A Sultry Sunday Night

The first bite is smoky.  Only afterwards do I feel the tingling of spice on the tip of my tongue.  This is chicken mole.  I needed to cook tonight – a’ la Like Water for Chocolate.  I wanted to blend all of my emotions, all of my passion, into my cooking; take it out of my bones and into the food. The house is hot tonight and the kitchen even hotter.  The doors are open for a cross breeze and Sia is grooving on the CD player, loud enough for the neighbors to hear.  The air fills with the earthy musky scent of cumin as I grind the seeds in the mortar and pestle.  The chicken pieces and slivered onions fry in hot oil over the stove. I finely chop smoky chipotles in adobo, trying to carefully remove the seeds –the keepers of the most heat.  I chop unsweetened chocolate – unrecognizable in the final dish, but adding to the layers of earthiness – not sweetness. This time, I’m not rushing around the kitchen.   I tell myself to work slowly – to enjoy the process.  I’m not worried about the result.  I’m on no one’s schedule but my own.  While the mole simmers, bubbling on the stove, I cook white basmati rice to capture the sauce.  I also assemble an easy salad of succulent juicy mango and creamy avocado with a sprinkle of limejuice and zest.  It cools my tongue when the mole gets too spicy. The flavors blend together nicely and satisfy me – for tonight.


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