There are no words for “amino acid” in Nahuatl, the language of the Aztecs.

So how did the ancient Indigenous peoples of Mexico, Mesoamerica, even our current-day Southwest United States, know that eating jointly the plant matter trio of corn, beans, and squash provides a symbiosis of amino acids and protein approaching that of animal protein? Add to the bowl the ancient seed amaranth and it does.

Or how did they know that planting beans alongside corn—I mean next to, so that the beanstalk climbed the cornstalk—fixed nitrogen in the soil and thereby increased the corn’s yield?

They didn’t know that. But they did. Fascinating. Amazing. A grace.

And how did they know to take their great grain maize (we call it “corn”), once the kernels had dried, and to soak it, and boil it, and then to add some of the ashes from last night’s fire—think on that: they added cold wood ash from the hearth, like, why?—in what they said was “to nixtamalize”?

This ingenious process not only allows for the slipping off of the tough outer skin of the kernel, but the opening up of the grain to grinding into meal or flour (and, thus, the making of dozens and dozens of forms of corn to eat out of hand or in a panoply of preparations). Nixtamalization, to boot, reduces dangerous mycotoxins in the maize and opens up not only greater aroma and flavor than non-nixtamalized maize but also unlocks all potential protein within the grain itself. How did they know all that?

Yes, for close to 3,500 years throughout this hemisphere, those no-named, known-but-unknown amino acids. Awing. Wonderful.

Note that maize may have been exported and eagerly accepted throughout the world after its discovery hereabouts in the 1500s (it is the third most planted grain on the globe after wheat and rice) yet the process of nixtamalization has not. You keep your secret that you have happily shared with some of us, you amazing Aztecs, Mayans, and Indigenous folk—who live on to this day.

Ancient Mexico and Mesoamerica have blessed our modern eating in so many ways. It’s a true gift that these ways of eating, some thousands of years old, remain part of our diet today.

Merely look at the foodstuffs they gave us: chiles of matchless diversity; the tomato; all the great squashes such as the pumpkin, zucchini and chayote; the avocado and guava, to name just two fruits; beans to match the chiles in unmatchable diversity; the cacao pod and the chocolate made of it; and vanilla, an edible orchid.

How did they know that, by weight, those squashes (and their flowers and seeds, once cooked) are more nutritious in amino acids than equivalent measures of either maize, beans, amaranth, or even egg whites?

And before they received citrus from their Spanish conquistadors, did they realize how much both the essential vitamins C and A came by way of these many foods just mentioned? How did they know? They just did.

Side note: they also gave us the turkey. We forget that because we think Massachusetts did, but, nope, Mesoamerica did.

But always, these ancients knew about maize, in one early Guatemalan word called “kana,” meaning “our mother.” Corn and what they did—and their progeny continues to do—with it, remains their most stunning gift.

Nixtamalize it first, of course, then grind it and add water or broth and this gruel (called pozole, pinole, or atole) is breakfast or, heck, any meal. Grind it and moisten it and the dough rolls into a tortilla (which itself can be a holder, a platter or “plate,” an envelope such as a quesadilla, or a base, as with enchiladas). Surround a filling with it and then again with its ear’s husks and it’s the tamale.

Even though sometimes it’s just a napkin for wiping the lips when eating other foods. Ha.

The recipe here is a contemporary turn on the “holy trinity” of beans, corn, and squash. These are “the three sacred sisters” of its name.

Heirloom Three Sacred Sisters Salad

“Shinin’ Times at The Fort” by Holly Arnold Kinney (Fur Trade Press, 2010). Serves 4-6.

Ingredients

2 tablespoons unsalted butter

1 chayote squash, diced

1 1/2 cups fresh or frozen corn kernels, blanched and drained

1 1/2 cups cooked Anasazi or pinto beans, rinsed

1 green bell pepper, seeded and diced

1 red bell pepper, seeded and diced

Dressing:

1/4 cup white wine vinegar

Juice of half a lemon

2 tablespoons sugar

1 tablespoon minced fresh tarragon, or 1/2 teaspoon dried tarragon

3-5 tablespoons olive oil

Salt and freshly ground pepper to taste

4 to 6 sprigs of fresh cilantro, for garnish

1/3 cup hulled sunflower seeds, lightly toasted, for garnish

Directions

In a skillet over medium-high heat, melt the butter. Add the diced chayote and sauté for 2-3 minutes, until slightly softened and beginning to brown.

