Mexico Culture: Convents, Legends and Moles!

Reed and I leave tomorrow morning for a weekend in Pátzcuaro, but I want to publish a new post before we depart. This week I had the pleasure of responding to an inquiry from a friend in Australia about the preparation of mole—Oaxaca's acclaimed moles and the incomparable mole poblano from nearby Puebla (poblano is the adjectival form of Puebla; e.g., a person from Puebla is a poblano).

I dug around a bit and found a delightful account in Wikipedia of the legendary origins of mole...in convents! That got me thinking. Recently, Reed and I spent a magical four days in Puebla. We stayed, where else, but in a meticulously restored sixteenth century convent.

Interior patio, one of several, at the exConvento that is now Camino Real Hotel in Puebla.  Photo: Reed

In Spanish, the word convento describes the place where a community of religious live together, whether monjas (sisters, or nuns), frailes (brothers, in monastic orders), or retired priests. It seems that convents are among the best examples of colonial architecture. The architecture at our ex-convent/hotel was no exception.

This outdoor foyer retains a remarkable example of the frescoes that once covered these walls. Left click to enlarge the photo—it's worth it to see fresco details and the tile work on the vaulted ceiling!  Photo: Reed

Camino Real Hotel / A Convent's Legends

One morning I went exploring. In my wandering, I came upon a man who, from his behavior and official 'tag', might have been the hotel's manager. When I told him how beautiful we found the hotel, he brightened before responding,

"It has been lovingly, painstakingly restored. You know," he added, "when they began the early restoration, they found a tunnel to the Cathedral." 

"A tunnel?" I asked, puzzled, "do you mean for the monjas to get to the Cathedral?"   

 "No," he replied, with a mischievous grin, "it was for the priests to get to the convent. They also found a room filled with things for babies and children."  

We shared a chuckle before this busy man returned to his official duties. Is it true?  Who knows! I do know that legends such as this one abound in Mexico, often the result of the delightful Mexican sense of 'play'.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz

Octavio Paz's sensitively insightful biography of the brilliant seventeenth century nun—whose poetry continues to move contemporary readers—is also a powerful introduction to the Spanish colonial period. Sor Juana was a talented theologian who clashed with religious authority. She is widely recognized as the first feminist in the Western Hemisphere. Born out of wedlock to Spanish parents, she was without the resources needed to maintain the intellectual life she craved. Early on, she ruled out marriage and children, so her best option was to enter a convent.

Now I don't know about you, but I've always assumed that being in a convent meant an austere lifestyle lived from a barren cell. But that is apparently not exactly how it worked. Paz describes Sor Juana's two-story house, her servant, her extensive library, and the tertulias she presided over in the convent's public salon. Regular informal social gatherings where issues of common interest are discussed, Sor Juana's tertulias were attended by the intellectual elite of Nueva España.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz (1651-1695), in her Library.

But don't get me wrong. As a monastic, Sor Juana was also obligated to observe the Liturgy of the Hours—prayers conducted roughly every three hours around the clock, including 9:00 PM, midnight, 3:00 AM and 6:00 AM. She also served more than once as the convent's treasurer.

As Paz points out, along with the universities of Nueva España, the convents were the gathering place for the society's religious, intellectual and academic elites.

Legendary Mole

So now we arrive at mole, sauce or even 'concoction'. A couple of years ago, I read that the world's connoisseurs rate the world's cuisines as follows:  first place is held by Szechuan Province of China, for the subtlety and sophistication of its sauces; second place goes to Oaxaca, Mexico, for the variety, subtlety and sophistication of its famed seven moles (black, red, yellow, colorado/golden, green, almendrado/almond, and pipián/pumpkin seed); third place is occupied by France. So much for the prowess of Western European culinary arts on the world stage!

Mole poblano is served with red rice, tortillas, or even white bread—the latter reflects Spanish influence; Mexico's original people did not have wheat, only maíz (corn)!

Mole enjoys a storied history. For their noble lords, the Aztecs prepared a complex dish called mulli, meaning stew or mixture in Nahuatl. Early moles featured chocolate and  turkey meat (turkey mole). The true origins of mole are probably lost to time, but the following charming account is worth repeating (Source: Wikipedia).

One version puts the invention of mole poblano in the Convent of Santa Rosa in Puebla, capital of the state of Puebla (Mexico). Legend has it that a nun ground together different chiles and other seasonings in a metate, mortar, and used this herb mix for her mole.  It is worth mentioning that the original recipe for mole called for about a hundred ingredients!  

Mexican metate, mortar, still used today!
Photo: Reed 

Another version says that mole poblano was created in Puebla de los Angeles by Mother Andrea de la Asunción, Dominican nun of the convent of Santa Rosa, as part of a seventeenth century celebration. 

A third legend has it that, when notified of an impending visit to their diocese by Juan de Palafox, Viceroy of New Spain and Archbishop of Puebla, a poblano monastery invited the Viceroy/Archbishop to a banquet, to be prepared in his honor by chefs of the religious community. The head chef was Brother Pascual.  

On the day of the banquet, Brother Pascal was exceedingly nervous. In his anxiety, he began berating his helpers for the disorder that reigned in the kitchen. Seeking to safeguard the prepared ingredients in the pantry, Brother Pascual piled them on a tray. In his haste, he tripped right in front of the pot where succulent turkeys were nearly ready. Into the pot tumbled the cut-up chilies, chopped chocolate and the most varied spices, 'spoiling' the food to be offered to the Viceroy. 

Such was the anguish of Fray Pascual that he began to pray "with all his faith" when he was informed that the guests were seated at the table. Later he could not believe his ears when everyone praised his "rough" dish.  

What is certain, however, is that mole is not a product of chance, but instead the result of a  longstanding culinary and cultural process that originated in prehispanic times and was perfected in Nueva España, when the rich indigenous cuisine came into contact with Asian and European ingredients and cooking techniques.

I've written a lot about religious synchretism, but the history of mole opens up a whole new level of investigation for the culturally curious!

Still Curious?

Here's the web site for the Camino Real Hotel in Centro Puebla.

Here's the English Wikipedia entry for Mole (sauce).

Here's an exceptional description of the history of mole, which includes versions of the legends recounted above (whew!) and ends up by quoting the renowned expert, Michael D. Coe.

Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, o las trampas de la fé (English: Sor Juana Inés de la Cruz, or the Traps of Faith) by Octavio Paz. An insightful introduction to the life and times of a brilliant, amazing woman.