Pipián Rojo con Pollo

Pipián is central Mexican food. The red one belongs to Tlaxcala, Puebla, and the Estado de México, the high plateau country where pumpkin seeds have been ground into sauces since long before the Spanish arrived. The word itself comes from the Nahuatl, and the dish is older than the chicken it is poured over. It used to be turkey. In some kitchens it still is.

Do not confuse pipián with mole. People do, and they should not. Mole carries chocolate, dried fruit, bread, sometimes thirty ingredients. Pipián is shorter and more direct: toasted seeds, dried chiles, a few spices, a little tortilla for body, broth, and lard. The seeds are the dish. Pepitas and sesame, toasted on the comal until they pop and turn gold, then ground with guajillo and ancho into a thick, brick-red sauce that clings to the chicken and stains the plate. That is the test of a good pipián, the color. Brick red, not orange. If yours comes out orange, you did not toast the chiles long enough or you did not fry the sauce.

The technique that matters most is the frying of the puree in lard before you add the broth. This is where the sauce becomes itself. The puree goes in bright and shallow and comes out dark and deep. La manteca es el sabor. I have watched señoras in the markets of Tlaxcala do this with a wooden spoon worn smooth from years of stirring. They do not rush it. Neither should you.

My mother kept a pipián recipe in her notebook from a woman she met at a posada in Cholula in the early eighties. The page is stained brick red. That is how I know it is the right one. Cada estado, su propia cocina.