Mexican Rice

Good morning!
Here we are at last with Mexican Rice, another of the crowning glories of border cuisine.

My mother made wonderful Mexican Rice, even though my father wouldn't eat onions and she had to leave them out of everything.  I don't recall her ever using canned broth in it either, though now I regard it as a good idea.  When I grew up and asked her how she made it, she referred me to my father's sister, my aunt Maria Longoria, because "Maria makes perfect Mexican rice."

So I went to Maria's and asked for a demonstration, and that sweetest of ladies obliged.  In her fusty and dark little kitchen, somewhat like most of the places where I have ever done my cooking, she showed me exactly how to make it.
Here's how to make it.

First, you put some fat in a pan, just a small amount. And put in, say, 1 1/2 cups rice, more or less. We always used long-grain Texas white rice. The fire must not be too hot, for the rice must not brown. You are going for uniformly white, tinged with gold. Take it off the fire.

Comino is important to Mexican rice. Cumin seeds.  My mom would add a knife-tip of ground comino toward the last of her cooking years, but when I was young she used the seeds. Put the comino seeds in the skillet at this point, and continue to stir the rice over a low fire. DO NOT BURN THEM. They are toasted when that great smell begins to arise.  At this point you add a small tomato which you have thoughtfully cubed ahead of time, ditto some small amount of onion and or garlic, or green pepper, as you like. Continue to stir and do not brown the rice. You are cooking the rich tomato-comino-onion-garlic scents into the rice.  At this point, add boiling water and some salt and let the mixture boil up. 

You may now cover the pan and leave the heat on low, or leave the lid off and let it boil down. No mystique here, either way will do. When it is about done, cover and let steam to its wonderful end.  Some ladies have told me about lifting the lid to add three dashes of cold water at the end, and covering again. I haven't found that necessary.  You will have a wonderful dish of rice. Remember, not too much tomato (my Aunt Maria emphasized that) and don't burn anything.

When I was in Paris I was in my room at lunchtime, and that wonderful aroma rose up from the buildings outside my room. Unmistakeable.  I later realized that I was in the Algerian neighborhood, and of course!  That delicious dish has been prepared every day, just that way, in North Africa and all around the Mediterranean  and Spain---and to the New World. Thanks, my ancestors!!

The best part is that you should make too much, for it reheats wonderfully. My mother reheated it in an aluminum pie pan in the oven. The outside edges get a little charred and crispy and the whole thing is more delicious than ever. 

You can also, the day you first make it, add chicken, shrimp or any meat to cook into it. Brown the chicken first. I would.  More glorified, it's called Paella in
Spain.  In Texas it was Arroz con--Pollo, Camaron, or whatever  else you put into it.  Lots of Mexican housewives add cubes of peas, carrots, or peas-and-carrots from a little can. Delicious.

My son Alexander, who is a good cook, received that recipe from me when he was a young man living in Seattle, and he made it my way for years. Later, however, he became corrupted by low class Mexican restaurants who ignored all those strictures above, and simply added a lot of tomato sauce and water to the seasonings (no comino either that I could taste) and boiled 'er down. At the last they topped it with a lot of cheese for they have discovered that Americans will eat anything. It tastes good, but it's not Mexican Rice.

If I were skinny and hungry, I'd use some cheese, assuming I needed the calories. I might also top frijoles with cheese. IF I needed food. I am against topping everything with cheese willy-nilly. And I really hate the American custom ot topping everything with melted cheese, especially meat--even hamburgers. I have seen plates of Mexican food served at restaurants that were invisible under a huge cloak of melted cheese.  Awful. I think the food should be distinguishable from the garnish, don't you?  YAZZYBEL