(gentle music) Welcome to my world. (upbeat music) Two escargot, pate, frisee. Two green salads. Okay, that is sauce here. Lamb chops, steak frites. Shouldn't you be
doing something? Two smoked filet
and a pepper steak. Come on, make the dessert. Chocolate tart, please. As a cook, tastes and
smells are my memories. Now I'm in search of new ones. So I'm leaving New York
City and hope to have a few epiphanies
around the world and I'm willing to go to
some lengths to do that. I am looking for extremes
of emotion and experience. I'll try anything,
I'll risk everything. I have nothing to lose. (donkey braying) Where do cooks come from? Why are so many great
cooks in New York from Mexico and from
Puebla in particular? Why are almost all of
the cooks in my kitchen from this little
village in Puebla? Why am I wearing a silly hat? The answer to this and
other questions to follow. (upbeat Latin music) In the 25 years or so that
I've been working as a chef, I've come to realize that no one in my kitchen crew
understands and appreciates the American dream better
than a non-American. Frisee, (speaking
in foreign language) followed by two (speaking
in foreign language), special fish, pepper steak. I need a rush steak
frite, please. The Mexican cooks who
work in my kitchen back in New York are some of
the best in New York City. They work hard,
cook brilliantly. They're really the engine
behind our French brasserie. I wanted to see where
these guys come from. I wanted to discover where
they get their stuff. Especially Eddie Perez,
my long time sous chef and the backbone of Les Halles. Great guy, hardest working
cook on the planet, and a close confidant
and associate, like all of my cooks
from Puebla, Mexico. I want somebody's mother
to cook for me in Mexico. I don't care whose mother. Your mother, his mother,
somebody's mother. We're gonna have a good time. It's gonna be great. Yeah, no problem, I
can ride a donkey. So I'm heading off to
Izucar de Matamoros, a small town south
of Puebla City to hook up with Eddie. He's gonna show me
around his hometown, introduce me to has family, and show me how come
he's such a good cook. Eddie, come on. Give me a hug, you big lug. Yeah (mumbling). How you doing? I suspect his mother here
had something to do with it. Tell her I'm very
happy to be here. My wife. What's everybody's names
so I can remember them? [Eddie] (mumbling)
this is my daughter. (Tony mumbling) Lupe. [Tony] Eddie saved up
enough working as my sous chef to buy the house he grew up
in and a small ranch nearby. He's got several
days of festivities lined up for me. Tony, there's
the little kitchen. Cocina, good. [Eddie] Cocina. [Tony] Eddie takes me
outside to show me where all the women in has family are
preparing the evening meal. Looking good, woo! [Eddie] Banana, look. Wow, it's beautiful. Hi. In Mexico, outdoor kitchens are where they make
the really good stuff. (gentle music) Apparently, the women
do all the cooking. His mom, his wife,
friends, neighbors, assorted babysitters,
all pitch in to make the big dinner. Looking good. I'm beginning to see
where my guys back in New York get the relentless
energy and technique. Hanging around
these women all day, they must have learned
everything through osmosis. I recognize my
broiler man's face in a woman in Eddie's backyard. I say, wait a minute,
is that Antonio's mom? And I'm right. It is his mom. I also learn that Isidoro's mom lives right across the
street, and Eddie tells me that another cook's mom
lives right next door. Geraldo's mom? Yeah (mumbling). While Antonio's mom makes tortillas until
the cows come home, (cow mooing) others are making tamales,
salsas, and God knows what else. (upbeat guitar music) Tortillas are like
bread in Mexico. They will accompany
tonight's big meal, mole poblanos
served with turkey. Hey! That's for poblano. Oh, haven't killed a turkey yet. (dramatic Spanish guitar music) Unfortunately, I've been
asked to kill the turkey. I'm sorry my friend,
today is your day. (upbeat country guitar music) Now, I typically don't
kill my own poultry, but I guess it's high time I
at least do it once myself. Okay, drink it up. The tradition is, a jigger
of mezcal before the deed offers more tender and
flavorful turkey meat. And then down like this? [Wife] No, no. Eddie's wife has to step in and show me the
proper technique. Oh, man okay. Proving that once again, women
are really in charge here. Now I know what's for dinner. Never plucked anything before. This is a first for me. I haven't plucked so
much as an eyebrow. The turkey's then
cut up into pieces and simmered for several hours. Oh, yeah, I recognize him. (sizzling) While the turkey is stewing, Eddie's wife Laura and her
team of mole specialists are making the
classic mole poblano. Essentially, a mixture
of dried chiles, chocolate, bread fried in oil. Also bananas, vanilla, seeds
from the roasted peppers and some other spices
ground up in a hand mill. Then everything
gets put in a bucket and taken to the molino, the community mill to get
ground up into a smooth paste. The mole paste is added
to broth from the turkey and simmers for several hours. These ladies rock. These are the mole poblano. I have maybe a hundred
different kind mole but this is the really,
really, mole poblano. This is nice color. (gentle guitar music) Eddie's really
carved out a little bit of heaven here as
far as I'm concerned. Kids running around the yard, great smells coming
from the kitchen. He's got the right idea. At sunset, our big dinner
of mole poblano is served. Wow, look at this.
