8 Stirring Memories: The Labor of Love Behind Pozole

Many may have asked this hypothetical question, at least once in their lives: If you could eat one dish for the rest of your life, what dish would it be?

Now, I’m not sure about you, but when I have asked this question, or heard someone else’s response, they always seem to respond along the lines of, “I don’t know. Hmmm, I would eat ___ dish, but I feel like I would get tired of it easily”. And when they ask me, my answer without fail is Pozole. I have loved this dish since I was a little kid. I have eaten this dish multiple times a day, and for multiple days in a row and not once can I genuinely say I have been tired of it. In fact, I look forward to eating it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Pozole is a labor of love, typically made in obscenely large quantities (hence why I eat it for multiple days in a row) during holidays such as Christmas or New Years. My whole family takes turns of who gets to make to every year. One year it would be my uncle, on my dad’s side, the next it would be my aunt, on my dad’s side, the following year it would be us. Not to be biased, I think my mother does it the best, which is why for this paper, I decided to interview her.

Both of my parents are incredible cooks. I learned how to cook from my dad as he had more patience and passion to cook than my mother did. However, there was no denying that my mom, with certain dishes, was a level above my dad. Pozole was one of some such dishes. Indiana is my home. I was born and raised here. But Mexico is my motherland, and I try to keep and uphold the traditions that come from there. Both of my parents immigrated to the United States over 25 years ago. Food, like for most other immigrants, is a way to hold on to the past. To hold on to our home and ancestors, even if we are thousands of miles apart. When interviewing my mom, she remarked that when she first immigrated here to the US, there weren’t many Latin grocery stores. “The one that we did have was expensive too. You had to get creative with your dishes” (Arreola-Ortiz, 2024), my mom told me.

My mom would explain to me the first time eating American fast food and how she cried uncontrollably because it didn’t taste like home. Slowly as the Hispanic community around her grew, so did the food markets here in Indiana. When she built her family here, she stuck to her old family traditions. Pozole is a dish that has the whole house pitching in. She told me that in her house, if someone wasn’t doing something to contribute, they were going to be reprimanded in front of the guests. It involved the whole community. Similarly to the Amish culture, the shared recipes and traditions signify more than just food preparation; they symbolize the values of cooperation and continuity within the community. This ties back to the concept of Gemeinde (Nostrand & Estaville 2001) that highlights how food practice can foster a sense of belonging and identity. My mom also agreed, as despite being away from home, cooking her traditional dishes here in Indiana made her have a sense of belonging once again.

What I really like about Pozole is the obscene number of garlic and onion this dish has. Everyone was assigned to a specific station. One was mincing the onion and garlic. The other was shredding the meat and lastly prepping the garnish. “They would say you would be ready to marry when you’re in charge of taking care of the Pozole” (Arreola-Ortiz 2024). It took me years to finally be in charge of taking care of the pozole. Even then, my mom would intervene. You knew the holidays were truly here when you could smell the dish around the house, you would sing prayers around the room and sit down to eat this hot soup in the winter with your family.

My mom misses home. She misses being around her family members and misses her homeland. “But my family is also here”, she told me. “And I wouldn’t change that choice” (Arreola-Ortiz 2024). Even though she wasn’t born here, in a way, Indiana is also her home.

Pozole Blanco 

Ingredients

• 1 large can of Hominy
• 2 yellow onions
• 2 garlic heads
• Mexican Oregano
• 2-3 dried bay leaves
• Salt
• 2 – 4 lbs of pork loin (or chicken by preference)
• Chicken Boullion
• 1 spoon of thyme

Garnish (optional, but not really):

• 1 cabbage head
• 1 bunch of radish
• 1-2 avocados
• 1 lime

How to Prepare

In a large pot, put the pork loin in chunks. Fill the pot with water and let it boil. Remove the impurities from the top. You will know once the pork is done cooking when the impurities are no longer visible on the top. Once the meat is done cooking, lower the heat down to a medium. Next, open the can of hominy and drain the liquid inside, but set aside one cup. Once drained, add the hominy inside the pork broth. Add a 2 spoonful of Mexican oregano, 3 dried bay leaves, 1 spoonful of salt, 1 spoonful of thyme and 2 spoonful of chicken bouillon. In a blender, add the cup of hominy, 8-9 garlic cloves, half an onion, and 2-3 cups of the broth. Blend it all and then add it to the pot. Let it all boil together until the hominy blooms open. It should take around 30 minutes. During this time, remove the meat and start shredding the meat to smaller, bite size chunks. This is where you put other people to work! Have someone chop the cabbage in ribbons, the radish in slices and diced the avocado. Add the meat back into the pot or set aside. Taste the soup! Add more salt, oregano, onion and or garlic to taste! The soup is now ready to serve!

Salsa Macha (optional for spice and the brave)

Ingredients

• Handful of Chile de Arbol
• 1 cup of oil
• salt
• 2-3 big garlic cloves
• ¼ yellow onion

How to prepare

Add oil in a medium sized pot until it’s heated. Make sure blender is set closely to the pan. Add the onion and garlic. This is when you don’t stop stirring. After around 30 seconds, add the handful of the Chile in the oil. Never stop stirring! If you do, the Chile can burn and the whole salsa will be bad. Just until the Chile is a bit fried and looks a bit puffy. This shouldn’t take long. Maybe 2-3 minutes. Immediately once it’s done, pour it all in a blender, add a pinch of salt to taste, and then blend. Salsa Macha is really spicy. Be careful with it! If you don’t want spice to linger in the air or suffocate your roommates, make sure to turn on the vent and open some windows!

References

Arreola-Ortiz, Guadalupe. Interview by Lizbeth Roque-Arreola. Indianapolis, November 2024.

Nostrand, R. L., & Estaville, L. E. (Eds.). (2001). Homelands: a geography of culture and place across America. JHU Press.