A Mole in Our Midst

Cuisine, to state the obvious, is inherently a dialogue of cultures. Which is why the term “fusion” has always seemed redundant to me. Food cultures borrow from each other as virally as any social media technology, well before those technologies were a glimmer in folks’ eyes.

So I have had this jar of Mole sitting in my refrigerator for some time. I love the taste, a blend of guajillo, ancho, chipotle chilis, peanuts, tomatoes, and chocolate, among other ingredients. But I simply was at a loss as to how to adapt to my a southern soul food kitchen — which admittedly sounds stupid once I say that out loud, because it is beautifully suited to this cuisine.

And then a dear friend of mine comes along and suggests that I make my own. The stuff in the jar in my refrigerator was far too dry and far too limited in quantity to make good use of. But starting from scratch like any of the dozen or so sauces we do in our kitchen sounded perfect. And so that was today’s project. Wow.

This mole in my kitchen begs a more profound question having to do with what really defines regional cuisine — a debate that rages (if you are a foodie) from things like the most authentic version of pizza to issues of culture appropriation, and so on. Me? I’ll leave the food philosophy to others. This sauce simply tastes out of this world.