Chiles En Nogada – Poblano Peppers Stuffed With Picadillo, Topped With Creamy Walnut Sauce And Pomegranate Seeds.
Ay Dios mío, I swear my cousin Rafaela almost started a war over who made the better nogada last year. A WAR, I tell you! With chanclas flying. It was… dramatic.
Chiles en Nogada are, like, serious business. They're a dish from Puebla, Mexico, very patriotic. The colors – green chili, white walnut sauce, red pomegranate seeds – represent the Mexican flag. It's said they were originally created by nuns in the 19th century for Agustín de Iturbide, who led Mexico to independence. ¡Qué historia!
Now, it wasn't always about patriotism. Some say the recipe came from a French chef trying to impress Iturbide’s wife, Ana María Huarte. But honestly? I think the nuns just wanted to show off their cooking skills. Who wouldn’t? It's a beautiful dish, even if everyone fights over it. It speaks to something deeper, mija. A need for beautiful food and family feuds.
Last year, though... oh boy. My mother, she’s convinced her picadillo (the meat filling) is superior. She adds raisins soaked in brandy. Brandy, Rafaela! Who does that?! Rafaela says brandy is “sophisticated.” Sophisticated my tiptoe! My sister, Esmeralda, she only cares about the presentation – the perfect sprinkle of parsley, the symmetrical placement of the pomegranate seeds. She's got the eye of an artist, but zero flavor sense.
Rafaela swore she used only the freshest walnuts. And then accused my mom of using pre-made sauce. Pre-made! ¡La mordida! Like my mom doesn’t spend three days perfecting that nogada. It was a disaster. It really was. Spilled salsa on Tía Elena's new blouse… a small chancla incident…my tio Eduardo pretending he didn't see anything while sneaking extra helpings...
Tía Mildred showed up wearing a red dress, naturally, and started offering "constructive criticism." Constructive from Mildred is like getting hit with a feather pillow filled with rocks. She said my mother’s chiles looked “a little sad.” Sad! They were glorious! She then complimented Rafaela’s, which, honestly, were a bit bland. Just to stir the pot, you know? That woman.
I tried to mediate. I brought a bottle of tequila. Didn’t work. Then I offered to do dishes. That just made everyone yell at me faster. Ay, Dios mío. The drama. Honestly, sometimes I think our family could be a telenovela. We have all the essential elements: love, betrayal, delicious food, and enough passive-aggressive comments to fill a stadium.
And then there was Ricardo. Oh, Ricardo. Rafaela's husband. He kept looking at me. Not in a creepy way, exactly… more like appreciative. He winked, then asked if I knew where the good tequila was hidden. My mother saw it, glared at him, then started loudly praising my single status. It was… complicated.
Esmeralda declared the pomegranate seeds weren't shiny enough. Seriously! Shiny! Then she started rearranging everyone’s plates. As if her aesthetic perfectionism could solve everything. It only escalated things further.
My abuela, God bless her soul, used to say, “A good chile en nogada can fix any problem.” But even she would have been overwhelmed by last year’s chaos. She always said “la comida une,” but clearly, not in our family. ¡Anda! It divides us with style!
This year, I'm making it. By myself. In a locked room. With security. And a very large batch of tequila. For me. To survive. Don't tell anyone. And definitely don’t let Tía Mildred near it. It's for the survival of the family. Trust me.
Recipe
Ingredients 🌽🥘
- 6 large poblano peppers
- 1 tbsp olive oil
- 1 onion, chopped
- 2 cloves garlic, minced
- 1 lb ground beef (or pork or turkey)
- 1/2 cup chopped fruits (apple, pear, peach - traditional)
- 1/4 cup raisins (soaked in brandy, if you dare!)
- 1/4 cup chopped almonds
- 1 tsp cinnamon
- 1/2 tsp cloves
- Salt and pepper to taste
- 2 cups walnuts
- 1 cup milk
- 1/2 cup heavy cream
- 2 tbsp grated parmesan cheese
- 1/4 cup chopped parsley
- 1 pomegranate, seeded
- Optional: a splash of sherry for the sauce
Tools 🔪🥄
- Baking sheet
- Large skillet
- Blender or food processor
- Small saucepan
- Knife
- Cutting board
Steps
- Roast the poblano peppers over an open flame (or under the broiler) until blackened on all sides. Place in a plastic bag for 10 minutes to steam – this makes peeling easier. Peel off the skin, make a slit down one side, and carefully remove the seeds and veins. Be careful! They can be spicy.
- Heat the olive oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the onion and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Then add the garlic and cook for another minute, until fragrant.
- Add the ground meat and cook, breaking it up with a spoon, until browned. Drain any excess fat. Don’t skip draining; nobody wants greasy picadillo. My mother would kill me if I didn't mention that.
- Stir in the chopped fruits, raisins (with or without brandy, your call), almonds, cinnamon, and cloves. Season with salt and pepper. Simmer for 15-20 minutes, allowing the flavors to meld. This is where the magic happens.
- While the picadillo simmers, prepare the nogada sauce. Soak the walnuts in hot water for at least 30 minutes to soften them. Drain and blend them with the milk, heavy cream, and parmesan cheese until smooth and creamy. If you want, add a splash of sherry. It elevates things. Rafaela would disapprove, but she doesn't need to know.
- Stuff each roasted poblano pepper with the prepared picadillo. Arrange the stuffed peppers on a baking sheet.
- Pour the walnut sauce generously over the stuffed peppers. Be generous! Don't skimp. We want them completely covered in white glory.
- Sprinkle with pomegranate seeds and chopped parsley. The red and green are essential. Esmeralda would approve of this part. Finally, bake in a preheated oven at 350°F (175°C) for 15-20 minutes, or until heated through.
Make-Ahead / Storage
- The picadillo can be made 2-3 days in advance and stored in the refrigerator.
- The nogada sauce can also be made ahead and refrigerated for up to 2 days.
- Assemble and bake the chiles en nogada just before serving for best results.
- Leftovers can be stored in the refrigerator for up to 3 days, but the sauce may lose some of its vibrancy.
Side Dish Pairing
- A light and refreshing jicama salad with orange segments and mint. It cuts through the richness of the dish beautifully.
- Quince Paste and Manchego Cheese: Because sometimes, sweet and savory is just what you need, ¡ándale!
Tía Mildred siempre decía, “A little drama makes everything more flavorful.”
