Fruit

This version of pasta salad ditches the mayonnaise-based dressing for a lighter and brighter vinaigrette of flaxseed oil, lemon juice, and vinegar. It also incorporates ample fresh herbs, a variety of vegetables, and kamut pasta—a protein-rich whole-wheat pasta that contains healthy amounts of the antioxidants vitamin E and selenium. Other types of whole-wheat pasta can be used instead. The salad makes a great side for a potluck, but it works as a main course, too.

A snappy almond-and-herb pesto is a fresh departure from the classic pine-nut-and-basil version. For an even more nutritious variation, add three tablespoons ground flaxseed to the pesto.

Avocado provides folic acid, fiber, and monounsaturated fatty acids; pear adds extra soluble fiber and sweetness.

When you want a chile with distinctive flavor and a blast of heat for a salsa with Caribbean roots, the habanero is an obvious choice. It is native to the Caribbean basin, which includes the Yucatán region of Mexico. The flavor of habaneros has tropical overtones that perfectly complement fruit like mangoes and bananas. A little goes a long way—despite its diminutive size, it is the hottest of all chiles available in the United States and Mexico. This salsa makes a great condiment for pork, chicken, or fish.

An achiote rub is the classic Yucatan way of marinating fish. I tasted this rub for the first time in Isla Mujeres in the early 1970s, when you could still live on the beach in a palapa and hammock, eat great seafood, and drink cold beers for a few dollars per day. The fishermen would rub fish with an achiote-citrus paste and grill them on the beach over fires made from coconut husks. When I worked at Chez Panisse in the late 1970s, I duplicated this rub from my taste memory for some of their famous garlic festivals. The light citrus flavors of the achiote paste are a beautiful contrast to the oily texture of the swordfish. If you don’t have swordfish, use another meaty ocean fish such as wahoo or mahi mahi.

Native to North America, turkey has always been a celebratory bird (or at least it was celebrated by those who dined on it). Turkey (guajolote, in Spanish) was used for special feasts in pre-Columbian times and was a favorite food of the American Indians. In Mexico today, turkey in mole is still the preferred holiday dish. For Thanksgiving dinner one year at Coyote Café, we raised almost thirty wild turkeys (so much better than the modern domesticated turkey) on open ranchland so they were free to go anywhere and eat anything. The flavor of those turkeys was magnificent! This recipe is a tempting taste of what awaits any traveler to Oaxaca or Puebla, two of the great Mexican mole capitals. Commercially produced mole sauces are widely available throughout most major grocery store chains in the United States. We have used turkey breast for this recipe, but any part of the turkey will work. Note that the turkey must marinate overnight before cooking.

Achiote paste is a distinctive staple marinade of the Yucatán peninsula that infuses food with a brick-red hue, a part bitter–part acidic flavor, and an earthy intensity that lingers on the palate. It’s usually combined with the bitter orange of the Yucatán and the fierce, tropical habanero chile. This recipe has a distinctly Caribbean flair, evoking personal memories of the early market in Merida, capital of the Yucatan and famous for its beaches. There, you’ll find wonderful whole fish marinated in achiote paste and cooked on fires on the beach over coconut husks. Or chicken tamales with achiote paste wrapped in banana leaves steamed, then finished over an open fire. These tacos are traditionally served with black beans, rice, and a heaping side of fried plantains (see page 140). You can make your own pickled onions for the garnish: Slice red onions into thin half-moons, sprinkle with oregano, and marinate in the juice from a jar of pickled jalapeños for about 20 minutes.

Here in New Mexico, we have a number of really good goat-cheese producers who sell their products at farmer’s markets. Spanish settlers originally introduced goats to the region along with the craft of making goat cheese. For Mexican recipes, I prefer the flavor of goat cheese to American cheeses made with cow’s milk. Mexican cooking is rich and needs the counterpoint of a sharp cheese for balance and lively taste. Cow’s milk cheeses are usually too creamy and flat in flavor, absorb too much of the flavor accents from a dish, and lack a certain acidity and sharpness common to Mexican cheeses. New Mexico also has great apples, as good as those I grew up with in New England. At an elevation of 7,000 feet, Santa Fe experiences very cold nights in the fall that “crisp” the apples and set the juices. The sweet juiciness of apples is a perfect match to the mild creaminess, tang, and richness of goat cheese. You can use the goat cheese as a garnish, if you prefer, rather than mixing it into the filling.

When poaching delicate fruit, such as apricots and peaches, use a large shallow pan so the fruit can be in a single layer, rather than piled on top of each other. Also, keep the fruit submerged in poaching liquid with a round of parchment paper to prevent it from turning brown. After you serve the fruit, mix the poaching liquid with seltzer water to make a refreshing apricot fizz.

Fresh citrus juice is ideal for making granita; it is easy to extract and it freezes particularly well. For variety, use an equal amount of any type of citrus juice in place of grapefruit. Campari lends a pleasant bitterness and dash of color to grapefruit granita; add 3 tablespoons to the proportions below. To make apple granita, puree four peeled and cored apples in a food processor with 1/2 cup water and the juice of one lemon (to preserve the color); strain, and you should have 2 cups juice. For watermelon granita, puree about 3 cups cubed melon in a processor; strain.

Because no two batches of fruit have the same sweetness, it’s important to adjust the mix before freezing. This will affect more than flavor because sugar lowers the freezing point of water; so the sweeter your mix, the slushier your sorbet. Too little sugar and the sorbet will be icy hard. Some chefs use a saccharometer (which gauges a liquid’s density by how much of the instrument floats above the surface), but a large uncooked egg stands in quite well (see step 4). Watermelon is one of the simplest flavors to make, since it requires no added water. Follow the amounts in the chart on page 485 to make the suggested flavor variations. When using only juice, you can skip the first step. Citrus fruit can be squeezed by hand. For the kiwi and pineapple sorbets, you will need to add fresh lime or lemon juice along with water in the first step. All liquids should be strained into a deep bowl or plastic container as directed. If desired, add up to 3 tablespoons of other flavorings such as liqueur before adding the simple syrup.