Molcajetes, Baby

On a recent trip to Oaxaca my spouse bought a molcajete on the very first day.  We were at the fantastic Sunday market in Tlacalula, and who could blame him for his enthusiasm, especially after our lunch.  We had goat barbacoa and he was in the groove.  We needed a way to make this food at home and a molcajete seemed like an essential took to accomplish that.

It was my idea to go to Oaxaca, and I really wanted my spouse to enjoy it as much as I did, and so while part of me was wondering how in the world we were going to manage to pack this large piece of rock in our suitcase, another part of me was thinking that if we could bring 8 cases of wine home from France we could surely get a modestly sized molcajete safely home.

Our molcajete is so much more beautiful at home than it appeared in this market.  I love it's painted flower sides and projecting pig face.  It reminds me of the place that we bought it (and the man who made it).  A good lesson to relearn is that while there may be a dozen of them everywhere you go, when you get it home it will be the only one.  Not to mention that it is an entirely functional member of our kitchen tool collection.