Today, corn is just another common vegetable in the world. But transforming this grain into something humans could actually eat took an astonishing amount of time and ingenuity. It all began around 7,000 years ago—around the same time the metate (grinding stone) and mano (grinding stick) were invented. From there, it took another 3,000 years of careful selection and cultivation to make corn a viable food source. Then, about 3,500 years ago, a breakthrough came with the invention of nixtamalization—a process using lime (calcium hydroxide) to make corn more digestible and nutritious. This innovation helped corn become a true staple crop, leading to food stability and, eventually, the rise of the Olmec civilization in Mesoamerica.The tamales we feature here trace their roots back to those early days. This is soul food in the deepest sense. We’ve recreated a classic version using a dough made from masa (corn flour) and lard, filled with spicy chicken tossed in salsa verde, then wrapped in corn husks and steamed to tender perfection.

While meat dishes often take the spotlight in Mexican cuisine, the country's long coastline gives rise to an impressive variety of seafood fare. One of the most distinctive comes from the Gulf-facing port city of Veracruz—a historic crossroads where the Old and New Worlds first collided when the Spanish landed in 1518.It's here that culinary fusion gave birth to Pescado a la Veracruzana, a unique dish that blends Mediterranean and indigenous flavors. White fish is gently simmered in a sauce of tomatoes, capers, olives, garlic, and bay leaves—a profile far removed from the chili-forward heartland style.
Ironically, the dish was originally created by a Spanish settler trying to recreate a taste of home on foreign soil. Yet over time, this once-foreign invention has “gone native,” ecoming one of the region's most beloved local specialties—just as Veracruz itself evolved into a destination deeply rooted in Mexican identity.

In Spanish, olla simply means “pot”—a name as humble and flexible as the dish itself. Like Japan's yosenabe or chanko, it refers more to the cooking vessel than a specific recipe, allowing each region, even each household, to put its own stamp on it.Though some trace its origins to Puebla, olla is found in countless local variations across Mexico. The version we’ve recreated comes from Morelia, Michoacán: a hearty stew of chunky bone-in beef, slow-cooked until tender, spiced with three types of chile to create a bold, layered heat. Finishing touches include chopped raw onion, fresh cilantro (known as pak chi in Thai), and a squeeze of lime for brightness.Despite its Spanish name and the inclusion of Old World ingredients, the soul of the dish speaks to something far older. In every spoonful, you may catch echoes of culinary traditions that predate even the Aztec Empire.