An ode to barbecue Sundays

I don’t remember the name of the lady who worked with my grandmother. What I remember are her hand-pressed tortillas, as round as if they had been made in a press. I don’t remember her name, but I remember everything else: the yellow tub where she kept the dough, the orange borders that divided the walls of the place, the thick wooden chairs, the pristine white tablecloths, the little clay pots always full of sauce. Even today, those smells take me back to Sundays at Barbacoa Tlalnepantla, the restaurant that my grandparents ran in their home for thirty-five years.Every Sunday, the ritual called to its patrons like a bell. At the center of the family table was a warm, roasted maguey leaf protecting a treasure: a couple of kilos of shoulder and brisket. I was never picky. My great appetite has supported me through the ages. However, the eight-year-old girl I was preferred the barbacoa taco over the consommé, the brisket over the offal, the borracha sauce over the sober one (a.k.a. the green one).According to Chef Aquiles Chávez, born in Tabasco but residing in Hidalgo, barbacoa has its origins in pre-Columbian cultures. “The Maya called pib the act of burying a deer wrapped in banana or maguey leaves. The meat was marinated in a red recado made from achiote.” In the highlands, for example, it was prepared with xoloitzcuintli, as sheep and pigs were incorporated into the recipe only with the arrival of the Spaniards. Barbacoa is one of the most complex dishes technically and culturally, and its long steam cooking makes the juices of the meat prepared there awaken. You’re welcome, world! At least in Mexico, the most popular version is from the highlands — mainly from Hidalgo, Tlaxcala, the State of Mexico, or Querétaro — which is generally made with lamb or goat. And since barbacoa refers to the technique rather than the animal, any protein can fit into the hole dug in the ground — about one and a half meters deep and seventy wide, more or less. Welcome birds, game meats, and pork. In the north of the country, the preparation is even done with beef or enchiladas, and in the large cities, overwhelmed by asphalt, it can be made in a drum.This dish gives identity, especially to the highland area, and its importance may be due to the fact that its preparation is almost a ritual, “it is a stew, a party dish, a celebration. Making barbacoa is a celebration,” adds Aquiles. The process of making barbacoa is extremely laborious. My mom remembers that the work began with the purchase of lambs five days before slaughter. Saturday was the day of sacrifice, the day she wanted to escape from home. Once the slaughter was done, specifically to ensure the meat of the animals, the recado to swim in the consommé was prepared: carrots, onions, árbol chiles, chickpeas, and rice. At six in the evening, my grandfather and my mom’s brothers would light the oven, and when it was at its hottest point, they roasted the maguey leaves and, unintentionally, a bit of their faces. In the style of the State of Mexico, my maternal lineage's place of origin, a nopal salad was also prepared to accompany the lamb. At nine at night, they would remove the larger coals and place a pot with all the vegetables so that the cooking juices could drain there, forming a broth like none I have tasted again. Once the meat was placed on a grill and covered with the leaves, they would close the hole with a sheet finally sealed with a special mud made by themselves. Then all that remained was to wait for the magic of Grandpa Fire. The barbacoa was ready for the first sale after seven in the morning. The barbacoa from Hidalgo differs in that, being a volcanic region, the ovens are different: “In Hidalgo, there is a lot of obsidian and basalt, products of volcanic eruptions. The traditional Hidalgo barbacoa oven is a hole in the ground that is often lined with basalt.” The porous stone, also known as Chinese stone or recinto, retains heat very well, making it ideal for cooking lamb or goat meat. Another peculiarity of the state, according to Aquiles, is the sacrifice of the lamb: “a process quite kosher,” he claims. This particular technique of the Jewish religion, in which the animal is completely drained of blood, prevents the premature decomposition of the meat. It is most common to eat it enchilada or marinated in guajillo, cascabel, árbol chiles, epazote, onion, and garlic, or to eat it in a pancita, stuffed with the animal's entrails. “There is also the pancita that is known as green. The color comes from the epazote and serrano and jalapeño chiles,” Aquiles tells me.While each region has its preferred breakfast, barbacoa can be one of the most popular Sunday breakfasts. Because while we love tamales, chilaquiles, and eggs, nothing lifts the spirits of a weekend better than a brisket taco. “It will help you cure the ills of drinking: the hangover. It’s a restorative food due to its high protein content, and, well, the consommé is always comforting,” assures the chef. The feast is on the table when a plate of steaming barbacoa arrives. It is always accompanied by handmade tortillas, finely chopped onion, cilantro, and lime. There is pulque, there is a beer, maybe two. Coffee from the pot, too. And next to the taco is the consommé, dense, spicy, boiling. There’s a little nopal salad, made like they did in my grandparents' restaurant, and of course, some gorditas or fried quesadillas. And there should be no Sunday barbacoa without its inseparable companion: the borracha sauce.“The pasilla chili is roasted. Then it is soaked with a little pulque, hence the name borracha. It includes roasted tomatillos, onion, garlic. I add a little cilantro, salt, of course, and sometimes we add a bit of ranch cheese,” shares Aquiles. My mother recalls the smell, the fragrance that emanated from the oven in my grandparents’ restaurant. “Eating the first barbacoa that came out of the oven, still warm and falling apart… then adding sauce and eating it in freshly made tortillas is something I will never forget,” she shares with me. Flooded with memories, I too can’t wait for the weekend. I wish I could go back to that time when all I had to do was leave Chabelo on the TV, run to the restaurant, and get a barbacoa taco. But since the present is a gift, I will prepare this recipe today. If you make it at home too, share it with me. Add a little family, love, and ta-da: whatever the day, you’ll have an exceptional Sunday.