Rio Grande, Trash Fries, and Definitions of Friendsgiving
The greatest controversy of our time
Please forward to a food-loving friend!
Last weekend I went to a Friendsgiving, which befuddled me because I understood the word to mean “Thanksgiving with friends.” So I took to Twitter polling to see if people shared my understanding, or if it really means “a party with friends, where Thanksgiving foods are served, in November.”
As of this writing, 64% or respondents agree with my definition: it’s on Thanksgiving Day. So we are far from consensus! Of course, we might want to move away from the word anyway, for reasons outlined by Preeti Mistry. (Essentially, chosen families are just as important.)
A while back I did an episode about American Thanksgiving with Canadian Gail Simmons. The Top Chef judge is a very kind and polite person, which was great because … explaining the holiday to a foreigner really makes you grapple with how absurd it is.
Having said all that … whatcha eatin’ on Thursday? I have my thing I always make, and this year I’m trying to escape the tyranny of pie. Talk about your classics and your experiments in this thread here.
Save Your Soul with Holy Roller’s Trash Fries
Deep in the heart of Texas, the front door at Holy Roller spells out two rules: “No guns” and “No jerks.” Inside awaits a cool, cavernous all-day brunch spot where a wall-to-wall tapestry of Iggy Pop looms over the back booth - a benevolent god in an off-kilter crown, welcoming all who enter.
Opened in 2017 by local pastry chef Callie Speer, this punk rock oasis is a stone’s throw from a strip of bars frequented by conventioneers in conference lanyards, but with its tongue-in-cheek religious kitsch and unrepentant ethos, it might as well be on another planet altogether.
One signature dish worth digging into: “Trash Fries,” an unholy blend of Mexican street corn and poutine with French fries, gravy, corn, cotija, cilantro, and sliced jalapeño, with a fried egg perched on top. Like punk itself, this plate is a mishmash of discordant things that somehow come together just right.
Other hangover cures on Holy Roller’s indulgent menu include the migas kolache, drenched in queso; the “Badass Pretzel Sando” with peanut butter semifreddo, strawberry jam and dark chocolate; and monkey bread brulee with crème fraiche and grapefruit. If you’re in Austin, seeking sweet redemption from last night’s sins, this is the place to get it. 509 Rio Grande St, Austin, TX; (512) 502-5119; holyrolleraustin.com. -Amy Wilde
More than Chile: New Mexico’s Rio Grande Valley Cuisine
By Candolin Cook
When most people think of New Mexican food, they think of chile. The spicy, flame-roasted pepper, often prepared as a sauce (when we say chile, we often mean already cooked), that smothers burritos, tops cheeseburgers, and prompts New Mexico’s official state question: Red or green?
Photo: Doug Merriam
The ubiquity and celebration of New Mexico chile, however, tends to overshadow other foods that are culturally and culinarily significant to the state. (In other parts of the country, the vegetable is usually referred to as Hatch chiles, which are just one variety.) “New Mexicans bleed red and green,” says Jonathan Perno, a James Beard Award-nominated chef at Campo, in Albuquerque. “But there is so much more to this place.”
Enter “Rio Grande Valley Cuisine”—a term coined by Perno—which showcases the state’s rich history through its unique ingredients. “Rio Grande Valley Cuisine is [the culmination] of all the people, past and present, producing food along the river corridor,” says Perno. New Mexico boasts some of the oldest food traditions in the United States. Since the mid-sixteenth century, Indigenous foodways have mixed with Spanish influences and imported goods from the Camino Real and Santa Fe Trail. This particular blend of native and introduced ingredients, ancient and modern farming techniques, and southwestern terroir has resulted in a cuisine full of depth and distinction in the Land of Enchantment.
Rio Grande Valley foods you need to know
Quelites: The mighty Rio Grande spans the length of New Mexico, cutting the state in half, and providing much-needed water to agricultural production and ranching, as well as creating a lush river basin conducive to foraging. Quelites is a Spanish term used for any number of wild plants harvested for their leafy greens. In New Mexico, it most commonly refers to lamb’s quarters, a weed often foraged near streams and rivers. When cooked it becomes creamy and luscious like spinach, and is traditionally prepared with beans and chile.
Shepherd’s Lamb: When the colonizer Francisco Vázquez de Coronado set out for Nuevo Mexico in 1540, he brought along 5,000 live churro and dahl sheep to feed his expedition. Some of these animals were left behind, bred with local Big Horn sheep, and became popular livestock with Navajo and Pueblo farmers. Today, Shepherd’s Lamb, a 200-acre family ranch in north-central New Mexico, raises a number of heritage Navajo-Churros, along with other breeds, for meat and wool. One of the few suppliers of certified-organic, grassfed lamb in the country, Shepherd’s is as dedicated to sustainability as they are to tradition. The meat can be purchased online or if you’re ever in Albuquerque, the Shepherd’s Lamb Mole Rojo at Campo is a must-try.
Bolita Beans: Bolita beans are similar to pintos but sweeter, creamier, have a shorter cook time, and are easier on the digestive system. A local farmers’ market staple, these heirloom beans were introduced to the Pueblo peoples of northern New Mexico by the Spanish hundreds of years ago. The deep root system of a bolita bean bush makes it extremely drought-tolerant and well-suited to the arid Southwest.
Photo: Stephanie Cameron
Landrace Blue Corn: Part of the “three sisters” staple crops of corn, beans, and squash, blue corn has been cultivated by Native Americans in New Mexico since long before European contact. Blue corn has a slightly nutty flavor and is mostly used for flour. It contains more antioxidants, lysine, iron, and zinc than yellow dent corn. Recently, concerns that growing traditional blue corn on Native lands was becoming a thing of the past prompted a partnership between Pueblo farmers and the landrace corn company Masienda. This collaboration resulted in the New Mexico Blue Corn Project, which contracts New Mexico farmers to use locally-adapted, heirloom seeds to grow organic blue corn. Today, diners can taste the project’s blue corn in tortillas at Santa Fe restaurants; and there are hopes for larger yields and wider distribution in the near future. 🐑
Read These
More Indigenous Food: A thoughtful piece by Jenny Dorsey accompanying her kanuchi soup recipe, this made me wonder if changing the name of Thanksgiving to something like “Harvest Fest” (or practically anything at all) would make it easier to get away from the Pilgrim story. Rebranding can be very effective. Many people are incorporating their own food traditions into the feast now, as well as learning more about Native American cultures … as a society, we’re ready for a tweak.
Portuguese Sausage Cranberry Brioche Stuffing: Someone brought this to a potluck I recently attended and it was the star of the feast. I don’t even like stuffing! But I will make this!
A Holiday of One’s Own: Max Falkowitz, who is the bee’s knees, wrote about the personal and public evolutions of “Jewish Christmas.” It is in danger of being co-opted by practitioners of regular-ass Christmas.