Bringing It Home ■ HOW-TO ■ SOUTHWEST FLAVOR ■ UNIQUE BOUTIQUE ■ BOOKS For centuries, Native people have been making micaceous pottery for cooking. This month, we show you how to make your own traditional bean pot and stir up a batch of New Mexican pinto beans and enchiladas. PHOTO BY lois ellen frank NEW MEXICO | AUGUST 2010 49 Bringing It Home HOW-TO by KRISTEN DAVENPORT | photography by LOIS ELLEN FRANK Earth and Fire Embrace the ways of the ancients, and make your own micaceous bean pot When I grow up, I want to be a potter. Right now, I’m stuck in life choices I’ve already made—mother, writer, farmer, beekeeper. Because those jobs completely fill my time, it’s been suggested (primarily by my husband) that I do not need another hobby. But ever since I first heard about the magic of micaceous cookware several years ago, I have nurtured a dream about learning to make this kind of pottery. Then, along came an opportunity to spend several days in a micaceous-pottery class with one of the best teachers in New Mexico, and write about it. (Isn’t this job great?) Years ago, for another assignment, I interviewed New Mexico’s grand master of micaceous pottery. Felipe Ortega, the Jicarilla Apache medicine man credited with reviving this art of functional cookware from near extinction, told me that the Jicarilla Apache say that micaceous pots make the beans taste sweet. Since then, I’ve learned that he is right. When I started thinking about writing the story you’re now reading, my first idea was to convince Ortega to teach me himself, but he was out of the country at the time. Where to take micaceous pottery classes: • Brian Grossnickle Studios: Grossnickle holds classes at his Tijeras studio several times a year, and teaches at Santa Fe Community College. (505) 281-1853, www.micaceouscookware.com • Felipe Ortega Studios: Ortega teaches at several New Mexico venues throughout the year, and sometimes accepts apprentices at his La Madera studio. In winter, he teaches in Mexico. (505) 583-2345, www.felipeortega. com, [email protected] • Santa Fe Community College: Beginning and advanced classes in micaceous pottery are offered each semester. (505) 428-1000, www.sfccnm.edu • Santa Fe Clay: The studio gives workshops in micaceous cookware this fall. (505) 984-1122, www.santafeclay.com 50 NEW MEXICO | AUGUST 2010 Enter Brian Grossnickle. As Ortega’s apprentice for two years, Grossnickle lived with, studied with, and helped Ortega dig micaceous clay from secret pits not far from his studio in La Madera, a ranching village about 50 miles north of Santa Fe, just north of Ojo Caliente. Grossnickle, an elfin sort of guy brimming with irreverent humor, insists that I refer to him not as Brian Grossnickle but as Brian the Bean Pot Maker. “I love making bean pots,” he says. “I’d be happy if I could make bean pots all day long.” I arrive at Grossnickle’s yurt studio outside Tijeras, a village of about 500 people about five miles east of Albuquerque, to crash a class that has been going on for nearly two months. I feel totally out of place and worry, walking in, that I’ve got all this dirt under my nails from the hours I spent transplanting tomato seedlings the day before. Then I remember: Oh yeah, these people (like me) love dirt. “Here’s an apron, if you don’t want to get dirty,” says Grossnickle. (As if I weren’t already?) “Class,” says Grossnickle as I settle in, “tell Kristen what we think of the bean pot!” The voices rise in chorus: “They’re essential! They’re sensuous! They’re the ultimate in micaceous cookware!” “When learning,” Grossnickle tells me, “we always start with the bean pot, because if you can build a bean pot, you can build anything.” He gives me a one-on-one demonstration. First, you take a pookie. “A pookie?” He spells it for me: p-u-k-i. In New Mexico, anyway, puki is a Hopi word for the base vessel used to shape the bottom of a bean pot. In other words: a ceramic bowl or plate you find at a thrift store, preferably with a nice shape and clear edges, so your coils go up straight as you form your pot. You use a standard rolling pin to roll out the clay, then cut your bottom, pressing it into the puki. Then you make some clay worms, “just like you did in kindergarten,” Grossnickle reassures me. These