heat a dry comal over medium. Toast the torn pasilla oaxaqueño strips for about 15 seconds per side, just until the kitchen smells smoky and the chile turns pliable. This is the chile that defines the dish. The pasilla oaxaqueño is smoke-dried over wood in the Sierra Mixe and it is not interchangeable with the central Mexican pasilla. If your chile vendor does not know the difference, find a different vendor.
In a skillet, melt 2 tablespoons of the lard over medium heat. Add the sliced onion and a pinch of salt. Cook until the onion turns soft and the edges color, about 8 minutes. Add the toasted pasilla strips and cook for 2 minutes more, just to marry the flavors. Set aside.
In a small skillet, heat the remaining lard over medium heat until it shimmers. Pass each tortilla through the hot lard for about 5 seconds per side. They should soften and turn pliable, never crisp. Stack them on a plate as you go. This is not frying. This is the step that lets the tortilla drink the mole without falling apart. Skip it and your pastel azteca will collapse into a puddle. La manteca es el sabor.
Heat the oven to 375°F. Spread a thin ladle of mole across the bottom of a 9 by 13 inch baking dish or a wide clay cazuela. Lay down a single layer of softened tortillas, overlapping them so the bottom is fully covered. Spoon a generous layer of mole over the tortillas, then half the shredded chicken, then half the onion-and-pasilla mixture, then a third of the quesillo. Repeat: tortillas, mole, chicken, onion-pasilla, quesillo. Finish with a final layer of tortillas, the last of the mole spread evenly to the edges, and the remaining quesillo blanketing the top.
Cover the dish loosely with foil and bake for 25 minutes. Remove the foil and bake another 15 to 20 minutes, until the quesillo on top has melted into a deep golden crust with dark spots where the cheese caught the heat. The mole around the edges should bubble slowly and pull away from the sides of the dish. Let the pastel rest for 10 minutes before cutting. If you cut it the moment it comes out of the oven, the layers slide. Patience is part of the recipe. No me vengas con atajos.
Drizzle the crema over the top in loose ribbons. Scatter the toasted sesame seeds and a few fresh epazote leaves across the surface. Serve squares straight from the cazuela onto warm plates, with raw white onion and pickled chiles en escabeche on the table. This is comida de cazuela: family-style, generous, eaten where it was cooked. Asi se hace y punto.
1 serving (about 375g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Lupita
Oaxaca's eighth mole, the silky, almond-and-cinnamon almendrado, served over poached chicken. Mild, sweet, restrained, and a quiet rebuttal to anyone who thinks Mexican food has to be hot to be Mexican.

Chef Lupita
Oaxaca's everyday rice, fried in lard and steamed with chepil, the wild legume herb that grows in the Sierra and shows up in the markets only when the rains come.

Chef Lupita
Oaxaca's Sunday barbacoa from the Tlacolula valley, goat rubbed in chilhuacle and guajillo, wrapped in maguey leaves, and slow-cooked for eight hours over a pot of garbanzos and rice that becomes the consome.

Chef Lupita
Oaxaca's everyday squash stew, calabacita and sweet corn cooked down with tomato and epazote, finished with quesillo melted into the pot in long stringy ribbons. The weeknight dinner of the Valles Centrales.