The Bird Is the Word

[turkey with mole negro]

Maria de Jesus Monterrubio has just moved into a new house on Mount Olympus in Laurel Canyon. The marble front hall is crowned with a crystal chandelier. There are two sitting rooms, one more formal, the other lined with beautifully framed photos of her five children. Relaxed in a ponytail and jeans, Maria has come a long way since arriving in Los Angeles in 1994, when she spoke no English and cleaned houses to help make ends meet. Her husband, Fernando Lopez, had come from Mexico the year before to open a restaurant with his sister. They called it Guelaguetza, which is a Zapotec word meaning “offering.” Maria more specifically defines it as “I help you, you help me.”

Guelaguetza now has three locations and is known far and wide for the most authentic moles north of Oaxaca, where Maria and Fernando were born. The couple run the two Koreatown restaurants, and Fernando’s sister manages the one on the Westside. The restaurants are important gathering spots for many of the city’s Oaxacan community, which some estimate at about 200,000.

Mole is from the Aztec word mulli, which means sauce, and it has been a distinctive Mexican tradition for at least three centuries. Oaxacans prepare seven moles, and each has a season and a place on the festival calendar. Cooks such as Maria learn to make moles from the time they can walk, and the sauces are a living, breathing part of their culture.

Of all the moles, mole negro is the most festive. “This is the one we use for special celebrations and holidays,” Maria says, and this year she’s serving it with turkey. She learned to make her grandmother’s mole when she was a child. It’s something “every woman makes,” she says. One of Maria’s daughters, 13-year-old Elizabeth, hangs around listening while cradling a tiny poodle. She shyly admits that she does not yet know how to make mole. One suspects that it’s simply a matter of time.

But woe to the home cook who tries to duplicate Maria’s mole negro--it takes five hours and requires ingredients you must go to Oaxaca to get. Maria seeds the chiles, then roasts and purees them. She roasts garlic and onion; she toasts almonds, peanuts, cinnamon, black pepper, cloves, sesame seeds, oregano, thyme, raisins and the seeds from the chiles. She fries a plantain. She sautes tomatoes and tomatillos. She blends stuff, fries more stuff, adds juices from the turkey, and stirs in discs of chocolate.

Fortunately, there is a shortcut. You can buy Maria’s mole negro paste at Guelaguetza--because, Lord knows, you’ve got enough to do over the holidays.

*

[garam masala game hens]

When she was 19, Mira Advani entered into an arranged marriage and left her native Bombay for Los Angeles. The marriage produced two children, then broke up after nine years. But Mira was here to stay. Now, more than 30 years and one spouse later, she and her second husband, Hollywood Reporter film critic Kirk Honeycutt, live in a stately 1908 Craftsman house in Arlington Heights with a mountain lion-sized cat named Shiva that wears a perpetually startled look--as if he can’t believe his good luck.

Mira is a writer, an experienced cook and an expert on wines of the Central Coast, a region she adores for “the sense of free spirit in the winemakers” and for their “willingness to explore new territories in planting and in doing different blends.” Chronicle Books will publish her book, “The Ultimate Guide to Central Coast: From Santa Ynez Valley to Paso Robles,” in 2007.

This year she has decided to prepare game hens--”such a manageable bird,” she says--with a homemade garam masala paste that is well worth the effort. Garam masala is a relatively simple combination of classic Indian spices such as cardamom pods and cumin seeds that are roasted and then finely ground. Lemon juice, yogurt, garlic and ginger are added to make a paste that is much more than the sum of its parts. Mira rubs it over and under the skin of the delicate birds, which become tender and perfumed while roasting. They make an exceptionally elegant dish when paired with her butternut squash, which is festively specked with mustard and fenugreek seeds and lightly frosted with coconut. She plates the game hens on a rice pulao suffused with saffron and cardamom.

Mira will serve the game hens with a Syrah, which can match the spices. She recommends one from the Santa Rita Hills, such as Samsara, Curran or Melville, or from Santa Ynez’s Beckmen Vineyards. If a blend is preferred, she recommends L’Aventure’s Optimus, from Paso Robles.

Most of the year Mira favors vegetarian cooking. The traditional Indian new year, called Diwali, or the festival of lights, is usually celebrated in late October or early November and is her big fall celebration. “It’s a harvest celebration much as is Thanksgiving,” she says, but it’s “all about the vegetables,” which she serves in steel bowls on a thali, or tray. After dinner, her guests sit on the floor and play three-card Indian poker. For Thanksgiving, though, she usually makes a traditional turkey for her mother-in-law, who lives in Pasadena. Last year, following a Martha Stewart recipe, she soaked cheesecloth in white wine and butter, rubbed the turkey with it, then left it on the bird as it roasted. The cheesecloth caught fire.