are your coils, which you gradually snake around your puki base to form a cylinder—the walls of your pot. When the pot is tall enough, you let it dry for an hour or two before adding smaller coils so that the neck of the pot tapers in at an angle of about 45 degrees. This is where I start having trouble. Once the pot tapers in at the neck, it’s supposed to flare out again to form a nice rim, with the walls of the pot having the same thickness throughout. Using simple tools—a lazy Susan, an aluminum scraping doodad, a wooden shaping gizmo—I spend about half an hour shaping my pot into something that looks, well, a bit wonky. “Don’t worry,” Grossnickle comforts me. “Symmetry is overrated. Just center your belly button on the belly of the bean pot and it will be fine.” After a day’s work, I set down my pot near Grossnickle’s woodstove to let it dry for a few days. I am warned that the first day is the fun part. The real work comes later: scraping, sanding, and polishing the pot before it is fired. Scholars say that while local Pueblo and Hispanic populations have made micaceous cookware for centuries, the tradition is not unique to New Mexico. Archaeological evidence of the use of micaceous clay cookware dates back to Neolithic Germany, more than 6,000 years ago, where pukis were apparently carved from igneous rock. In Africa, findings suggest that micaceous clay was used to make stew pots that were fired with burning cow dung. New Mexico is a fairly rich source of Top row—Wedging clay removes air pockets and readies it for coil-making. Instructor Brian Grossnickle snakes coils of clay to form a cylinder. Using scraping tools, Grossnickle smooths out the coils and adds more to form the bean pot. Middle row— Gradually, he adds shorter coils to form the neck of the bean pot. Grossnickle uses a wooden scraping tool to make the walls of the bean pot an even thickness. The bean pot air-dries. Bottom row— Once the clay has hardened, the potter sands it smooth and polishes it with slip. Firing the pot with New Mexico juniper and piñon wood creates smoky whorls on the surface. A basic bean pot can be used on the stovetop, in the oven, or the old-fashioned way—atop an open fire. continued on page 52 Where to buy micaceous pottery • Café Pasqual’s, 121 Don Gaspar Ave., Santa Fe; (505) 983-9340, www.pasquals.com • Brian Grossnickle Studios, www.micaceouscookware.com • Pat Lollar, www.patlollar.com • Felipe Ortega, www.felipeortega.com www.nmmagazine.com | AUGUST 2010 51 Bringing It Home HOW-TO SOUTHWEST FLAVOR by KRISTEN DAVENPORT | photography by LOIS ELLEN FRANK Cook the Native Way in micaceous clay continued from page 50 micaceous clay (i.e., clay that’s high in mica). “It’s an unbelievably unique clay,” Grossnickle says. Mica, a sparkly mineral, is one of the planet’s greatest natural conductors of heat. It’s also the name of Grossnickle’s oldest daughter, a rather glittery little girl herself. Some micaceous potters in the Southwest don’t intend their work to be used as cookware, but instead as works of art. Such pots can indeed be beautiful, but for the most part, micaceous potters are in a league of their own: Their art is meant for the kitchen—for making frijoles, tajines, and simmering soups. Traditionally, after the pots were airdried, they were fired in giant bonfires of, typically, juniper or piñon, which would transform them from soft clay into hard cookware and imprint their surfaces with smoky whorls and ghosts. Grossnickle says that using only the open-fire technique results in the cracking of about 40 percent of the pots. (A cracked pot won’t hold a batch of juicy beans.) However, pots that are first kiln-fired above 750 degrees, then put into a wood pit to finish, have a 95 percent success rate. But before I can fire my pot, I have to finish shaping it. The following week I drop in on another of Grossnickle’s classes, this time at the Santa Fe Community College, where I learn how to scrape and sand. Scraping—to even out any low or high points—is simple enough. Sanding is a little bit (OK more than a little bit) hard on the arm, but satisfying because it results in a smooth, gleaming surface. The final step before firing is polishing: gently rub-rub-rubbing into the pot a slip made of clay with a very high mica content. Grossnickle recommends using a smooth, polished stone like those found at gem-and-mineral shops. The result is a shimmery, richly brown vessel. After firing, it sounds beautiful when gently clanked with a wooden spoon—kitchen music. This fall, I’m taking Brian Grossnickle’s class for real. Just don’t tell my husband. 