Pepita con Tasajo de Chiapa de Corzo

Chiapas, Chiapa de Corzo, in the Depresion Central beside the Grijalva River: that is where pepita con tasajo stands. During Fiesta Grande in January, when the Parachicos fill the streets, this is not a casual beef dish. It is comida grande, food for devotion, family, and the kind of table where the cazuela arrives before anyone sits.

The sauce belongs to the south: pepita de calabaza, achiote, toasted rice, a little chile ancho for color and dried-fruit depth, all ground until thick enough to hold to the tasajo. It is not hot. People who think every Mexican dish should burn are telling you they have not eaten enough Mexico. This is a 32-state cuisine.

In Chiapa de Corzo, the women who make this well know the fire better than the clock. Pepita burns fast. Rice thickens fast. Manteca carries the flavor and keeps the sauce generous. My mother did not cook this dish, she was from Jalisco, but in my notebook from Chiapa de Corzo I wrote exactly what a señora near the plaza told me: keep the fire low after the pepita goes in, because the sauce can split before you finish your sentence. La cocina no es decoración, es trabajo.