Monday, August 29, 2011

Summer Champurrado


The short story is that it's Mexican hot chocolate.  The long story is that it's much more than that.  One of the defining characteristics of champurrado that I've heard is that you should be able to stand a churro up in it.  Let's see you do that with hot chocolate made above the Mason-Dixon line. Not happening.

This recipe came out of my Better Homes and Gardens Ultimate Mexican recipe guide, and if I wasn't so lazy, I probably would've made the churro recipe too. There will always be another Friday.  Turn on the kettle, and make the jump!
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Sooner or later we're going to break down and buy a mortar and pestle.  We've got a spice grinder attachment for the immersion blender, which is pretty much a small food processor.  But when all you need is 1/8th of a teaspoon of something, the device is pretty much just a carnival ride for spices. "Weeeee!" is what the anise seeds say as they come to rest in the bottom of the vessel, a little dizzier than before.  Once you've admitted defeat there, add 1/4 cup masa harina to 2 cups of warm water and whisk it up.  I know, weird.  This drink has built in tortillas.



This is milk.  About 2 cups of it.  And this is me pouring the milk into the watery masa.  Why I have such explicit shots of these things, I have no idea.  Instructions for aliens.


I can't say enough about the Mexican chocolate.  When I'm not turning it into champurrado I'm jamming it as fast as I can right into my mouth.  I'm happy to say that it has now appeared in the international aisle of our local grocery store.  Throw a whole wheel into the pot.
 


Piloncillo.  Three oz.  I just happened to have it kicking around from the last time I used it.  Throw it in along with the anise seeds.   As always, if you don't happen to have piloncillo just laying around like me, make sure you check out my page on sourcing mexican ingredients to figure out where you can adopt your very own cone of sugar.


Apply heat.  10 minutes of heat.  Make sure you whisk it all together and that the piloncillo and chocolate are all melted and mixed in.


Glass it up!  It appears that this is used as a breakfast beverage traditionally but I'm not sure it's going to get that kind of treatment here.  As we move into autumn and the nights start getting a little cooler I can see myself drinking a few of these as a nightcap.  It's rich and earthy and the spices come through only in moderation.  For those who fear the anise and all things black licorice, don't fret.  It doesn't draw too much attention to itself.  Can't wait to try jamming a churro in there.  Next time!

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