It’s pozole season, but menudo is still top dog in Houston

As the holiday season approaches and the temperature decreases, I find myself in search of two things. The first is tamales, which can be found all around Houston throughout the year, but taste so deliciously better as the days become shorter. Every family gathering mandates a few dozen pa’ la dieta. The other dish I crave during this time of the year is pozole, the traditional Mexican soup that is also a staple of many posadas, Christmas parties, and Año Nuevo.

I thought hunting for good pozole would be easy. After all, it is pozole season. It turns out Houston is more of a menudo town. I called, texted, and visited at least a dozen of my go-to taquerias and Mexican restaurants, and found that most of them don’t serve pozole at all. The few that do only serve pozole on the weekend. Menudo on the other hand is much more common, even available at most carnicerias in the city.

Pozole (pronounced poh-sew-léh) is a soup or stew commonly served with bone-in pork shank or shoulder, and although the most popular version is pozole rojo, varieties of pozole blanco or pozole verde are also common. Shredded chicken can also be substituted for the pork. The most important ingredient is hominy, a type of heirloom white dent corn kernel that provides a nutritious and earthy flavor.

Few things hit as hard as a hot bowl of soup, and pozole is definitely top tier. Its history can be traced back to pre-Columbian Mesoamerica, where Mayans and Aztecs were cultivating corn and adding meat to make pozole as a ceremonial dish. In modern times, pozole is made to serve at weddings, birthdays, and other celebrations, but can also be eaten as a hearty meal to provide strength for a hard day’s work.

On a cool November afternoon, a wonderful aroma lingered in the air at El Hidalguense in Spring Branch. Hand-made tortillas de maiz, ready to be rolled up and baptized with limón y sal, were topped and folded into a taco with barbacoa de borrego. A mariachi group dressed in white charro outfits sat down at the table next to mine, ready to devour a hot meal as they rushed from one gig to another. The large altar in honor of Our Lady of Guadalupe sat at the entrance, silent against the sounds of Marco Antonio Solis on the radio.

I couldn’t remember the last time I ate pozole in a restaurant. My brother Angel made pozole rojo when he hosted a posada for our family last Christmas. My amiga Saydee made a supremely delicious pozole verde on a frigid February when I visited her and her family in Brooklyn several years ago. When I do order a soup here at home, it’s usually either caldo de res or a big bowl of menudo.

The pozole came steaming hot, accompanied by a plate of shredded cabbage, sliced radishes and warm tortilla chips. The broth was bright red-orange, punctuated by large chunks of pork rising just above. Dipping my spoon revealed the hominy hiding underneath. My mouth watered in anticipation of the first bite.

A large piece of carne de puerco with lots of grano equaled the perfect spoonful. Rich flavors of chiles ancho and guajillo complemented the slow-cooked stewed meat and hearty kernels of corn. The accoutrement added brightness, freshness and texture to the dish. I devoured the bowl until only the broth remained, and then I finished it off like a kid drinking the last drops of milk from a big bowl of cereal.

Why is menudo more popular than pozole in Houston? The taste, texture and smell of beef tripe is an acquired flavor, while the pork and chicken of a pozole seems more aligned with the masses (and probably easier to digest too). El Hidalguense was one of only two restaurants in Houston that I found that serves pozole everyday (the other being Pico’s), and even then the server told me that they sell an equal amount of menudo and pozole throughout the week.

One thing is certain, when it’s cold outside, whether I’m hungry or hungover, it’s always going to be pozole season!