Heaven, whatever else it may have going for it, must surely smell of masa, that blessed gift from Mesoamerica to the rest of the world.
Nixtamalized corn–that is, corn that has been treated with lime to make it more digestible–is ground to make the flour used in making so many delicious foods and drinks: tamales, tortillas, pinol (or pinole), tostadas, sopes, gorditas, among others.
Before it’s ground as flour, though, the nixtamalized corn is what we in the English-speaking world usually refer to as hominy. In Mexico, it’s called either pozole (also spelled posole) or cacahuazintle (also spelled cacahuacintle), which refers most often to an heirloom variety of corn known for its large grains.
Fun fact: the “s” and the “z” are pronounced the same in Mexican Spanish, hence the multiple spelling options–and increased chances for spelling errors. Pozole seems to be the preferred spelling in Mexico proper, while posole shows up more often in borderlands recipes.
The words “posole” and “pozole” come, of course, from Nahuatl, the Uto-Aztecan language spoken in various forms from pre-Hispanic times until, well, now. Nahuatl is one of 68 indigenous languages recognized by the Mexican government; at around 2 million speakers, it is the second most commonly spoken language in Mexico after Spanish.
Our modern word pozole comes from the Nahuatl pozolli, which means “frothy” or “boiled.” The translation hints at the pre-Hispanic ritual origins of pozole as a dish made with the boiled flesh of human captives. There are accounts that suggest that these origins account for the popularity of pork in Mexican cuisine, as that meat is said to be an acceptable substitute for human flesh. I am skeptical, however, given that the ritual seems to have been limited to a relatively small group of pre-Hispanic nobles. In addition, pork is hugely popular in Spain–and really tasty, which seem to me to be more important factors in culinary acculturation.
(As I was reading about the origins of pozole, I couldn’t help but think of Carlos Fuentes’s classic meditation on the relationship between past and present in his short story “Chac Mool“; English translation available here.)
Ritual anthropophagy aside, pozole in contemporary Mexico is a beloved dish with multiple regional variations. It’s food for celebration and, much like tamales, it’s food that’s best prepared collectively.
As with the spelling variations, the dish varies from place to place: it’s often made with pork, but sometimes with chicken. Sometimes it’s pozole verde and sometimes posole rojo. And then there’s pozole blanco, a sort of middle way.
Faced with an abundance of green tomatoes and a few tomatillos left over from warmer garden days, my plan is to conscript them into a version of pozole verde, which should be an aromatic way to warm up the kitchen and utilize the remains of a roasted chicken from earlier in the week.
If all the talk of human sacrifice has put you off meat, here are other options for using up green tomatoes:
A note on hominy: Several of these recipes call for canned hominy, which is probably fine, I guess.
I buy dried hominy from Rancho Gordo. With his incomparable poetic wit and copywriting genius, Steve Sando describes the effects of cooking hominy as those of making your entire kitchen “smell like a glorious, delicious wet tortilla.”
The header was downloaded from this site but comes originally from the Florentine Codex, a treatise on the peoples of central Mexico prepared shortly after conquest by the Spanish under the direction of Fray Bernadino de Sahagún. He had evangelization in mind but carried out his work with the help of Nahua researchers. It is both fascinating and heartbreaking.
Pozole is the correct spelling,since the “z” is generally soft in Spanish it sounds similar to Posole that is a spelling deviation mostly found in the US. Pozole is a precolumbian meal that was enjoyed on special ocassions by the mesoamerica inhabitants.
I was once in the lovely town of San Miguel de Allende with a group of fellow gringo tourists. San Miguel is a very unusual town with an exceptionally large ex-pat US population. Or should I say, US immigrant population? Whatever it is, whether you like SMA or not, it’s not very typical. One woman insisted that a bowl of guacamole and chips was a proper way to start a meal in Mexico. I suggested that she may want to start her meal this way, but it’s not all the common, and in fact, I’d never observed Mexicans doing this. She asked the waiter if she could order this and he, of course, brought out a big bowl of chips and guacamole and she turned to me and said, “See! They do this here.” I had to bite my tongue.