It's beautiful. Aw, man. Look at that. Mole poblano, a classic. A relay team of five,
six, seven, nine women. I almost feel guilty
that all these people have been slaving away all day while I just sit back and enjoy
the fruits of their labor. This is an incredible sauce. The mole poblano is fabulous. A subtle mixture of
bananas, peppers, chocolates, sprinkled
with toasted sesame seeds. [Woman] Enchiladas. These enchiladas. Mm, as if the mole poblano
wasn't a meal in itself, out comes a platter
of turkey enchiladas made with fresh corn tortillas, a little cheese, some mole, topped with some crunchy
onions and radishes. Well, the enchiladas are great. Oh, really good. Now it's all
becoming clear to me where Eddie gets his chops. With family like this,
cooking is in his blood. Well, this was am amazing
effort that everyone did. Fantastic. (applauding) (gentle guitar music) (upbeat Latin music) I'm really digging
my stay in Puebla. The people are warm and
friendly and the food is hearty. Eddie decides to
show me around town where we'll hook up
with his buddy, Martin, a man who's determined
to show us a few Mexican delicacies that even
Eddie hasn't tried. (dramatic Spanish guitar) Worms and ant eggs. Martin has arranged
this meal at one of the town's biggest
hotel restaurants. You know what I need? I'm at a big, fancy hotel. I need a big, fancy
hotel margarita. That's what I need. (upbeat Latin music) And Martin has had worms before
and remembers them fondly. Eddie's never had them
which unnerves me a bit. So what do they taste like? They taste like,
at the beginning, a little bit like
pork skin because they are very, well done, fried. [Tony] Okay, I like pork skin. Okay, so they're crispy
at the beginning and then they have a special flavor
I cannot describe it because it's so, so special. I hear the word special, I get very nervous. (laughing) So, how do you prepare
ant eggs, you ask? Well, you saute
some chopped onions and butter, add some jalapenos and chopped, fresh bay leaf and then mix in
the fresh ant eggs. It's that simple. A perfect quick dish
for those late nights home from work when
the husband and kids are yapping for their dinner. And for the worms, first get some
fresh, maguey worms. Make sure they're fresh
and give them a quick fry. I'm told that we're lucky
because even though it's not quite worm season,
they were able to pull some strings and
wrangle some up. Remember, presentation
is half the battle, so carve something
pretty to put on top. (bright music) [Cameraman] Are you nervous? I can do this. Ever eat a Twinkie? You know, a Twinkie, it's
crunchy on the outside (mimicking squishing) and soft in the middle. Ugh. [Tony] Ugh. Disgusting. Disgusting. It's good, man. I'm gonna like this, I know it. I'm like, Eddie, you eat
this all the time, right? He says, oh no, I've never
had this, it looks disgusting. [Martin] Okay,
you get some worms. Okay, now, get some guacamole, green salsa for me, a
little salt, drops of lime. I'm gonna let him lead. So what do you think,
Eddie, verde or chipotle? [Eddie] Chipotle, for
me, I like chipotle. Okay, I gotta listen
to my sous chef. Eddie, come man,
you're scaring me. Where's the lime at? (mumbling) Mm, mm. This is good. - It's good, huh?
- Yeah. I told you. It's like pork skin. Pork skin, right. Right, you get that same
kind of crispy, crunchy. Now, moving on to the ant eggs. Now here's what I want to know, how come the ant eggs
are bigger than the ant? [Martin] This is
(speaking in foreign language). - Alright.
- They know how to cook it. Don't tell me to (mumbling). - It smell good, huh?
