Roberto Santibañez's 'Truly Mexican'For a long time, I did not cook Mexican food. I did not even try. I grew up in New York City in the '80s. People didn't come here for Mexican food. Slim pickings, as my mom would say. Things have improved. In the leaner times, though, trying to make Mexican food myself seemed like a bridge too far. If the restaurants couldn't get it right, how could I? There was also the issue of finding the necessary ingredients, and to be honest, I found the standard cookbooks on the subject stodgy and uninviting. Then I saw "Truly Mexican" and, suddenly, I wanted to cook Mexican food; I felt I could try. I decided to do it for my parents' anniversary dinner. They say it's a bad idea to pick something you've never made for a dinner party — too risky. It's good advice. I bucked it and, following the recipes and notes in this cookbook to the letter, everything came out perfect. You'd think I'd had lots of practice. Written by Mexico City native, chef Roberto Santibañez with food writer JJ Goode, this cookbook is a departure from the "classics" that preceded it because it doesn't use geography as its organizing principle. Instead of underscoring its regional diversity, "my goal is to show you how much the seemingly disparate food has in common," Santibañez explains. "That's why I chose to focus this book not on Mexican street snacks or haute cuisine, but on its condiments and sauces."  | You may be a little confused or concerned by this, wondering what the heck you're supposed to do with a cookbook of "condiments and sauces." Rest assured, it's an ingenious way to bring home cooks into the fold of Mexican cuisine. The thing about these sauces — moles and pipianes, adobos, salsas — and guacamole (it gets a chapter all to itself) is that they can become the base of an entire dish; you use them both as toppings and accents, and (with the exception of the guac) cook meat, seafood or chicken, or enchiladas or chilaquiles in them. Plus, once you learn how to make one of the types of sauces, you can easily take on any of its variations; the basic steps for preparation are the same. But Santibañez's greatest gift to a cook's culinary toolbox might be his guide to working with chiles. In the opening section, he teaches you how to handle the entire gamut of fiery capsicums — to master heat and to grasp the significance of roasting ingredients before adding them to dishes. His cooked salsa verde begins not with the roasting but simmering of jalapeños and tomatillos. It was the first thing in the book I made so I could gently cook tortilla chips in it for Santibañez's killer chilaquiles. And that's how he won me over — to "Truly Mexican" and to making Mexican food.  | Menu | Salsa Verde CocidaThis tart, jalapeño-spiked salsa is so versatile you may not want to waste it on a plain old bag of chips, although you wouldn't be sorry if you did. ChilaquilesHere's what happens when tortilla chips soak up the flavors of homemade salsa without losing their crunch and are generously garnished with cheese.  | Focus on the master class on chiles | The reason this is one of my most-worn cookbooks isn't because I cook so much Mexican food. It's that, because of this book, I started cooking with chiles, and now I add them to all kinds of dishes. And I still turn to the section in Santibañez's book where he lays out every single aspect of working with these peppers and the range of heat and flavor they bring to a dish. There's a chart for fresh varietals and another for dried. There are tips given for roasting (fresh), large or small, on the stove top or in a toaster oven and toasting (dry). He's thought of everything, chile powder included.  | Recipes | Cooked Green Salsa (Salsa Verde Cocida)Santibañez claims this salsa "has a mouth-puckering tang and spicy zip," and he's not lying. It's the tomatillos that give it that tang and its verde. You'll notice they're a bit sticky once their husks come off. Rinse away the (slightly acrid) tackiness by placing them in a bowl of water (you may need to change it a couple of times) and rubbing them with your fingers until they're smooth. You can do loads with this sauce: simmer flavorful meats like pork in it, smother eggs with it in huevos rancheros, bathe enchiladas in it, or make the chilaquiles below. For easy printing and scaling, view this recipe on our website at washingtonpost.com/recipes. IngredientsServings: 4 cups
Active time: 20 minutes
Total time: 45 minutes 2 pounds tomatillos (20 to 24), husked and rinsed
2 fresh jalapeño chiles, stemmed
3 small garlic cloves, peeled
1 teaspoon fine sea salt or 2 teaspoons kosher salt, plus more to taste