“Not the best recipe I’ve ever tried,” she says.

*

[roast goose]

After 36 years of marriage, Angelika and Hanns Hederer have the timing of a well-oiled vaudeville act, albeit a German, blond and exceptionally handsome one. When she starts to answer a visitor’s question, his booming voice chimes in over hers. She patiently waits for him to finish interrupting and picks up right where she left off, often to the syllable. No one gets ruffled.

The Hederer house in Brentwood is one of those open, sunny California houses bespeaking comfort and privacy and seemingly made for entertaining, with an ample patio outlined with rosemary plants, lemon and olive trees and a lovely Spanish-tiled pool. For the holidays, the Hederers like to make roast goose, the festive bird of their German childhoods.

Angelika was born in Berlin at the end of the war; Hanns was born in Augsburg in 1938 and lived in Frankfurt until the family’s apartment was bombed in 1944. They eventually settled outside Munich. The couple met in 1968 in New York, where both had immigrated.

When they were children, goose was always the Christmas meal, even in the lean and chaotic years after the war. “It was a family affair; you didn’t invite friends like you do here,” recalls Angelika. “Every family had their own distinct way of preparing it.”

“Not my father,” says Hanns. “My father was a gourmet cook, and every year he would experiment. It relaxed him. I watched him in the kitchen; you never knew what he would do to the goose.”

The couple do agree on the proper way to roast a goose, which they prepare for friends and family on Thanksgiving and Christmas. “During the war, we didn’t know what we were going to eat day to day,” says Hanns, and the Hederers make a point of using all of the goose’s organs. The neck and stomach are put in a pan with onions, salt and pepper (as well as some of the goose fat and its juice) and cooked down for hours to make a gravy for the potato dumplings that are served as a side dish. Hanns muses, “Here, you eat the best parts and the rest goes into cold cuts.” Says Angelika: “I don’t eat cold cuts. I know what’s in them.”

Cooking goose, like duck, presents an extra challenge--you must remove or render the layer of fat beneath the skin. For the Hederers, goose fat is an added bonus. They stuff the goose with certain ingredients to ensure the right flavor in the fat, which they collect as the bird cooks. They use it not only for their dumpling gravy but also for their red cabbage. They also spread it on toasted black bread.

“Here, you would just dump it in the trash,” Hanns says. Adds Angelika, “It’s still difficult for us to see even bread thrown ... “ but before she can finish, he’s on to another goose subject. “You never really go out to a restaurant for goose,” he says. “You have to eat it right after it’s done.” She: “Yes, but remember that time in Dusseldorf? When we went to that restaurant to eat the mussels?” He: “Yes, that goose was terrible in Dusseldorf.” Take note: If you’re going to eat goose, roast it yourself. And never, ever order it in Dusseldorf.

*

[chicken & seafood gumbo]

When Angelle de Lavallade was growing up in East Los Angeles, her mother “always had a pot on. We fed everybody,” she says over a plate of eggs scrambled with shrimp and spicy sausage and a puddle of creamy grits. A typical Sunday breakfast at her mother’s house included fried fish, grits, eggs and biscuits with quince or grape jelly--”nothing out of a can.” No wonder the family was so popular with the neighbors.

Thanksgiving was always a Creole American feast. Angelle’s parents, both Louisiana-born, set what must have been a groaning table, with prime rib, ham, turkey with cranberry sauce, corn bread or oyster dressing, rice, potato salad, sweet potato pie, peach cobbler, pound cake and ice cream. But her favorite part was the first course: a steaming pot of gumbo. “That’s what Creole people do,” she explains.

Angelle, whose nickname is the Creole Contessa, has a warm, nurturing presence, which suits her penchant for making sure no one leaves her house hungry. This year she is serving gumbo as the main course for the holidays. Her gumbo is a bounty, a chicken-based broth enriched with what she calls “the trinity”--celery, onions and parsley--and made thick with a deep brown roux. Angelle says you must get it as dark as possible without burning it. If you burn it, “you have to throw it out.”

Angelle’s broth is then flavored with an abundance of shrimp, hot sausage, ham, crab and chicken wings. There are no greens in the gumbo, but you can add okra if you like. Oysters are another option for an extra holiday touch. As for side dishes, she serves good French bread on which she spreads butter mashed with garlic and grated Parmesan and a little cayenne and finely chopped parsley.

