Fresh Mexico_ 100 Simple Recipes for True Mexican Flavor - Marcela Valladolid [21]
I learned a lot from Pedro Huerta, and I was very sad when he left to open his own restaurant. Fortunately, it is four blocks away from my dad’s house, so Pedro is still close by when my dad has a longing for perfectly cooked prime rib.
So there we were again, hungry, but with no one to cook for us. We had fallen in love with Pedro, so the only solution was to go out and find another Pedro. Literally. My dad put an ad in the paper looking for a personal chef. He chose Pedro Rocha.
Pedro Rocha, or “El Pedro Nuevo” (The New Pedro) as he was known at my house, came from a seafood restaurant, so his forte was anything from the sea. I’d eaten seafood my whole life, but this Pedro opened my eyes to how seafood should be prepared. El Pedro Nuevo was all about going to the fish market and picking out the freshest seafood and putting it on the table the most organic way possible. Nothing fussy, very few seasonings—just perfectly cooked seafood on the table in record time. He was a master at ceviche and he made incredible seafood appetizers. His sarandeado fish, a whole fish cooked in a grill basket, was spectacular and soon became a favorite with my dad’s friends. But just like the old Pedro, the new Pedro had to follow his dreams and off he went to work in a restaurant.
The days of having a personal cook were over. With all of us out of the house and with my mom no longer with us, it just didn’t make sense anymore—so my father resorted to his old ways, and most of his meals are now again eaten with friends at restaurants (although he occasionally surprises me by knocking on my door at 7 a.m. to ask for huevos rancheros).
As for the two Pedros, there was no way my dad was going to let them go that easily. Every once in a while my dad will relive the old days and invite his friends to the house for a meal created by not one but both of our beloved Pedros! Their strengths play off each other to create a menu that is in perfect harmony, and we are privileged to partake in meals that they are now well known for in Tijuana.
I relish these meals for two reasons. Number one: I’m not cooking. I get to chill and eat the foods I grew up with and enjoy a Don Julio 1942 tequila while doing so. Number two: I learn something new from these guys every time I watch them cook. To watch them sitting in silence in the kitchen waiting for the reaction from my dad and his friends, and to hear that reaction—the murmurs of appreciation between bites of an exquisite meal—is an inspiration.
The biggest lesson I’ve learned from the two Pedros is that you don’t need a certificate from the best culinary school in the world, or a Michelin star, or to work under a famous French chef to make memorable food. You just need to have sazón—that special touch that makes your food unique—and the ability to cook with so much heart that it garners applause at the end of the meal. Some people learn it in school, and some, like the two Pedros, are born with it.
If I’m ever lucky enough to have someone write about me and my cooking, I hope they describe me as being born with the ability. Thank you, Pedro Rocha and Pedro Huerta: you are masters of your craft. Thank you for sharing your recipes with me, as they were the inspiration for many of the recipes in this book, especially in this chapter. No good-byes, though—my dad has a comida next week. I’ll see you both there!
MAHIMAHI SMOKED IN BANANA LEAVES
SERVES 6
8 tablespoons (1 stick) unsalted butter, softened
1 tablespoon chopped fresh cilantro
Salt and freshly ground black pepper
Six 12 x 12-inch squares of banana leaf (see photo)
Six 6-ounce mahimahi fillets
18 very thin lime slices (from 2 limes)
Mango, Serrano, and Avocado