Gluten Free

I heard of these paletas when I last visited Monterrey, but I never got to try them because for some absurd reason the ice cream shops are not open year-round. However, I thought they were an ingenious idea, so I immediately set about trying to create them. The paletas I heard about but never got to try had the caramel in the center—but recreating that effect was way too sticky and complicated to do at home. So I devised this simpler way to layer these two delicious flavors.

Raspados are sold by street hawkers, particularly in warm climates, where they are especially refreshing. The vendors pour colorful sweet syrups over shaved ice, and the flavors vary depending on which fruits grow locally (although some vendors use artificial flavors). This tangerine ice has a naturally refreshing fruitiness. You can substitute any other citrus, or combination of citrus, and can add up to 1 cup of sugar if the fruit is tart.

Who doesn’t love a margarita? Well, this is one way to get the flavor in a very refreshing ice that you can keep on hand in your freezer. You’ll be tempted to add more tequila, but try to refrain, because it won’t freeze.

The bright burgundy color of the hibiscus is only half the beauty of this delicious flower. It is one of the most common flavors for aguas frescas, and its acidity is fantastic in this yummy frozen treat.

My brother Pedro loves anything with mango and chile, and he’s not alone. It has become one of the most common combinations in sweets in Mexico; in fact, when you eat fresh mango, powdered chile of some kind is always on the table. I wanted to do something in this book just for him, but I am sure he won’t mind sharing (that’s the kind of guy he is). The chile powder you use is a matter of taste. It isn’t just about the heat; it’s also about the flavor. I particularly like the piquín chile from Oaxa ca, but feel free to substitute it for ground guajillo, chipotle, or your personal favorite.

This is a very simple frozen dessert with an intense pecan flavor. Many of the ice creams and pops in Mexico have a pleasant grainy texture, and in this case it is produced by puréeing only a portion of the steeped nuts, so be sure to use high-quality, fresh nuts.

Tamarind, a tropical fruit native to Asia, looks sort of like a brown fava bean with a hard tan shell that surrounds a sticky, meaty brown flesh. The fruit is often mixed with chile, and I found more than three dozen different candies made from it. Tamarind sorbet has a seductive tartness that comes through in this smooth nieve.

If you’ve ever visited Oaxaca, my favorite state in all of Mexico, undoubtedly you have seen people walking around with cones or cups filled with fluorescent green sorbet. I try to stay away from colorings, especially when it comes to fruit preparations, but if you can get past the scary color, you’ll discover a surprisingly refreshing flavor. The color may not be subtle, but the flavor is, and lime is one of the most popular flavors in Oaxaca. Try to select very green small limes, because they tend to have the best flavor. Be sure to wash and dry them very well. Although the original recipe doesn’t call for fresh lime juice, I find that a little bit balances the sweetness of the sorbet and adds another layer of flavor.

Whenever I crave a cold sweet treat, I always go for the nieves. Ice cream is great, of course, but I am all about the fruit. Anyone who knows me knows that I can eat a quarter of a watermelon in half an hour, that I eat six to ten pieces of fruit per day during the summer, and that I have a particular weakness for stone fruit. The fruit is always the main focus in sorbet, with no distractions. Although the variety of stone fruit is not as diverse in Mexico as it is in other parts of the world, we have some tart and sweet apricots that make an extremely refreshing and silky nieve. Feel free to substitute any other stone fruit that is ripe and in season.

Sliced cucumbers mixed with salt, lime, and chile are often eaten in Mexico as a snack and are even sold at movie theaters. I was about thirteen when I first tried this combination as a sorbet on a warm day in Cuernavaca. Well, this time the flavor of the cucumber was heightened with a little sugar, and the sorbet was topped with a mixture of chile and lime. I’ve included the chiles in the sorbet itself, by infusing them in the syrup; however, you can always sprinkle some powdered chile on top after it has set.

Whenever I visit Pátzcuaro, Michoacán, I always look forward to the ice creams in the main square. During my last visit, as I waited for the crowds to diminish at noontime so that I could interview Amparo Contreras de Galván with my childhood friend Martha Silva, I had a couple of scoops of sorbet. I tend to order the same ones wherever I go, but the membrillo one at La Pancada caught my eye. As I took a bite, without even swallowing it, I knew it had to be in the book. Although the famous ice creams in the town are called pastes, I have to say, this was the one for me. Whenever something so special comes my way, I remember it vividly, taking mental notes of each layer of flavor and texture that at times allows me to re-create things I love so much. I must say, this quince sorbet is pretty close to the one I had. I suggest you make a batch of the Requesón Cheese Ice Cream (page 185) to go with it, in the classic pairing of cheese and quince but in a whole new way.

