The Day of the Dead is truly a holiday for food lovers.


For me it's when the sun starts to get lower.

Once the sun starts to melt closer to the southern horizon, I finally get that cozy fall feeling. I know my favorite harvests are underway as the shadows grow longer and a little colder. He also notes that the Day of the Dead is near.

Here at Food, Day of the Dead is one of our favorite times of year. The holiday offers a perfect time to reset as we approach the holidays, when we start cooking and gathering with the people we love well into December (or January and February for those who are hardcore with the rest of the syncretist). traditional festivals that complete winter in Mexico).

As Paola Briseño-González writes in his moving essay As a central element of our coverage this year, the Day of the Dead is a time to reflect on the borders that separate and unite us, through life and death, but also on man-made borders and the distances of our countries of origin. It offers two new recipes for dishes that would look majestic in any offering: a mixiote, one of my favorite delicacies from central Mexico, which includes meat in a marinade that is steamed over low heat on parchment paper and unwrapped like a gift when serving; and a tropical-style capirotada, with an emphasis on guavas and apricots for a coastal version of a hot bread pudding that I remember so fondly from my childhood visits to my aunts and grandmothers in Tijuana.

In Long Beach, at the epicenter of a new California sweet bread movement, Gusto Bread, associate editor Betty Hallock meticulously documents The delicious bread of the dead from owner and baker Arturo Enciso, which should always be present in any Day of the Dead dish. Intimidating to some (raises hand), making that fluffy, citrusy bun with “bones” on the crown is a ritual in itself.

I'm making Briseño's Muertos recipe from last year, their tropical mole with guavas and sweet potato over crispy chicken. To warm us up while we build our offering, we will drink my homemade punch, with autumn fruits and a strong touch of rum and brandy. It's a more Christmassy drink but I'm already craving it. (Here's a punch recipe from Bricia López, written by Jonathan Gold.)

Dead is a moment of reflection, but you can also make it fun. I fondly remember many times a friend in Mexico City would invite a group of us to eat freshly baked slices of pan de muerte, often in variations of dough or fruit as toppings, or in vegan form. These gatherings are often accompanied by sips of mezcal, frothy Mexican hot chocolate spiced with cinnamon, and hours of lively conversation.

scroll to top