52 NEW MEXICO | AUGUST 2010 Master micaceous potter Felipe Ortega began making bean pots when he learned, as a young man on the Jicarilla Apache Nation, that he liked beans only when they’d been cooked in this traditional vessel. In the Apache language, he says, there is a phrase about micaceous pottery, dahlikao gohnii, that translates roughly to “it makes the beans taste sweet.” In fact, Ortega tells me, micaceous cookware makes almost everything taste better— coffee, tea, rice, beans, spaghetti sauce. If you’ve been conditioned to think of Native American pots as only fragile, expensive artworks, it’s a shift to accept them as functional kitchen tools. The first time you light a gas stove’s flame under the bottom of a bean pot is a frightening experience. (At $100 per quart, the fear is probably justified.) But, as micaceous potter Brian Grossnickle, Ortega’s former apprentice, reminds me, these pots were used by “roaming bands of Apaches” and are hardier than they look. (Just the same, I’ve seen Grossnickle’s kitchen, and his micaceous pots have some nicks on the edges. Perhaps cooking in clay requires that we accept some imperfection.) Although some micaceous potters make lids (Grossnickle does not), the shape of the bean pot is designed to keep the liquid in the pot and thus prevent it from boiling over, he says. Tips for cooking in your new micaceous pots: Cook anywhere. You can cook in mica- ceous pots on any stovetop, in your oven, or even atop an open fire. Before it came to your kitchen, the pot was fired to at least 750 degrees. It can take the heat. So you don’t know beans? In New Mexico, the cooking of pinto beans is a topic that can get downright contentious. There’s the faction that preaches: “Never add salt to your beans before they’re fully cooked, or they’ll be tough and inedible.” And the group that declares: “Always add salt before they cook, or they’ll be flavorless.” And the group that insists: “Beans are the ultimate low-calorie, vegetarian protein.” Cook anything. Don’t limit yourself to beans. Make soup, brisket, roast chicken, oatmeal, or pumpkin-pie filling. Tastes will change. Grossnickle suggests giving up all other cookware for two weeks and use only your micaware, and then return to stainless steel or cast iron. “You’ll taste the metals,” he says. Let it soak in. A clay pot takes on the flavors of what you cook in it. If you cook a lot of hot, garlicky dishes, you might consider having a second bean pot for, say, your morning cinnamon oatmeal. Also, beans can soak up the flavors of meals previously made in your pot. (This can be a good thing.) Season it. Ask the potter how to season your pot. Grossnickle suggests that the first thing to cook in your pot should be rice. The starch will help fill the pores of the clay and ready it for use. Washing is overrated. Don’t ever put your micaceous pot in the dishwasher. Wash it gently by hand using only a little soap. Tough break. If your pot cracks the first time you use it (it happens), call the potter. In those circumstances, most will replace it. Cut the fat. Micaceous clay is a naturally nonstick surface. For instance, one recipe we found requires you to “sweat” your onions in the pot as a first step; instead, just toss the chopped onions in the pot and heat. (In other cookware, this step would require oil.) Use wooden utensils. It’s a cook’s instinct to clank a spoon on the edge of the pot. To prevent chipping, avoid metal spoons. And the camp that proclaims: “Beans without bacon? Heresy!” My parents grew up in New Mexico, as did I, so I feel authorized to tell you that the best way to cook beans is to put them in some water and cook them very slowly, either on low heat or in a slow cooker, for many hours. Period. —Kristen Davenport How do you cook your beans? Tell us on New Mexico Magazine’s Facebook page. RECIPES Clay Pot Frijoles New to cooking in clay? This basic bean-pot recipe is easily adapted to your tastes. 