Mexican porky goodness

The Mexican theme continues...Neil and I have begun a quest to lunch at every Mexican place within striking distance. A couple of weeks ago we ate at Taqueria - and a fabulous lunch it was. Annoyingly, they wouldn't let me take photos. I was mildly cross at the start of the meal and even crosser by the end, because the food was so good. I kicked off with Callos al mojo de ajo - garlicky scallops with chipotle and avacado mash - which was seriously good. But Neil had hit the jackpot with his choice of Cochinita pibil - slow-cooked pork with achiote and citrus juice and pickled pink onions. One bite and I was having one of those 'ohmygodwhatisTHAT??' moments when your palate lands on something new and heavenly and tantalising. After scanning the menu again, I guessed it was the achiote seeds that were the key ingrediant. Luckily the people who run Taqueria also run the Cool Chile Company, and the restuarant sells ingrediants. So I headed back to work with a tin of the special seeds.

Rick Bayless has become my authority on serious Mexican nosh, and he didn't let me down with a recipe for pibil that called for quite a lot of work for a fine reward. There's one version of his recipe here, although it's a bit different from the one I used from his book Mexican Kitchen. First, take your spices. That's the achiote seeds, brick red and just as hard, black pepper, allspice and oregano, and whizz them to a powder. Smash some garlic with salt and add...then add some cider vinegar to create a paste.

Then add orange and lime juice to the paste, and insert your pork shoulder joint to marinate for at least four hours.

Then it's into the oven at around gas mark 3 for several hours - it's the tenderness that's part of the dish. Then you can get on with the pink pickled onions.

Simply steep sliced red onion in boiling water for a minute, then add a spice mix of black pepper, cumin and oregano to the drained onions and add garlic and cider vinegar. Stow in the fridge while the scent of achiote fills the house. Three hours later and the pork is ready.

The joint will now be falling apart, which is fine, because you're after that north American pulled meat thing. Gently shred the pork and reserve the achiote liquid from the bottom of the pan.

Then you can compose your meal. I put some of the pork into a warmed tortilla, poured over some of the basting juice and topped with the day-glo onion. Sides were refried beans with sour cream, grated Manchego and tomatilla salso, together with some un-Mexican but delicious runner beans from my allotment. A feast! This pork is so good.

So thank you Rick and thank you Tanqueria - and I hope you'll let me take photos next time.

Viva Mexico

Now that I'm working over in west London, one of my favourite lunch haunts is Wahaca, the Mexican canteena founded by the lovely Tommi Miers, winner of Masterchef a couple of years back. I knew nothing about real Mexican food (except that I love what Wahaca serve up), so I snapped up Tommi's book when it came out, and I'm now suffering from a severe refried beans addiction. Can't stop making them, can't stop eating them.

Refried beans are actually well cooked beans. Speckled pinto beans are an option, but I adore black turtle beans. I tip the dried beans into a big bowl and cover them with just-boiled water for a couple of hours. Then they go into a saucepan with a halved onion, a couple of bay leaves, four cloves of garlic, a handful of thyme and, if you can get it, some epazote, a Mexican herb that loves beans. After a couple of hours, the beans are soft and starting to shed their skins. At this point, I turn off the heat and add a tablespoonful of salt.

Another way to go is to buy the excellent Cool Chile Company's Black Bean kit, which I tracked down at their Borough market stall, or you can order it online. Cool Chile have epazote and chile de arbol in their kit, and also include the brick-coloured smoked paprika, which has become an essential ingrediant for my refrieds.

Once your beans are soft, it's time to fry some chopped onion and garlic in lard (yes, lard - first time I've bought it in ages), then add the beans and the paprika. Tommi recommends using a stick blender but I go with the more primative potato masher to get the beans into a delicious mashed mush.

Now you're ready to assemble the beans for eating - often in warmed corn tortillas but in this dressed-down version, with crumbled Lancashire cheese, chipoltle salsa, chopped coriander and sour cream.

It looks murky. It tastes delicious. Your refried beans will last for five days in the fridge - perfect for a working week of quick and tasty suppers.

At the front of June, when it was cold and utterly unsummery, I cooked up Tommi's unMexican but delicious chile with meat. Except I used stewing steak from Muck and Magic rather than the larger cut that Tommi recommends. The spice and herb mix is the key here: cumin, allspice, cinnamon, bay and oregano combine with my idiosyncratic addition of a deseeded ancho chile, together with cider vinegar, ketchup and brown sugar to make a stunning sauce for the meat. It went into the oven for a long, slow cook, then I left it for overnight so that the meat was incredibly tender.

Wonderful. Now, where are tonight's refried beans?