Although pumpkin is not technically a fruit, it is eaten in this sweet preparation, as many fruits are. There are many foods specially made for Día de los Muertos celebrations throughout Mexico, and this is one of the most representative. It is traditionally cooked in clay casseroles, with the seeds and strands attached, but you can also clean and dry the seeds and snack on them later.

This custard is a very tasty dessert and is often served with fruit, cookies, or pound cake. Although it is called a sauce, the natilla takes center stage rather than the other way around. Many convents serve it in a large bowl and dust freshly ground canela over a stencil to create a religious symbol or figure on top. I particularly like it with fruit such as mango, guava, or berries.

I hesitated about including this recipe in the book because these sweet, cheeselike curds are quite unattractive and you might get scared away if this is the first recipe you try. There is no way around it, and even the most experienced photographer couldn’t beautify them. Once you get past their appearance, however, their wonderful, sweet cinnamony flavor comes through, and you will realize that the taste makes up for what they lack in the beauty department. They were originally created in the city of Zamora in Michoacán, but this recipe is derived from one prepared by the Esperanza clan at Dulcería Esperanza, a family-run candy business in another part of the same state that cooks more than 30 gallons of milk a day in huge rectangular copper pots to make them.

Cajeta is another name for fruit pastes, or ates, and is a term still used in certain states, but the most familiar form of cajeta is the sweet caramel made from goat’s or cow’s milk and cooked down with sugar in copper pots. The goat’s milk has a distinctive grassy, musky flavor and is the most commonly used for this application. The name derives from the wooden boxes called cajetes made from tejamanil or ocote (pine). Adding a little corn syrup helps with the sticky consistency, but it can be left out if you prefer to make it the old-fashioned way. This luscious sauce is wonderful to top (warm) or swirl into ice cream, to accompany pancakes, or, better yet, to eat by the spoonful!

During my research, I visited some friends in Chihuahua. We made a family recipe for flan that required raw milk, took ten hours to bake, and sat in the fridge for two days before unmolding! It was, I have to say, the best flan I’ve ever tasted, but for practicality, I chose a recipe that doesn’t require three days of preparation—not to mention living or traveling to a state where raw milk is legal. The types of flans that exist are endless, and choosing one basic one was no easy task. I could write a whole book on flans (hey, there’s an idea!), but, inspired by the gentle patience required by the one in Chihuahua, I chose to do an old-fashioned one. Old-fashioned in the sense that I didn’t want to use any canned milk, powders, or artificial flavorings. I also wanted to make a flan that was not too eggy because that is a common complaint with these kinds of flans, so I used half-and-half instead of milk to help thicken it.

When I visited Guadalajara, I spent two whole days asking around and traveling to find the best jericallas possible. I came across a lot of misguided information and dead ends, but eventually, persistence and curiosity paid off. I found a little shop with an eggshell-colored metal wall and a tiny opening that allowed you to peek at the rectangular black oven and endless trays of individual glasses, small and large, filled with the yellowish custard. The owner didn’t share the recipe; however, she did say that although cornstarch is often used to stabilize it (and she admitted to using it when the price of eggs goes up), the best ones are made without it. Jericalla is one of my favorite desserts. It’s most commonly found in the state of Jalisco, and some say the name derives from the Valencian city of Jérica, where the recipe was brought by Spanish settlers in the eighteenth century. It is similar to flan but lighter (it can’t be unmolded), is flavored with canela, has a dark toasty sheet on top, and is eaten directly from the cooking vessel. This recipe does not refrigerate well because the topping becomes very unappealing, so it should be eaten the day you make it and at room temperature or briefly chilled.

Try this luscious topping on the cake above instead of the whipped cream. Finish by toasting the meringue waves with a kitchen torch.

Mamey is one of those fruits that is a dessert in itself. Its oval-shaped, light brown sandy shell hides the seductive, velvety, sweet orange flesh. It is hard to get outside of Mexico, but if you are lucky enough to find some ripe ones, make this quick and deliciously creamy dessert.

The black zapote fruit got its name because the inside pulp is actually black like mud, but don’t be put off by the unusual color because the fruit is succulent and sweet. If you are in a place where you can get them, buy the ones that feel so soft as to seem almost spoiled, because these have the best flavor. The creamy pulp blends very nicely with the fresh orange juice and is a classic combination