Angelle contents herself by teaching cooking at Sur la Table, developing a salad dressing she’s bringing to market next year, selling real estate and, of course, feeding friends, relatives or anyone who happens to drop by her house in West Los Angeles. She also offers such sage advice as: “Never feed a man before you make love to him. Feed him after.”

*

Maria’s Mole Negro

Makes 3 1/4 cups

1 pound mole negro paste*

1 pound Roma tomatoes, seeded and diced

2 1/2 cups chicken broth, divided

2 1/4-inch slices challah or Oaxacan egg bread, dried

1 tablet Mexican or Oaxacan chocolate, finely grated and dissolved in 1/2 cup hot water

2 tablespoons sugar

Salt to taste

Put the mole paste in a medium saucepan. In a separate saucepan, cook the tomatoes over medium heat until softened. Then put the tomatoes in a blender and puree. Strain to remove any remaining seeds and add to the mole paste. Add 2 cups of the chicken broth to the mole. Cook for 15 minutes, then check the consistency. Place the bread in the blender with 1/2 cup of the chicken broth and blend until smooth. Add very slowly to the mole until it is creamy. Add the melted chocolate and the sugar. After 5 more minutes, add salt to taste. Cook on low heat for about 45 minutes, stirring occasionally.

*Mole paste and Oaxacan chocolate are available at Guelaguetza, 3014 W. Olympic Blvd., Los Angeles, (213) 427-0608, and 3337 1/2 W. 8th St., Los Angeles, (213) 427-0601.

*

Mira’s Masala Cornish Hens

Serves 2

2 Cornish game hens

1 tablespoon plain yogurt

1 teaspoon fresh garlic paste, see below

1 teaspoon fresh ginger paste, see below

1 tablespoon garam masala, see below

1 1/2 tablespoons lemon juice

1 whole lemon

Salt and pepper to taste

1 to 2 teaspoons extra-virgin olive oil for drizzling

The garlic and ginger pastes can be made ahead of time. Peel and roughly chop a 2-inch piece of ginger with a few drops of water in a mini-blender. Repeat the step with 3 cloves of garlic. These pastes can be stored in the refrigerator for as long as two weeks.

Heat the oven to 350 degrees. Wash the hens and pat dry. Trim the excess fat from around the neck and bottom. In a bowl, mix the yogurt, garlic paste, ginger paste, garam masala, lemon juice, salt and pepper. Rub the mixture all over the hens and place a little under the breast skin. Cut the lemon in two and place one half inside each hen’s cavity. Place the hens in an uncovered roasting pan and bake for 60 to 65 minutes, or until done. Baste with the juices several times during cooking.

*

Garam Masala

2 tablespoons black peppercorns

1 teaspoon whole cloves

12 black cardamom pods (shelled, about 1 1/2 tablespoons seeds)

24 green cardamom pods (shelled, about 11/2 teaspoons seeds)

1 4-inch cinnamon stick

2 tablespoons cumin seeds

8 dried red chiles

1 teaspoon mace

1 teaspoon freshly ground nutmeg

Roast the whole spices and seeds in a nonstick pan over medium heat until fragrant (several minutes). Keep stirring so they do not burn. Remove from the heat and let cool. Grind the roasted spices in a spice or coffee grinder until fine. Add the mace and nutmeg to the blend. Mix well. Store in a jar.

*

Sweet and Spicy Butternut Squash

Serves 6

2 tablespoons olive oil

1 teaspoon mustard seeds

1 teaspoon fenugreek seeds

1 dried red chile

4 cups butternut squash, peeled and cut into 1-inch cubes

1 medium sweet onion, finely chopped

1 teaspoon grated ginger

4 cloves

1 1-inch cinnamon stick

1/4 teaspoon red chile powder, optional

Salt to taste

1 tablespoon brown sugar

1/2 cup water

Juice of 1 lemon

2 tablespoons unsweetened coconut powder

2 tablespoons sliced almonds

Cilantro leaves for garnish

Heat the oil in a wok or large saute pan over medium heat. Add the mustard seeds and cover. As they start to pop (it will take less than a minute, so be careful not to burn them), uncover and add the fenugreek seeds and dried red chile. Add the squash, onion, grated ginger, cloves, cinnamon stick, red chile powder, salt and brown sugar. Mix well. Add the water, reduce the heat, cover and cook for 10 to 12 minutes, or until the squash is tender. Remove the cinnamon stick, red chile and cloves. Sprinkle with lemon juice and stir well. Garnish with the coconut powder and almonds.

