
Chef Lupita
Caldo de Mariscos Campechano
Campeche's chunky seafood chowder from the Gulf coast, built on toasted shrimp shells, charred tomato, recado rojo, and epazote, served family-style from a clay cazuela with lima agria and warm tortillas.
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Yucatán's Sunday puchero of three meats, root vegetables, and ripe plantain, perfumed with saffron, hierbabuena, and canela. The slow Sunday pot of Mérida courtyard kitchens, finished at the table with salpicón and naranja agria.
Puchero is the Sunday dish of Yucatán. Specifically of Mérida, where the courtyards of the casonas in Centro fill with the smell of saffron and hierbabuena every weekend, and where the señoras have been running the same pot since before the henequen boom collapsed. This is not the Spanish puchero of Madrid. It is not the Argentine puchero of Buenos Aires. This is the peninsular version, marked by ripe plantain, sweet potato, chayote, saffron, and the citrus brightness of naranja agria at the table.
Three meats. Beef shank, pork ribs, chicken. They go in by cooking time, not at once. Beef first because it takes the longest. Pork in the middle. Chicken last because it falls apart if you forget about it. The same logic governs the vegetables. Chayote and sweet potato early. Cabbage, corn, and plantain later. Yucatecan cooks do not throw everything into the pot at the same moment and pray. They build the puchero in stages, the way a careful hand builds anything that matters.
The defining ingredients are the ones outsiders skip. Hierbabuena, not parsley. Saffron bloomed in broth, not dropped in dry. Ripe yellow plantain with black spots, not green. Xkatik chile charred on the comal. Naranja agria squeezed over the bowl at the table. Leave any of these out and you have a generic stew. Put them all in and you have a dish that any señora in Mérida or Valladolid would recognize as her own.
My mother was from Jalisco and she did not make puchero yucateco. I learned this dish in a courtyard in Mérida from a woman named Doña Esperanza who ran a fonda out of her front room and who would not let me leave until I could tell her, without looking, which herb was hierbabuena and which was epazote. She wrote her recipe on the back of a paper bag from the mercado Lucas de Gálvez. I still have it. Saber cocinar es saber vivir.
Puchero arrived in the Yucatán Peninsula with Spanish colonists in the 16th century, descended from the Iberian olla podrida tradition of one-pot meals built around multiple meats and seasonal vegetables. The peninsular version absorbed Maya ingredients (chayote, sweet potato, fresh corn) and African-introduced plantain to produce a hybrid dish that bears almost no resemblance to its European ancestor. Saffron, an expensive Spanish import historically reserved for elite households, became the marker of Yucatecan puchero in the 19th-century henequen era, when the peninsula's plantation wealth made luxury spices accessible to a broader merchant class in Mérida, and the practice persisted even after the henequen economy collapsed in the mid-20th century.
Quantity
2 pounds
cut into 2-inch sections
Quantity
1 1/2 pounds
cut into individual ribs
Quantity
1 (about 3 1/2 pounds)
cut into 8 pieces
Quantity
1 medium
halved
Quantity
1
halved crosswise
Quantity
2
halved
Quantity
1 small bunch (about 8 sprigs)
Quantity
1 small bunch
tied with kitchen twine
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
4
Quantity
1 stick (about 2 inches)
Quantity
1 generous pinch (about 1/2 teaspoon)
Quantity
2 tablespoons, plus more to taste
Quantity
2
peeled and quartered
Quantity
1
cut into 6 wedges through the core
Quantity
2
peeled and cut into 2-inch lengths
Quantity
2 medium
peeled and cut into thick rounds
Quantity
2
peeled and cut into 2-inch sections
Quantity
2 ears
husked and cut into thirds
Quantity
2
charred on a comal (or substitute fresh chile guero)
Quantity
1 medium
finely diced, for salpicón
Quantity
1 bunch
finely diced, for salpicón
Quantity
1 small bunch
finely chopped, for salpicón
Quantity
4
halved (or substitute 2 oranges plus 4 limes)
Quantity
1
finely minced, for serving
Quantity
for serving
warmed
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| beef shank with bonecut into 2-inch sections | 2 pounds |
| pork ribscut into individual ribs | 1 1/2 pounds |
| whole chickencut into 8 pieces | 1 (about 3 1/2 pounds) |
| white onionhalved | 1 medium |
| head of garlichalved crosswise | 1 |
| large tomatoeshalved | 2 |
| fresh hierbabuena | 1 small bunch (about 8 sprigs) |
| fresh cilantro with rootstied with kitchen twine | 1 small bunch |
