Verdolagas Guisadas con Tomate

Verdolagas belong to the rainy season in central and southern Mexico. After the first storms of June, the leaves push up through the cracks in the milpa and the edges of the cornfield, and by July the senoras at the mercados of Oaxaca and Puebla are selling them in big damp bundles tied with twine. This is not a dish you make in February. The verdolagas are not there in February. Cook what the market is selling today.

The Oaxacan way is to stew them in a salsa de tomate built from charred ripe tomato, white onion, garlic, and chile serrano. Nothing fancy. The dish does not need to be fancy. What it needs is verdolagas that were pulled from the ground that morning and a salsa that has been fried in lard until the fat separates. Without that fry, the tomato tastes like agua de tomate. With it, the salsa carries the verdolagas instead of swimming under them.

My mother did not cook verdolagas. They were not part of the Jalisciense kitchen she carried with her. I learned this dish from a senora named Lucila who sells purslane in the Mercado de la Merced in Oaxaca de Juarez, and who told me, while bagging up a kilo for a customer ahead of me, that the trick is to char the tomato until it is almost too far gone. 'Si no esta negro, no esta listo.' If it is not black, it is not ready. She was right. Saber cocinar es saber vivir.