*

Hanns and Angelika’s Roast Goose

Serves 5 to 6

1 10- to 12-pound goose

Salt and freshly ground pepper

Stuffing

2 pippin apples, peeled, cored and chopped

2 cups chopped celery and leaves

1 cup chopped onion

1/4 cup chopped parsley

Gravy

1 cup red wine

1 cup chicken broth or consomme

1 cup water

Reserved goose neck and giblets

1/3 cup chopped carrots

1 cup chopped onion

6 peppercorns

1 teaspoon salt

1 bay leaf

1 clove

1 tablespoon reserved goose fat

1 tablespoon butter

1 tablespoon flour

1 tablespoon red wine

Parsley sprigs for garnish

Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Rinse the goose with cold water and pat dry. Reserve the neck and giblets. Season well with salt and pepper inside and out. Stuff the goose with the apples, celery, onion and parsley. Close the opening with several small metal skewers. Grease a metal rack and place inside a shallow roasting pan. Place the goose breast side down on the rack and bake for 1 hour. Turn the goose over and continue to roast for another hour.

While the goose is roasting, put all of the ingredients for the gravy, up to and including the clove, in a medium saucepan and slowly bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer for about 45 minutes. Strain and reserve the stock.

After the goose has roasted for 2 hours, remove from the oven and carefully pour out all the fat. Reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees. Roast the goose for another 1/2 hour to an hour, or until the internal temperature of the stuffing reaches 180 degrees. Baste the goose with some of the reserved stock once during this time.

Remove the goose from the oven, place on a preheated serving platter and cover loosely with foil. Take 1 tablespoon of the goose fat from the pan and add it with the butter to a medium saucepan. Heat until melted, then whisk in the flour and red wine. Cook for several minutes, then stir in the remaining stock. Simmer until thickened slightly. Serve in a gravy boat. Carve the goose, discarding the fruit and vegetables. Garnish with parsley sprigs and serve.

*

Angelle’s Real Creole Gumbo

Serves 10

3 quarts chicken broth, homemade or canned

2 bay leaves

2 turkey necks

3 pounds medium shrimp, cleaned and deveined, reserve shells

10 chicken wings

3 tablespoons olive oil, divided

3 bunches green onions, finely chopped

1 1/2 large white onions, finely chopped

6 whole Louisiana hot-link sausages (12 ounces), cut into bite-size pieces

1 16-ounce package smoked sausage links, cut into bite-size pieces

1 1/2 slices smoked ham, 1/2-inch thick, cut into bite-size pieces

2 stalks celery, finely chopped

1 green bell pepper, finely chopped

1 bunch fresh parsley, finely chopped

1/2 head fresh garlic, peeled and finely chopped

2 tablespoons dried thyme

5 large King crab legs, cut into 3-inch pieces

3 Dungeness crabs, cleaned and quartered, or 8 blue crabs, cleaned and cut in half

Salt and pepper to taste

20 oysters, optional

Tabasco sauce

File

If using canned chicken broth, add it to an 8 quart or larger stockpot and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat, add the bay leaves and keep warm.

In a smaller pot, cover the turkey necks with water, add salt and bring to a boil. Reduce the heat and simmer until cooked, then strain and remove the meat from the bones. Add the meat to the stockpot and discard the bones.

In a separate pot, cover the shrimp shells with water, bring to a boil and cook for 10 minutes. Strain and add the liquid to the stockpot. Discard the shells. Season the chicken wings with salt and pepper. Add 1 tablespoon olive oil to a skillet and lightly brown the wings. Set aside.

In a large skillet, heat 2 tablespoons of olive oil. Add the green onions, white onions, hot and smoked sausage, ham, celery, bell pepper, parsley, garlic and thyme. Saute until the vegetables are limp. Add to the stockpot and cook on medium heat while preparing the roux.

*

Roux

1/4 cup vegetable oil

1/2 cup flour

1 cup gumbo stock

Add the oil to a medium-sized skillet over medium heat. When the oil is hot, add the flour. Whisk continuously until the mixture becomes dark brown. Remove from the heat and add 1 cup of stock from the gumbo pot. Whisk until it is loose enough to add to the gumbo pot. The roux should give the gumbo some body, but it should not be thick. Add more roux if needed.

Bring the gumbo pot to a boil; reduce the heat and simmer for 30 minutes. Add the browned chicken wings and cook for 20 minutes. Add the shrimp and crab. Cook long enough for the shrimp to turn pink, about 10 to 15 minutes. Add the oysters, if desired, and cook 5 minutes. Serve in a bowl over hot cooked rice. Sprinkle with hot sauce and gumbo file, if desired.