| black peppercorns | 1 tablespoon |
| whole cloves | 4 |
| canela (Mexican cinnamon) | 1 stick (about 2 inches) |
| saffron threads | 1 generous pinch (about 1/2 teaspoon) |
| kosher salt | 2 tablespoons, plus more to taste |
| chayotespeeled and quartered | 2 |
| small green cabbagecut into 6 wedges through the core | 1 |
| medium carrotspeeled and cut into 2-inch lengths | 2 |
| sweet potatoes (camote)peeled and cut into thick rounds | 2 medium |
| ripe yellow plantainspeeled and cut into 2-inch sections | 2 |
| fresh corn on the cobhusked and cut into thirds | 2 ears |
| fresh chile xkatikcharred on a comal (or substitute fresh chile guero) | 2 |
| red onionfinely diced, for salpicón | 1 medium |
| radishesfinely diced, for salpicón | 1 bunch |
| fresh cilantrofinely chopped, for salpicón | 1 small bunch |
| naranjas agriashalved (or substitute 2 oranges plus 4 limes) | 4 |
| fresh chile habanero (optional)finely minced, for serving | 1 |
| hand-pressed corn tortillas (optional)warmed | for serving |
Beef shank takes the longest, so it goes in first. Place the shank pieces in a large 10-quart stockpot and cover with cold water by three inches. Bring to a gentle simmer over medium heat. Skim the gray foam that rises in the first fifteen minutes and discard it. Cold water draws the flavor out slowly and gives you a clean broth. A rolling boil clouds the pot and toughens the meat. No me vengas con atajos.
After the beef has simmered for 45 minutes, add the pork ribs to the pot. Add the halved onion, halved garlic head, tomatoes, peppercorns, cloves, canela stick, and the tablespoon of salt. The aromatics belong in the pot from the start of the second meat, not at the end. They need time to release into the broth. Continue at a low simmer for another 45 minutes.
While the meats simmer, place the saffron threads in a small bowl with two tablespoons of hot broth pulled from the pot. Let it steep for ten minutes. The threads will release their color into the liquid, turning it a deep orange-yellow. This is how Yucatán builds the saffron flavor: bloomed first, added later, never tossed in dry. The Spanish brought saffron to the peninsula in the colonial period and the home cooks of Mérida absorbed it into the puchero without apology.
Add the chicken pieces to the pot. Pour in the bloomed saffron with its liquid. Add the tied bunch of cilantro and the hierbabuena. Hierbabuena is not mint and it is not parsley. It is the herb the señoras in Mérida tuck into almost every caldo, and the puchero is naked without it. Simmer for 30 more minutes.
Now the vegetables go in by cooking time, not all at once. Add the chayote, carrots, and sweet potato first. Five minutes later, add the cabbage wedges, corn, and plantain. The plantain should be ripe and yellow with black spots, not green. Green plantain stays starchy. Ripe plantain gives you the sweet counterpoint that makes Yucatecan puchero different from any other puchero in Mexico. Simmer for 25 to 30 minutes more, until everything is tender but still holding its shape.
Heat a dry comal over medium-high. Place the xkatik chiles on the comal and turn them every minute or so until the skins blister and char in spots, about five minutes total. Xkatik is the pale yellow Yucatecan chile with a clean grassy heat. If you cannot find it, fresh chile guero is the closest substitute. Tuck the charred chiles into the pot during the last five minutes so they perfume the broth without overpowering it.
While the puchero finishes, combine the diced red onion, diced radishes, and chopped cilantro in a small bowl. Squeeze the juice of one naranja agria over the top and add a pinch of salt. Toss with your fingers. This is the salpicón. It goes on the table in its own dish, not on the meat. Each person spoons it over their plate at the table. The brightness cuts the richness of three meats and a long broth. Cada estado, su propia cocina, and this is how Yucatán serves it.
Taste the broth now. It should be assertive, golden from the saffron, perfumed by hierbabuena and canela, with a faint sweetness from the plantain and a clean heat from the xkatik. Add more salt if it needs it. Lift the meats and vegetables out and arrange them on a deep platter. Strain a portion of the broth into a separate tureen. Set the salpicón, the minced habanero, the halved naranjas agrias, and the warm tortillas around the table. Each person builds their own bowl: meat, vegetables, broth ladled over, salpicón on top, a squeeze of naranja agria, habanero for those who want it. Así se hace y punto.
1 serving (about 520g)
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