- Yeah, I like this. This is perfectly good. [Eddie] Yeah. Yeah, worms, I like
the worms better. Okay. [Tony] You were
right, they're good. Okay, now we're talking. The ant eggs themselves, have this slightly woody,
almost fungal aftertaste, meaning, you know,
mushroom-like. These on the other hand, it's all about texture
and not much flavor. There is sort of a slightly
smoky background, but basically, the salsas and the
guacamole override the worm. Both of them are good. I'm gonna tell you, you could serve
this as a party dip. As long as no one
knew what it was, people would say,
oh, it's fabulous. If it was just
between you and me, cook to cook,
don't tell anybody, but I'll tell you something. The worms were the
best part of that meal. Yeah. At the time, the
worms weren't so bad, but to be honest, I would
not revisit the experience. Our jaunt through town
continues well into the evening. Martin steers us all towards
what is commonly known as a pulqueria, a kind
of makeshift dive bar where one can sample
the local poison. In one of my favorite
books, Under the Volcano, the alcoholic hero
spends a lot of time in pulquerias drinking
the local brew. It sounded atmospheric and
wonderful and a little bit scary. Just the sort of thing I
wanted to do while in Mexico. That's the stuff, huh? That's the stuff. [Tony] Pulque is the
sap from the maguey cactus fermented in a bathtub
someplace til it gets alcoholic. It's a classic,
low-rent daytime drink for poor Mexicans and it
goes back to the Aztecs. And you can put salt and soda in it or natural, whatever. I think let's go natural. You know, I'm famous
for being (mumbling). Cheers, guys. (glasses clanking) Pulque tastes good,
but it goes down hard. And consistency is
tricky, tricky, tricky. It's like drinking
a bucket of snot. Yeah, let's take our
little pail over. The plastic bucket, by the way, does not add to the appetizing
nature of the mucus. - You see.
- Right. Kind of sticky. Martin keeps dipping his
finger in it and then pulling it out and explaining how it's
got to be gooey like this. I was not ready to see that. Everybody, it has to go
all the way like a chain. Yeah, disgusting. (laughing) I expected you know, a couple
guys with some bandoleros, maybe some dogs, some chickens, but pulque's good and
it is suitably low rent. It's at on alley,
I'm enjoying this. The taste hangs with you, so
all the way back into town I'm keeping in mind, that you
know, underneath the pulque, I have a nice solid base
of ant eggs and worms. I puked like a hero
all night long. (upbeat instrumental music) (upbeat music) (crowd murmuring) Eddie has really kept our
agenda full here in Puebla. Okay, we're at (speaking in
foreign language) market. Yeah, this a (speaking in
foreign language) market. What are we doing? We're shopping for the party. Yeah, we're shopping
for the party. Eddie's throwing a big
blast at his ranch tonight. Yes. Everybody's coming. We're here to shop. First up, ingredients
for a fruit salad. Papaya. Now who made this list. You made this list? Yeah, I make this list. [Tony] The sous chef
makes the order list. Yeah, (mumbling). At the restaurant, and in life. It's just like Les Halles. My sous chef and
me, side by side, foraging for the
day's ingredients. You can't ask for
much more than this. That's really pretty. (gentle music) The zucchini blossom quesadillas
just too good to pass up. Well, let's have one of those. They start with a ball of raw
tortilla dough pressed flat. Zucchini blossoms. What looks like just a
little bit of pork fat. Oy, flavor, sabor. It's (speaking in foreign
language), fresh cheese. That is beautiful
in a quesadilla. That just makes it so cool. This is my idea of a market. Great stuff to buy,
great stuff to eat. That's my idea of breakfast. So our shopping's done. Yeah, the shopping's done. Alright, next we
prep for the party. But before we leave,
Eddie tells me, no trip to the ranch is complete
without the proper attire. (upbeat country music) Hey. Oh yeah, feels right. You find your hat, I found, looking
good, looking good. He's styling now. I'm ready for the ranch. Eddie has a house and ranch
near Izucar de Matamoros and he visits one
or two times a year. So you live in that house? You're in the center. Here you're (mumbling). Alright, Tony. Already home. It's a pretty big spread. I think he's got almost
a whole mountain. The number of animals he has, turkeys, goats, chickens,
roosters, horses. (goat braying) It's a veritable zoo. Still reeling from the after
effects of the pulqueria, Eddie and I ease into
a supervisory role, overseeing a height of activity, prepping for tonight's fiesta. We have saute setting
up right over there, And we have the grill and
roast station over there on the (speaking in foreign
language), making rice. Eddie's in-house mole expert
and resident tortilla maker, are busy preparing arroz. Rice, the mixture
of tomato, puree, chicken stock and
fresh cilantro. And of course, tortillas
hot off the comal. (Western music) I volunteered. I mean, any time, I'm
ready to start working. What? Yeah, you want me to cut food? You know, potatoes, dig a hole. Eddie takes me up on
my offer and we get to work on a fruit salad. [Man] Yeah, it's just like
Les Halles, right Eddie? I feel like I'm working prep. (upbeat music) Alright, I've worked enough. I think it's time to
check on our good friend, Mr. Barbecue Goat. Aw, that's it right here. Oh, nice. Here's some cooking
the men actually do. They're grilling. Eddie's ranch hands
begin preparation for tonight's main entree. Goat's head soup. [Eddie] Oh, have some of this. - Bay leaf?
