Thanksgiving in my house means mole rojo. If I spread it out over a few days, it’s not quite so overwhelming. Chiles are seeded, ready to fry. Pan y tortillas dried, ready to fry. Sesame seeds and chile seeds and avocado leaves toasted and ground with bay leaves and cinnamon and cloves and peppercorns and thyme and marjoram, and avocado pit grated over it all. Ya huele a mole, says my husband. Also, it smells like the tortas de papa his mother makes.
(Please note the avocado tree growing in the pit.)
Tomorrow I fry. Chiles and tortillas and bread and tomatoes and tomatillos and peanuts and almonds and pepitas and raisins and garlic and onion. Oh My!
This week is the Kid’s birthday week – he is 9 on Sunday next. Tomorrow (besides frying), I’m taking the Kid and his friend to Crissy Field to fly kites. And find lunch somewhere.
(Today I played with photo effects. Why not? They’re not great photos on the iphone with poor light. Now they’re fun photos!)
First time I’ve seen your blog, Gwen. I love it, particularly the way you’ve organized the categories, which, if you don’t mind, I may use as a model if I ever get around to starting mine. And I can almost smell the red mole.