It's Not Just Lamb and Cider

Cordero A La Sidra

Lamb In Cider Sauce

Ingredients:
2 cloves garlic
3 tablespoons corn oil
pinch of ground cloves
pinch of ground cinnamon
pinch of black pepper
2 1/4 lb boneless lamb, diced
1 tsp all-purpose flour (I used 2 tablespoons rice flour)
4 1/4 cups hard dry apple cider
3 tablespoons butter or lard
9 scallions (spring onions), chopped
7 oz chorizo, shredded, or finely chopped
2 1/4 cups beef stock
5 tablespoons slivered (flaked) almonds, toasted, to serve
chopped parsley, to serve
sea salt
A tiny hint of doubt about whether you’re doing this whole thing right

~

I’ve been trying to figure out what being Mexican means to me for quite a few years now.

When I describe this to people, I mostly say that I feel like I grew up Mexican-adjacent. Most things in my world were decidedly white, including my skin, even though I knew that wasn’t the whole story. I remember asking my dad which box I should check on the demographic forms we filled out every year during State testing. When I was a kid, the options were: “White, Non Hispanic” which wasn’t true, but I also wasn’t quite sure I could check the “Hispanic” box. And if you aren’t confused about your identity, this might not seem like a big deal, but it was a tiny annual reminder that I lived between two worlds.

To this day, my Spanish sucks (I’m working on it) but I often hear my accent is really great. I chalk it up to being around Spanish a lot as a kid - my dad and grandma often broke into Spanish when they didn’t want the kids to know what they were talking about - but I wasn’t taught Spanish. And we didn’t refer to my grandma as abuela.

~

Put the garlic, 1 tablespoon oil, the cloves, cinnamon, and pepper into a mortar and pound with a pestle into a paste.

Think to yourself that if you were a real Mexican, you’d have a goddamn mortar and pestle, but since you’re such a gringa, put the ingredients together in a bowl and smoosh them together with a cocktail muddler. Help yourself feel better by patting yourself on the back for your culinary resourcefulness - because a muddler and bowl is close enough to a mortar and pestle - and when people are displaced from their heritage, they have to do the best they can with what they have and so, in a way, this is the most honest way you could possibly be Mexican in this moment.

Spread the paste all over the lamb and dust lightly with the flour. Heat the remaining oil in a frying pan or skillet. Add the meat and cook over medium heat, stirring frequently, for 8-10 minutes, until evenly browned.

~

Everyone loved my grandma’s enchiladas but my favorite dish was her chili colorado. I remember her browning pork in a pan, stirring the sauce with its rich, deep flavor, and the joy of scooping it all up on a warm flour tortilla.

Bliss.

A few years ago, I started having a feeling, frequently, that I really needed to get her recipe. But my life wasn’t going so well at the time and I kept pushing it to the back of my mind. Sorting through priorities like trying not to lose my house in a drawn out divorce and getting my grandma’s recipe wasn’t easy. The feeling knocked and knocked, but I never answered.

She died unexpectedly and traumatically just months later as the result of an accident that occurred during what should have been a routine medical procedure. I wish I’d have gotten her recipe while she was here.

~

Remove the pan from the heat and transfer the meat to a plate.

Smell the warm and spicy fragrance wafting up from the browned lamb and offer a silent prayer of gratitude to the lamb, to your ancestors, and to the earth.

Pour the cider into a saucepan and bring to a boil. Boil until it has reduced by half, then remove the pan from the heat.

~

I moved to Texas in January of 2021. Had I still been in the Bay Area, I’d have used Golden State’s Mighty Dry Cider. But I was burned out in my career, burned out on the California Fires, burned out on the Bay Area prices, and burned out on not being able to feel my life.

It had been a tumultuous few years.

I needed a reset. Desperately. And I could feel the ancestors calling me to San Antonio. I wasn’t quite sure why, but knew better than to try to figure it out.

Life doesn’t always make sense in the moment, but I’ve learned from both succeeding at listening to those intuitive nudges and missing out on things like precious family recipes when I don’t - that our inner wisdom, the earth, and our ancestors are not to be ignored. And so I left.

I left so I could cook again, so I could slow down, so I could become an available mother again, so I could eat up my own life, so I could feel and love and exist. And as a Mexican-German and a-bunch-of-other-white-stuff American, of course I was drawn to San Antonio.

This area was once Mexico and was also settled by German Noblemen.

We have Dia De Los Muertos and Oktoberfest. La Villita and Guenther House. We have people like me.

We also have Austin East Ciders Dry Cider, which is what I used in this recipe.

~

Melt the butter in the pan used for the meat. Add the scallions (spring onions) and cook over low heat, stirring occasionally, for about 5 minutes, until translucent. Add the chorizo and cook, stirring frequently, for 10-15 minutes.

Drain off the excess fat and return the pan to the heat. Add the lamb, stock, and cider, and season with salt and pepper. Cover and simmer for 45 minutes or until the meat is tender. Taste and adjust the seasoning, if necessary, and remove the pan from the heat.

Transfer to a serving platter and garnish with slivered (flaked) almonds, chopped parsley, and a tiny hint of doubt about whether you’re doing this whole thing right.

Decide that it doesn’t matter if you’re doing it right, it only matters that you feel at home.

*Recipe adapted from Mexico: The Cookbook by Margarita Carrillo Arronte. This recipe for Coredero A La Sidra (Lamb In Cider Sauce) can be found on page 431