Ximbó Hidalguense

Ximbó is from Hidalgo. Specifically from the Valle del Mezquital, the high arid country where the hñähñu, the people the Spanish called Otomi, have built their cuisine around the maguey plant for centuries. The pencas, the long thick leaves of the maguey, are not a wrapping in the way a banana leaf is a wrapping. They are the cooking vessel and the seasoning at the same time. Roasted over fire and folded around meat, the leaf gives off a smoky, mineral, slightly sweet flavor that no other ingredient produces.

The filling tells you where you are. Chicken and pork, yes, but cueritos, the pork skin, is what makes this ximbó and not something else. The cueritos cook down into something silky and gelatinous that binds the dish. Nopales from the same arid land, epazote, a coarse adobo of guajillo and ancho and pasilla. This is not delicate food. This is food built for people who work the land, eat once at midday, and need it to hold them until sundown.

I spent ten days in Ixmiquilpan and the small communities around it with a woman named Doña Refugio who has been digging ximbó pits since she was a girl. She showed me how to choose a penca, how to roast it, how to fold it so it does not leak. She told me the pit version takes half a day and the oven version takes three hours and they are not the same dish, but the oven version is honest if you do the rest right. I am giving you the oven version. If you ever get to Hidalgo, eat the pit version and you will understand what I mean. Saber cocinar es saber vivir.