I was conflicted as to whether I even wanted to like this mole recipe. Here’s the thing: my big culinary triumph is/was making mole from scratch one time in 2011. I used this recipe. The 2 hour cooking time on that recipe is a prank. It took me and, eventually, D, 6 plus hours of intense, hands-on cooking. Here’s a picture of all of the ingredients that went into the mole:
Well, not the dish soap. Anyway, I had planned to take pictures at every major step. Then I spilled hot chicken broth all over my brand new phone and convinced myself to focus on cooking. The end result?
Man, was that good. It was such a hassle to fry and blend and cook and wait and fry and worry and wait some more, but oh my was it good.
Which is why I was so conflicted about this recipe. On one hand, if it’s just as good, then I’ve found a way to short-circuit 6 hours of madness using the slow cooker. On the other hand, if it’s just as good, then my great culinary triumph was roughly on par with making a pot roast.
Thus, I am equally disappointed and relieved to tell you, dear readers, that this is in no way as good as real mole. What it was missing was the depth of flavor. This recipe is like a cheap bottle of wine: the flavor is pretty much there, but it’s not as deep, not as complicated. Which is not to say that this isn’t good. It is. This is a fine recipe for what I’m forced to call imitation mole. And it’s exceedingly easy.
The pilaf? Um, it’s rice with peas and almonds. It tastes like….rice with peas and almonds. I think we can leave it at that.