2½ cups (about 1 pound) dried pinto or bolita beans, rinsed, sorted 1 large onion, diced 4–5 large cloves garlic, minced 1 tablespoon olive oil ¼ cup diced salt pork or bacon 1 teaspoon dried epazote leaves, crumbled, or 1 bag chamomile tea (intact) 3 tablespoons mild or hot Chimayó red-chile powder 2 whole bay leaves 1½ teaspoons cumin powder 7–8 cups water or broth (beef, chicken, or vegetable) salt and pepper to taste Put all ingredients in bean pot and place on bottom rack of cold oven. (If you’re cooking in something other than a micaceous bean pot, put a lid on it.) Heat oven to 450 degrees and cook beans for 1½ hours. Carefully remove pot and check seasoning; add more if necessary, and return to hot oven. Reduce heat to 375 degrees and cook another 40 minutes or until tender. Remove pot from oven, re-season if necessary, cover, and let rest 10 minutes. Serve as side dish with fresh tortillas, crema Mexicana or sour cream, diced jalapeños, and crumbled cotija or grated asadero cheese. Serves 6–8. www.nmmagazine.com | AUGUST 2010 53 Bringing It Home SOUTHWEST FLAVOR Vegetarian Enchiladas You can cook more than beans in your bean pot. Potter Brian Grossnickle makes this dish in his own kitchen. This recipe has been refined by Lois Ellen Frank, culinary anthropologist, chef, photographer, and author of Foods of the Southwest Indian Nations (Ten Speed Press, 2002). Green Chile and Tomato Sauce 1 tablespoon olive oil 1 medium white sweet onion, diced 5 cloves garlic, finely chopped 13-ounce tub frozen green chiles (mild) 16-ounce jar Rancho de los Garcias Green Chile Sauce 28-ounce can organic whole tomatoes with basil, chopped Enchiladas 3 tablespoons olive oil 4 cups white mushrooms, sliced 3 zucchini, thinly sliced 1 red bell pepper, diced 4 cups baby spinach, washed, cleaned 12 corn tortillas 1 cup cotija cheese, crumbled 2 cups mild cheddar cheese, grated 1 2 3 4 Sauce: In medium saucepan or three-quart micaceous cooking pot, warm olive oil over medium to high heat until hot but not smoking. Add onions and sauté until clear (about 2 minutes), stirring to prevent burning. Add garlic, cook an additional minute, then add green chiles and greenchile sauce. Stir. Add canned tomatoes and stir again. Cook about 3 minutes, stirring to prevent burning. Reduce heat and simmer 10–15 minutes, until sauce has reduced and tomato water is gone. Remove from heat and set aside. Enchiladas: Preheat oven to 350 degrees. In large cast-iron skillet, heat olive oil over medium to high heat until hot. Add mushrooms and sauté 3 minutes, stirring occasionally. Add zucchini and cook 2 minutes more. Add diced pepper and cook another minute, stirring to ensure even cooking. Add spinach and cook another 2 minutes, stirring to prevent burning. Remove from heat and set aside. Use about 5 ounces (a little more than ½ cup) of sauce to cover bottom of clay casserole dish. Cover sauce with 4 tortillas. 54 NEW MEXICO | AUGUST 2010 5 Pour another 5 ounces of sauce atop tortillas, then cover with half of sautéed vegetables. Cover with ½ cup crumbled cotija cheese. Add another layer of 4 tortillas, then 5 ounces of sauce, remaining half of vegetables, and remaining ½ cup of cotija cheese. Atop this layer last 4 corn tortillas, cover with remaining sauce, and top with grated cheddar. Bake 45 minutes, until casserole 1) Sauté mushrooms, zucchini, peppers, and spinach in a cast-iron skillet. 2) In a casserole dish, layer veggies, sauce, and cotija cheese over corn tortillas. 3) Add another layer of tortillas, topped with veggies, sauce, and cheese. Repeat. 4) Top the whole dish with grated cheddar cheese. Bake. 5) Slice and serve. Note: The clay casserole dish shown above is micaceous pottery from Mexico, available at Santa Fe School of Cooking. www.santafeschoolof cooking.com bubbles and cheese on top begins to turn brown. Remove from oven and let rest. Slice and serve. Serves 6–8 as main course. Kristen Davenport lives on a small farm in rural Taos County, where she and her husband grow garlic, potatoes, and other good stuff for farmers markets. She writes about agriculture and food for several magazines. www.nmmagazine.com | AUGUST 2010 55
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