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1 tablespoon mild olive oil or vegetable oil StepsPut the tomatillos and jalapeños in a 4- to 5-quart heavy pot with enough water to cover and bring the water to a simmer. Lower the heat and simmer gently, turning the tomatillos and chiles occasionally, until the tomatillos have turned a khaki-green color and are tender, but still intact, about 15 minutes. If necessary, let the tomatillos stand in the pan off the heat for up to 15 minutes more to finish cooking through. Gently drain the tomatillos and jalapeños in a colander, being careful to keep the tomatillos intact. Put the tomatillos, jalapeños, garlic, salt and cumin in the jar of a blender and pulse just until the tomatillos are coarsely chopped. Add the cilantro and blend until the sauce is smooth and flecked with cilantro (the tomatillo seeds should still be visible). Be careful when you're blending hot ingredients: Vent the lid and cover it with a kitchen towel, and hold the top firmly in place with your hand. Work in batches to avoid blending with a full jar. Wipe the pot clean, add the oil and heat it over medium heat until it shimmers. Carefully pour the salsa into the oil (it may splatter) and bring it to a simmer. As it's simmering, swish a little water around the blender jar and add it to the pot. Simmer gently until slightly thickened, about 10 minutes. Transfer the salsa to a heatproof 4-cup measuring cup and add water (if necessary) until you have 4 cups of salsa. It should still be thick enough to coat the back of a spoon. Season to taste with additional salt. Nutritional facts (per half cup): Calories: 60; Protein: 1 g; Carbohydrates: 7 g; Fat: 3 g; Saturated Fat: 0 g; Cholesterol: 0 mg; Sodium: 297 mg; Fiber: 2 g; Sugar: 5 g. ChilaquilesChilaquiles repurpose stale (not, like, super stale, though) chips and turn them into one of the great breakfasts, or the most popular side dish at a brunch gathering. They're especially great when served with a helping of eggs, but don't limit them to mornings. Santibañez tops his with sliced chicken or steak for dinner. Red salsa probably seems like the obvious choice for the base, and for good reason: it's undeniably delicious. I prefer green by a hair, maybe because it's less expected. Either way, you can't lose. Just make sure you don't use the jarred stuff, please. Note: If you use store-bought chips, don't salt your sauce as aggressively as you would otherwise. For easy printing and scaling, view this recipe on our website at washingtonpost.com/recipes. IngredientsServings: 2
Total time: 15 minutes (not including making chips and salsa) 2 cups Cooked Green Salsa (see above)
1 cup water
2 to 3 sprigs epazote (optional)
Kosher salt
8 to 9 ounces tortilla chips, good-quality store-bought (about 64 chips)
1/3 cup finely chopped white onion
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro
1/2 cup (1½ to 2 ounces) crumbled queso fresco or ricotta salata
2 tablespoons Mexican crema, crème fraîche or sour cream thinned slightly with water, for drizzling StepsBring the sauce, water and epazote (if using) to a boil in a 2-quart heavy pot over high heat, stirring occasionally. Reduce the heat and let the mixture simmer gently for 5 minutes. Discard the epazote sprig. Season to taste with salt. Add the chips to the pot and cook, shaking the pan or stirring gently to coat the chips, until the chips have absorbed some of the sauce but are still crunchy, about 2 minutes. Transfer the chips to a platter or divide among plates and garnish with onion, cilantro, queso fresco and crema. Serve immediately. Nutritional facts (per serving): Calories: 770; Protein: 15 g; Carbohydrates: 93 g; Fat: 38 g; Saturated Fat: 6 g; Cholesterol: 15 mg; Sodium: 1,326 mg; Fiber: 11 g; Sugar: 13 g. Join our virtual cookbook club! Chat about the books, ask questions and share your creations by joining the Essential Cookbooks Facebook group here, and show others you've joined the club by posting your recipe photos on Instagram using #voraciouslycookbooks. Have a question?Email us at voraciously@washpost.com or message @eatvoraciously on Instagram. Charlotte Druckman is a journalist and food writer. She conceived and edited the collection "Women on Food" and is the author of "Skirt Steak: Women Chefs on Standing the Heat" and "Staying in the Kitchen." In addition, she has written two cookbooks — "Stir, Sizzle, Bake: Recipes for Your Cast-Iron Skillet" and "Kitchen Remix: 75 Recipes for Making the Most of Your Ingredients," and co-wrote chef Anita Lo's "Cooking Without Borders." She lives in New York City. Find her on Instagram (@chardrucks) or Twitter (@cettedrucks). Photos by Justin Tsucalas; food styling by Nichole Bryant; props by Limonata Creative; illustrations by Louisa Cannell, all for The Washington Post. | 
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