Recently on Twitter, the very talented Pati Jinich wrote that she was irked by the word posole. “It is Pozole with a Z!!!! Posole is nothing, nada!! Posole equals not Pozole. Sorry and good night.”, she wrote. Now I admire Patti a lot but I think she got this one wrong, along with many of her enthusiastic followers who were quick to throw posole under the bus.
My response was: “Posole is an old tradition from the US Southwest. It refers to the grain and the final dish. It’s hundreds of years old and to deny this is to deny how indigenous cultures refused to stagnate. ”
I understand that good Mexican food is under siege and its advocates have to stand their ground. How many chefs are discovering tacos and are eager to share their new love (and “interesting” new spins) on food that many of us discovered long ago? The talented Ina Garten created a dish that might be delicious and it might have corn in it, but it’s not pozole by anyone’s standards other than hers. Taco Bell created a snack called a chalupa and it has nothing to do with the well-established Poblano treat that has been called a chalupa for generations. As writer Javier Cabral writes, “Adding black beans and lime juice to things do not automatically make it Mexican.”
In New Mexico, posole refers to both the grain and the final dish. It’s a much more casual ingredient than in Mexico. A bowl of posole in a chile sauce is a common side dish. Huntley Dent says in his seminal book, The Feast of Santa Fe, that the difference between everyday posole and feast-day posole is the amount of pork. Everyday posole is a thing. It’s not Mexican but it’s from the same roots and I think it should be embraced as an example of indigenous cultures adapting, creating, and celebrating nixtamal.
Our modern word pozole comes from the Nahuatl pozolli, which means “frothy” or “boiled.” The translation hints at the pre-Hispanic ritual origins of pozole as a dish made with the boiled flesh of human captives. There are accounts that suggest that these origins account for the popularity of pork in Mexican cuisine, as that meat is said to be an acceptable substitute for human flesh. I am skeptical, however, given that the ritual seems to have been limited to a relatively small group of pre-Hispanic nobles. In addition, pork is hugely popular in Spain–and really tasty, which seem to me to be more important factors in culinary acculturation.
The header was downloaded from this site but comes originally from the Florentine Codex, a treatise on the peoples of central Mexico prepared shortly after conquest by the Spanish under the direction of Fray Bernadino de Sahagún. He had evangelization in mind but carried out his work with the help of Nahua researchers. It is both fascinating and heartbreaking.
If all the talk of human sacrifice has put you off meat, here are other options for using up green tomatoes:
(As I was reading about the origins of pozole, I couldn’t help but think of Carlos Fuentes’s classic meditation on the relationship between past and present in his short story “Chac Mool“; English translation available here.)
Nixtamalized corn–that is, corn that has been treated with lime to make it more digestible–is ground to make the flour used in making so many delicious foods and drinks: tamales, tortillas, pinol (or pinole), tostadas, sopes, gorditas, among others.
Why We Eat: Pozole
FAQ
What’s the difference between posole and pozole?
Is pozole with an S or Z?
What is pozole based on?
Pozole is a traditional Mexican stew defined by its rich, dried chile-infused broth, namesake hominy, and slow-cooked meat–in this case tender cubes of pork shoulder. This recipe is based on one average-sized pork shoulder and makes a large batch, which is great for company or the freezer.
What does pozole mean in Spanish?
Pozole ( Spanish pronunciation: [po’sole]; from Nahuatl languages: pozolli, meaning cacahuazintle, a variety of corn or maize) is a traditional soup or stew from Mexican cuisine.
Is pozole vegetarian?
Pozole can be prepared in many ways, but all variations include a base of cooked hominy in broth. The broth is most commonly made with chicken or pork, but vegetarian preparations exist. When the broth is meat-based, pieces of the meat used to make the broth are usually served in the final dish; vegetarian versions substitute beans for the meat.
Is pozole a Mexican dish?
Like many traditional Mexican dishes, pozole is a corn-based dish often enjoyed across the country during festivities. That said, you may also enjoy it any other day of the year if desired. It’s a stew typically made from meat, vegetables, sauce, broth, and hominy — a corn-based ingredient.