In a salad bowl, combine the vinegar, lemon juice, sugar, and tarragon. Gradually whisk in the olive oil. Taste and season with salt and pepper. Add the corn, beans, squash, and bell peppers. Toss the salad, then let chill for 1 hour. Serve garnished with fresh cilantro and toasted sunflower seeds.

What is Pastel de Choclo?

Pastel de choclo is what we would call a layered casserole or a sort of shepherd’s pie, consisting of a topping of a sweet corn polenta over a savory ground beef filling, separated by and further flavored with a vein of chopped hard-boiled eggs, golden raisins, and sliced olives. When skillfully assembled, with the best ingredients, its simplicity is irresistible.

“Choclo” is the word for “corn” to Chile’s Indigenous people, the Mapuche. Sold in this country under the same name, it is a South American variety of corn with kernels larger, less sweet, and whiter than common North American cob corn, although to make your own pastel de choclo, you may use the latter. (I have made it both ways.)

You’ll find frozen choclo in Latin or Mexican markets, and in many Asian groceries. I add whole milk to my mash of yellow North American corn in order to sweeten and moisten it some.

When finished baking (or, better, just a few moments before taking it from the oven), add a dusting of confectioner’s sugar. The top of a perfect pastel de choclo will have pulled away from the edge of the pot where it has caramelized, and when you break through the polenta in pursuit of the meat, a steam will rise, searingly hot and with the aromas of onion, beef, sweet raisins, and of choclo, of the earth.

Pastel De Choclo (Chilean Beef and Corn Casserole)

Translated by Bill St. John from “El Libro de Doña Petrona,” 81st edition, by Petrona C. de Gandulfo (Editorial Presencia Ltda., 1992), for decades the most popular cookbook in both Argentina and Chile. The only addition to the original recipe is the whole milk.

Ingredients

3 medium onions, chopped finely, separated into two batches

6 tablespoons butter

2 tablespoons neutral vegetable oil

3 cups corn or choclo, unfrozen

1 cup whole milk (if using North American yellow sweet corn)

2 plum tomatoes, peeled and chopped well

1 clove garlic, peeled and minced

1 tablespoon sugar

1 1/2 pounds ground beef

1/2 cup golden raisins

1/3 cup green olives, pitted, roughly chopped

3 hard-boiled eggs, peeled, roughly chopped

Salt and grated pepper, throughout, to taste

Directions

In a pot over medium-high heat, sauté one batch of the onions in 3 tablespoons butter and 1 tablespoon oil until soft and lightly golden, about 5-6 minutes. Meanwhile, put the corn or choclo and the milk, if using, into a food processor and blend, pulsing and scraping down, until roughly blended and pasty. Add the tomato and garlic to the onions, cook for another 2-3 minutes, then add the processed corn or choclo, salt and pepper to taste, and the sugar, and mix together, cooking and stirring until the porridge begins to bubble and slightly thicken. Remove from the heat and set aside.

Prepare the beef: To another large pot, add 3 tablespoons butter and 1 tablespoon oil and sauté the second batch of onions until soft and slightly golden, about 5-6 minutes. Add the ground beef and brown the meat, breaking it up, until the beef appears browned throughout and has given up any juices. (If very wet, strain away some of juice in the next step.) Salt and pepper the beef, remove from the heat and set aside.

While the beef is cooking, in a bowl mix the raisins, olives, and hard-cooked eggs. Together, they will form a layer in the next step.

Heat the oven to 375 degrees. In a large buttered or greased earthenware casserole or Dutch oven, place and flatten the meat mixture, and top that with the raisins, pitted olives, and egg, evenly scattered about. Then evenly spread the cooked corn mixture over all. Bake, uncovered, for 30-45 minutes, until the filling is bubbling hot and the corn mixture is golden brown. Let rest for 15 minutes before serving, but serve very warm.

Reach Bill St. John at [email protected]