Here in southern Mexico nopal cactus is part of the landscape. It is good to eat, too. Very nutritious, high in vitamin C, experts say it has other health benefits like reducing cholesterol, controlling diabetes, and preventing hangovers.
Plus, it’s that stunning visual treat of Green, White and Red, symbolic of Mexico and her flag.
Since I live in the campo, nopal cactus is abundant. A friend brings me a small package of baby-size paddles periodically and I also buy them in the village market. I just planted some Opuntia ficus-indica next to the casita. You stick the mature paddle about 2″ into the earth and it becomes a fence or sustenance.
I sometimes add Julienne or diced nopal to a vegetable soup stock for flavor and thickening. It has a consistency like okra. The process I use below gets rid of the slime.
I call this Nopal Ceviche because the cactus is “cooked” in salt and lime juice. No heat necessary. In fact, this way, the nopal retains its crunchiness and healthfulness. Believe me, you will love it. The trick is to find small nopal paddles in the U.S. I’m lucky. I get mine already de-spined and cleaned.
Mexican Flag Nopal Cactus Salad or Nopal Ceviche
- 15-20 small cactus paddles, about 4″ long and 2″ wide
- 3 large plum tomatoes
- 4-6 young onions, small
- 3 cloves garlic
- 2 T. sea salt
- juice of one large lime
- 1/4 c. EVOO (extra virgin olive oil)
- optional: 3 T. diced cilantro and the flesh of 1 small avocado, diced
Nopal cactus paddles: First slice the paddles lengthwise into approx. 1/2″ cuts. Then, cut crosswise into 3/8″ to 1/2″ dices. You should have about 1-1/2 C. of diced nopal. Put into bowl. Sprinkle with sea salt. Set aside for 20-30 minutes.
Tomatoes, Onions, Garlic: Wash and clean the tomatoes. (Here in Oaxaca, I clean tomatoes, and all vegetables, by immersing them in a bowl of purified water into which I have added three sprays of biodegradable anti-bacterial disinfectant.) Dice tomatoes using a serrated knife into 3/8 to 1/2″ pieces. Add to a second bowl. Keep the juice. Dice onions to same size. Add to tomatoes. Gently smash the garlic cloves with side of a chef’s knife or Chinese cleaver. Peel skin. Dice into 1/8″ cuts. Add to this tomato/onion mixture. Set aside.
Rinsing the Nopal: Here in Oaxaca, in fact all of Mexico, we use purified bottled water. I use this to rinse the nopal after it has “cooked” in the salt. You won’t have to do this in the U.S. I add water to the nopal, stir, and pour the water out through a colander. I do this 4 times until the thick, mucous-like water begins to run clear and thin. Shake the colander to release all the liquid. If you wish, pat the nopal dry with a paper towel.
Combining Ingredients: In a large bowl, combine the rinsed nopal with the tomatoes, onions, and garlic. Toss. Add the fresh squeezed lime juice. If you want it less tart, reduce the amount of juice. Taste. Add more salt if needed. Add olive oil, and stir. Now, you can add the cilantro and avocado, if you like.
Refrigerate until ready to serve. Will hold for 24 hours covered in the refrigerator.
Serve with fresh tortillas or crispy tortilla chips.
Serves 6.
Modest Organ with Big Sound: San Jeronimo Tlacochahuaya, Oaxaca
San Jeronimo Tlacochahuaya, Oaxaca is an agricultural town. Farmers grow organic crops throughout the seasons: corn, squash, runner beans, garlic, garbanzos, flowers, and alfalfa. Mostly, Tlacochahuaya is renowned for its 1678 Baroque organ housed on the balcony above the 16th century gilded Dominican church sanctuary. It is a historic treasure.
It is eleven o’clock Sunday morning and mass does not begin here until eight o’clock tonight. The circuit priest, who is based here and lives in the cloister, makes his rounds to serve nine villages in the Tlacolula Valley, serving mass at various times during the day.
Moises Garcia Guzman and organist Soledad Hernandez Mendez invited us to see and hear this beautiful instrument. To get there, we climb a narrow, steep-stepped, stone stairway that winds from first floor to second. I remember similar in Rome and Paris, dark, damp and eerie. The steps spiral from the interior wall like an accordion.
He describes the instrument as a modest organ with a big sound. Moises, born and raised in Tlacochahuaya (say..T-Lah-Koh-Chah-Why-Ya), lives in Los Angeles and works in the high-tech industry. A speaker of Zapotec, Spanish and English, he has dreams to return home to teach. He loves this place, and I see why.
Moises explains the church and organ history as we stand under the dome in the center of the space. The organ sounds echo, reverberate from walls and ceiling, penetrate through me as if I am a porous receptacle, wrap me in comfort. The space is filled with so much sound that I cannot hear the words others are speaking just a few feet away from me. It is ethereal and meditative. I am reminded of Bach and Pachelbel. Soledad makes the ivory keys dance.
Known as an Organo Iberico, the organ was built in Oaxaca with Puebla influences. It has carderitas — big hips that flare, says Moises. It was constructed this way to contain the bellows. First built as a portable organ, the bellow controls were later moved from the side to the front when it was given its permanent place here. The organ was fully restored in 1995. The painting is exquisite.
The church is undergoing continuous restoration. We are surrounded by frescoes, most of which have been renewed. Yet back in the cloister and in some corners of the church, I see originals, shadows of their once prominent beauty faded, yet still glorious in design and remnants of color.
We sit on the adobe half-wall of the cloister. One priest still lives here. Once, this was the center of Dominican Catholicism for the entire valley. Though the town is smaller than many that surround it today, Tlacochahuaya retains its prominence as the the regional parish. After the conquest, it was the center of Spanish priestly and aristocratic life. Crumbling haciendas and a coat of arms given to Tlacochahuaya by the Spanish attest to the glory days.
Moises and linguist Brook Lillehaugen talk about the influence of Fray Juan de Cordoba, who lived here in the cloister, translated Zapotec to Spanish, and created a dictionary. There were many priests who translated and made dictionaries, she says, but none compare to the one by Fray Juan de Cordova.
As we complete the church visit and before we walk to lunch, we stop to look at the edifice of stone construction. See the metate embedded into the wall. See the Danzante carved stone there, too. The church was built from stones taken from the Zapotec temple at Dainzu.
Yet, the original Zapotec religion survived, was adapted, hidden in the iconography of the crucifixion and the new religion. Moises points to the figure of Jesus on the Cross (above left). Do you see the face of corn goddess there on his chest? he asks. How his ribs look like ears of corn? The figure was sculpted by locals and worshipped by the faithful. They say the priests never knew.
In 1926, Southern Baptist missionaries came to Tlacochahuaya to establish a foothold in the region and built a now decaying adobe sanctuary. Today, religious beliefs are diverse and many Christians of various denominations live side-by-side with the predominantly Catholic population in towns throughout the valley.
Like this:
2 Comments
Posted in Cultural Commentary, Oaxaca Mexico art and culture, Photography, Travel & Tourism
Tagged Baroque, church, Dominican, Mexico, music, Oaxaca, organ, religion, Tlacochahuaya