Posole: Just Under the Wire

Los Angeles, California

Here's a typical conversation during the rainy season in Southern California. I'm with my friend, Joy, who is driving us to an event we attend each Tuesday evening (more about the event in posts to come). It is late April, which would be springtime in other places in the Western Hemisphere. But here in what was once a desert region, we now only have two seasons -- each lasting for years, or so it would seem. We have drought. We have El Nino. Now, El Nino is cool because you can blame everything on it. It's a lot like adolescence; PMS; or a mid-life crisis. Bad behavior, moodiness? El Nino. Get the picture?

Anyway, we are in the middle of a declared drought, but it's still raining. We've had twice the rain that we had last year, and are above the season average. Still, we're Angelenos. So, we don't really believe in rain. Therefore, on Tuesday evening, even though they had forecast a fifty percent chance of rain, we didn't recognize it when it came.

"Is that rain?" I asked Joy, when I saw spots on her windshield.

"No, I think it's sap," she replied (as if we live in a forest).

"It's moving," I said.

"OmiGod. It is raining!"

Trust me, there were conversations like this all over Los Angeles that night. And that rain is what brings me to the topic of today's post which is posole.

Now, if you're not familiar with posole, than you must turn away from your screen and run to your nearest bookstore (ok -- I know you stayed with the screen but logged onto your Amazon account) to purchase Calvin Trillin's book Feeding a Yen. He is my favorite food writer, and one of my favorite, favorite LOL writers. In this book you will find everything you need to know about posole in an article entitled Posole Dreams. Without giving too much away, the story chronicles Trillin's thwarted desire to open a restaurant in New York that only served posole. I would have eaten there. Often.

Posole is what you want on a rainy Los Angeles night. It's what you might want the night after too much tequila (though purists will say that is when menudo is indicated). It's what I want after Thanksgiving to use up the leftovers from the only turkey I roast in a calendar year. And it's what I crave for comfort during all the rest of the cooler months, but then prepared with chicken (which is frankly better, though the recipe below is for late November's version. It has a catchier title).

 Thanksgiving Posole


1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon canola oil
1/2 onion, chopped
1 garlic clove, minced
1/2 teaspoon
1 teaspoon smoked, bittersweet paprika
1/2 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
ground pepper
1 quart chicken stock or broth
1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes
1 cup shredded turkey
1 teaspoon to 1 tablespoon chipotle chilies,

in adobo, pureed
1 teaspoon to 1 tablespoon diced green chilies
1 14-ounce can golden hominy, drained

sliced radishes, scallions, chopped avocado, lime quarters, chopped cilantro & dried oregano (all in small condiment dishes; each person to add his own to the pozole)

Heat butter and oil in large dutch oven over medium heat. Add onion and garlic; saute three minutes. Add salt and continue sauteing until onion is soft. Sprinkle spices over, combine. Add pepper. Cook for one minute, then add chicken stock/broth. tomatoes, and chilies. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer for twenty minutes. Add chicken and hominy. Simmer for five more minutes. Serve with condiments above.

Double recipe for six servings.

Note: 1 teaspoon of the chilies will make a rather mild posole. Conversely, 1 tablespoon will make a fairly hot one.


So there you have it. Posole. Even if you haven't heard of it, it will taste somehow familiar. And if you develop a yen for it, like Calvin Trillin, you may travel far and wide to eat a lot of it. Or, if you're like me, you'll think of it in an ambiguous, spring rain one night in Southern California. And you will prepare it once more before the rain stops falling, and the sap stops running. For it's a long, long time from April to November. Or something like that. Thank you for reading my blog.

Cooks' Treats

Los Angeles, California


Someone pointed out to me that it has been awhile since I returned to my theme of What Would Sandra Do? While this code (as the Pirates of the Caribbean would say, it's really more of a guideline . . .) crosses my mind frequently, I haven't touched on it in every post. Why is this, you may well ask? Well, first of all, I feel that it may not be all that interesting to read about my method for solving the ethical dilemmas in everyday life. And if that is something you do find interesting, there are far more eloquent tomes on this to be found (in Russian literature, for example). Secondly, the nature of a blog is that it takes on a life of its own. So far, my blog's life is defined by things like friendship, food, and a couple of fond memories. And that's OK. Thirdly, and I want to be clear here, my Sandra is NOT Sandra Day O'Connor. And I've come to discover that the phrase that I thought my husband, Billy, coined is currently being used in connection with the honorable Supreme Court jurist. So, if you were looking for political thrust here, I suggest that you look elsewhere. This is about the micro, not the macro.

However, to assuage my guilt at sending you away, or disappointing you as to my apolitical content, I am offering the following:

Cooks' Treats

1 bottle Karo light corn syrup
2 cups sugar
1 jar (approx. 15 oz.) Laura Scudder's Old-fashioned crunchy peanut butter
1 box (approx. 13 oz) Special K cereal
1 12-oz. package semi-sweet chocolate chips
1 12-oz. package butterscotch chips

Mix sugar and syrup in heavy-bottomed pan. Stir over high heat until sugar dissolves and mixture comes to a rapid boil. Off heat, add peanut butter and stir until blended. Return to heat and low to bubble for a few minutes.

Meanwhile, empty Special K into a large bowl. Pour mixture over cereal and mix well. Pour into well-greased 11x13" pan or glass casserole. Cool or room temperature (or chill briefly to speed up process).

Place chocolate and butterscotch chips in pyrex measure; melt in microwave. Pour over top of mixture in pan and spread evenly.

Refrigerate until well chilled. Cut into squares.


What I like about these treats is that they are really quite heinous, though in a good way. I mean, those among us who can rationalize with the best of them (like my husband, Billy) would say that Special K is healthy. But I mean, really, have you ever read the box panel indicating the nutritional value of Special K? Couldn't they have upped the fiber, somehow, like other packing materials found in the cereal aisle? Anyway, nutrition-be-damned these are what you want when you really need something so bad that it's good. This is Elvis Presley territory -- we're talking about sweet solace comparable to grilled peanut butter and banana sandwiches; we're talking deep-fried Snickers bars. We're talking plain, damn, nasty bliss that you can eat with your fingers.


So, apart from utilizing her in the solving the challenges in my everyday life, here's one more thing that Sandra do. Because the truth is that sometimes the best solution to any problem is to hunker down with a nice big mug of tea, and eat something like this. Next time you're stumped, try it. Try these! Because sometimes, this is what Sandra would do. Thanks for reading my blog.