Understanding Molé

Living in Humboldt Park, a neighborhood with one of the strongest Latin presences in Chicago, I've found myself adopting a lot of things I never would have thought I'd have held even a passing interest in a few years ago. Among the fascinations are salsa and boogaloo music, those really long lasting candles with Saints on them, an odd fascination with the color red and a certain fondness for poblanos and cilantro. I've already talked to a certain length about the surrounding environs and their effect on my musical palette but those candles came out of nowhere! I always found them to be somewhat kitschy (forgive the offensiveness of that statement) and at first when I purchased a few, I told myself I would only use them as decoration for the living room (which I had just painted a deep crimson red - see, there's that red obsession!). After a few months of looking at them every day, I began to wonder how long one could actually last (answer - a good 48 hours. I didn't burn the candle straight, this was an experiment that took a good eight or nine days to complete with the candle burning for five to six hours each night).

Honestly, the jarred stuff should be avoided at all costs (but you already knew that didn't you?).

Of all of the culinary flavors I found my palette opening up to, one of the dishes I've found myself developing something of an obsession over in the last few months is molé. Prepared from a legion of ingredients (highlights include the aforementioned poblanos as well as roasted almonds, fresh tomatoes, a good amount of cumin and dark - NOT cocoa powder - chocolate melted in during the final stages of preparation) and requiring atleast three or four hours to complete if looking to lock in the authentic flavor and texture, molé is no small feat. Initially I became curious not only by my seeing it heavily featured in jarred form up the street at the Mexican grocer, but also because it was the pride and joy for Ignacio Suarez, the often pressed upon father in the now defunct dramedy Ugly Betty. Throughout the four seasons of the show, Ignacio spoke often and fondly about his beloved molé recipe and even went so far as selling it for a substantial amount of money during one of the later story arcs in the series.

One of those television parents you always wished you had.

A few months back, I was booked to do a dinner for a party of margarita guzzling bachelorettes who were looking to have a Mexican menu featured at their soiree. Figuring it was as good a time as ever to take a crack at molé, I made the suggestion - the hostess signed off on it excitedly and without hesitation - and proceeded to spend the week leading up to the event in my kitchen figuring out the best way to approach this sauce. Upon researching it, I found that many modern Mexican house holds have never even made the stuff, much less tasted it - an alarming thought when discovering upon further reading that molé is considered the national dish of Mexico.

After several passes, I eventually found a version of the sauce that I was content with and debuted it at the party to rave results. Since that party, I've had a container of molé in the refrigerator at almost all times in case of emergency cravings (having extra tortillas on hand proves useful in the event of). The sauce - so rich and flavorful - is certainly substantial enough to comprise a meal all its own. Spread over kale, black bean and potato enchiladas with a heaping side of mango and serrano really brings out the flavor in the molé and makes the entire dish pop. I can't think of a dish since the great risotto revolution of 2008 where I've been so smitten.

Lately, a large group of records have been giving me this same feeling - rich, textured and full of dimension - I've been spinning them nearly non stop. The first two are both released on the brilliant Soundway label. The first, entitled "Cartagena", acts as a more straight forward primer on the Latin sounds that were simmering in the 60's while "Tumbélé" takes those same Latin sounds and throws them into a blender with a heaping dose of various sounds from abroad. While the two were released separately, they could be listened to as companion pieces without issue. "Salsa Boricua De Chicago", a compilation by Chicago based the Numero Group pairs well with "Exciting and Grand" by Rene Grand and his New York Combo. The two present interesting contrasts to one another with Grand's Combo playing squarely in the more identifiable New York styled boogaloo sound of the time period while the Numero curated compilation sees its disparate set of acts playing in a much looser and funkier style. Where Grand's Combo plays the Cuban influence straight, the acts on 'Boricua" stray further into their homelands and abroad and at times even channel the steel drum band sounds from far off in Trinidad.

At the time of their release, all of these sides were pretty restricted to their local areas with Rene Grand perhaps receiving the most attention due to his being so closely aligned with the New York sound (the bands on 'Boricua' for example, stayed exclusively in Chicago and barely ventured outside of the city - copies of their recordings nowadays fetch high prices on numerous online auction sites). Much of the music found in this quadruplet of releases would be distilled down into a more pop friendly sound by the likes of Xavier Cugat and to a certain extent, even acts such as Sergio Mendes and Herb Albert (infusing equally watered down Brazilian elements) would play with many of the elements found in the fiercest Latin LP's. While releases by these acts fared better in the general market place (the glut of beat up copies of their LP's - Herb Albert especially - in every thrift store from coast to coast stands as testament to their flaky appeal), none of them could capture the raw, rough and tumble sound found on the original sides presented here on the releases highlighted.

While my knowledge of Latin and Cuban sounds is still in its infancy, I feel like I'm going to have a hard time finding records that top this particular batch. Forays into more streamlined salsa and merengue leave me cold as I've grown spoiled off of hearing the sounds on these LP's with their endless sides of speaker to speaker percussion tricks and playfully aggressive call and response vocalization. Much like the improvement of my molé recipe over time, I'm sure my knowledge of these genres will grow deeper and alongside that, my appreciation for the varying sounds I hear. A few years ago, I would have balked at the thought of picking apart Latin Boogaloo and early Salsa records, but now I can't figure out how I went so long without enjoying the stuff!

Now I want molé.