- Bay leaf. Tripes, and a head. Goat's head soup. That's gonna be cooked
on the open fire, right? In the pit there. Actually, Eddie's made
this at the restaurant for the family, it's
really good, really good. Not a single piece of
this animal goes to waste. To cook the goat,
they dig a pit, they fill it with wood,
stones, and charcoal. That's hot, that's real hot. I want one of these
for Les Halles. (laughing) Throw the bus boys in. They put in the goat's
head soup on the bottom, right on the coals, with
a layer of avocado leaves. Oh, the heads go right
in without the leaves. I've never seen this before. This is really cool. They also put in
a stuffed stomach with assorted blood and spice and herb stuffing with a
little onion and garlic. I'm liking this, man,
this is very cool. It's not like my barbecue. And on top, go the goats. Whole, still on the bone,
butterflied for even cooking. This is really cool. I feel privileged to see this. A wet mat goes on top
and the whole thing is covered up with sand and dirt and left there for about three
and a half to four hours. This is like a
scene in Goodfellas. When I die, do that to me. No actually, I'd be
no good, I'd be tough. Eddie tells me we're gonna
have ice cream at the party. Somehow, I don't think this
means a trip to Baskin Robbins. His uncle sends someone
along to the party to make a lime
sorbet, the old way. An old man shows up
with a wooden bucket, fresh fruit sugar,
some ice, some salt, and goes to work, had-cranking
nonstop for a solid hour. That's how they do it at
Ben and Jerry's, right? Maybe not. Oh, man that's good. Number one. It's spectacular. I never thought I'd be
sitting in a mountain in Mexico, a ranch,
wearing cowboy boots and a cowboy hat,
drinking Mexican beer with my good friend, Eddie. Four hours later, Eddie
and I return to the pit. (instrumental country music) Delicioso, perfecto. The goat meat is good. I'd been told to expect
tough and stringy. It isn't. It's actually very tender
and really, really tasty. [Eddie] See, there's the
consomme, look at the consomme. Next, they pull out
the goat's head soup, stomach and heads cooked to
perfection and ready to eat. It's gonna be great
and a a lot of liquor. A lot of beer, a
lot of everything. (Spanish guitar music) The party has officially begun and we're about to be served
this long awaited meal. We're eating, man, huh? First course, goat's head soup. Oh, yeah. I've been waiting for this. (mumbling) goat's head soup. Goat's head soup, yeah. - Good, right?
- Aw. The soup is
fantastic, just great. A little bit of tripe, a little about of meat,
a little bit of head, a little bit of tongue, a little bit of this and that. It's superb. One of the best things I've
eaten in all of Mexico. Off the record, on the record,
this soup is incredible. All that goat juice
running into it. It don't get more
magic than this. (upbeat Latin music) Great music. Great company. What else is there? (applauding and cheering) (upbeat Latin music) So I'm having a grand, old time, kicking back with my cerveza, enjoying the live entertainment. And then everything
comes to a grinding halt. (record scratching) [Man] Come out
here, come out here. (laughing) [Tony] After shoveling
down several portions of goat innards, I'm asked to
jump on top of Trigger here and prance around in front of all of Eddie's
family and friends. I feel like an idiot and this can't be
good for my digestion. In fact, I think
Trigger here has gas. So aside from the
fact that I just made a complete ass of myself, I have only gratitude
and admiration for Eddie and his
family who work like Trojans for
days feeding me. I'm eternally in their debt. (gentle Latin music) Puebla, Mexico where
the good cooks are from. (energetic music) (moody lounge music)
