• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Spread an even layer of chicken salad over half of the slices of bread. Top with the other half of the slices to make sandwiches. Trim the crusts. Cut each sandwich in half on the diagonal.

To serve, arrange the sandwiches, long edge down, in a row on a platter—it will look like the roof of a long house. Spread one side of the “roof” with the remaining 2 tablespoons mayonnaise. Sprinkle the remaining ½ cup sesame seeds over the mayonnaise.

Mahimahi Smoked in Banana Leaves

Chipotle Cream Shrimp

Salmon with a Sweet Potato Crust and Smoked Salmon-Chile Mulato Sauce

Mussels in Saffron-Cilantro Cream

Veracruz-Style Snapper

Shrimp-Stuffed Nopales

Sarandeado-Style Butterflied Whole Fish

Baked Cod with Anchovies and Lime

My Fish Tacos

Aunt Laura’s Tuna-Stuffed Chiles

Jalapeño Roast Chicken with Baby Broccoli

Cilantro Tandoori Chicken with Grilled Pineapple Salsa

Game Hens in Apricot, Tequila, and California Chile Sauce

Easy Chicken Mole

Surf and Turf Molcajete

Chorizo Quiche

Roasted Pork Loin with Pineapple Glaze

Cochinita Pibil: Pork Rubbed in Achiote and Orange Juice and Baked in Banana Leaves

Ancho-Chocolate Braised Short Ribs

Salpicón: Cold Shredded Beef Salad

Osso Buco Don Tony

Rack of Lamb with Ancho Crust

Sweet Potato Gnocchi with Sage Butter

I am occasionally asked who has had the greatest influence on my career as a chef. I certainly owe a debt of gratitude to a number of people. My instructors at the Ritz-Escoffier cooking school in Paris; the editors at Bon Appétit; and my grandfather and my aunt Marcela, who were also chefs, are the first to come to mind. But the title of greatest influence goes to two of the best cooks I know, Pedro Huerta and Pedro Rocha, also known by my family as “Los Dos Pedros” (The Two Pedros).

I don’t remember exactly what month or year it was when it happened, but one day when I was young my mom decided she didn’t want to cook anymore, which was incredibly sad because my mother was an excellent cook. She suffered from a medical condition that made her tire quickly, and cooking became too demanding (kids and carpools, I’m beginning to understand, suck the energy right out of you by the time the first half of the day is over). But our family still needed to eat.

My father rarely treaded on Mom’s turf. He brought home the bacon and she cooked it, and that was that. I think he’d sooner die of starvation than make himself a sandwich—the man just doesn’t cook. But something needed to be done. In the meantime, my father began eating out a lot. And by a lot, I mean breakfast, lunch, and dinner in a restaurant every day of the week, as well as bringing back plenty of food for the rest of us. Realizing what an incredible waste of money this was, my dad decided he was going to hire the cook from his favorite restaurant, which at the time was the Club Campestre, a country club in Tijuana.

Before you start imagining me living in a palace with servants catering to our every whim and a personal chef making chilaquiles on the spot, remember, this is Tijuana and the cost of labor—along with everything else, really—is much, much cheaper than in the United States. (Why do you think I still live here?)

Anyway, that’s how Pedro Huerta came to cook at my house. Pedro wasn’t a trained chef. He’d never gone to cooking school and he never worked under any big shot in the culinary world, but boy could he cook. And he was completely unfazed by even the most daunting requests, like my father calling him at noon to request a meal for himself and eight friends.

Meal schedules are different in Mexico. It’s usually an early breakfast, a large meal in the middle of the day (la comida), and then a light dinner. A call from my father to Pedro at noon meant that food should be on the table at three o’clock. In those three hours, Pedro shopped for all of the ingredients and prepared the meal for my dad, his friends, my mom, and my siblings. His go-to meal on these special occasions was herb-crusted prime rib served with a red wine reduction and mushroom sauce alongside giant