September Tastes Like Independance: The Story of Chiles en Nogada

How a stuffed pepper became a symbol of Mexican Independence

I have always loved stuffed peppers. So when I started seeing chiles en nogada appearing on menus around San Miguel de Allende, I didn't need much persuading. A roasted poblano stuffed with a savory-sweet filling, covered in creamy walnut sauce and scattered with ruby-red pomegranate seeds? What's not to love?

It took me a while to realize I was eating the Mexican flag.

The green of the chile, the white of the nogada and the red of the pomegranate mirror the colors of Mexico's flag. Suddenly, this elaborate little September dish I'd been ordering simply because I loved it had a much bigger story.

Chiles en nogada is one of the foods most closely associated with Día de la Independencia (Mexican Independence Day), and you don't see it everywhere year-round. It has a season.

As August gives way to September, restaurants begin putting it on their menus, markets fill with the ingredients, and suddenly everyone seems to have an opinion about where to find the best one.

Then, almost as quickly as it arrived, it disappears.

That's because Mexican Independence Day isn't just another date on the calendar. And here in San Miguel de Allende, it feels particularly significant.

San Miguel is deeply woven into the story of Mexican independence. On September 16, 1810, Miguel Hidalgo y Costilla issued his famous call to revolt from the nearby town of Dolores, setting in motion the struggle that would eventually free Mexico from Spanish rule. Ignacio Allende, another key figure in the independence movement, was born here, and the city was later renamed San Miguel de Allende in his honor.

And Independence Day here isn't really a one-day affair.

As an American, I'm used to July 4 being the big event: one day of flags, barbecues, parades and fireworks, and then, more or less, everyone gets back to normal.

In San Miguel, September feels different. Independence builds over days, with fireworks, parades, music and celebrations filling the streets. There are historical reenactments, including scenes from the independence movement, and the whole city seems to become part history lesson, part street party.

Mexican flags appear on balconies, doorways and streets. Green, white, and red decorations take over the city. Papel picado stretches overhead. Mariachi spills into the streets. Fireworks crack overhead night after night.

And then comes September 15, when everyone gathers for El Grito, the ceremonial cry of independence. The bells ring, the cry goes up:

¡Viva México!

And the crowd answers.

It is loud, very emotional, patriotic and wonderfully chaotic.

And somewhere in all of this celebration is a much quieter tradition: celebrating through food.

That's where chiles en nogada comes in.

There are many variations, but essentially a poblano chile is roasted and peeled, then stuffed with picadillo, traditionally a mixture of meat, dried fruit, nuts, and fresh fruit. It is covered with a cool, creamy sauce made from walnuts, then finished with pomegranate seeds and parsley.

There are several stories about how chiles en nogada became associated with Mexican Independence, although the details are debated. The most famous legend says the dish was created by the Augustinian nuns of the convent of Santa Mónica in Puebla in 1821 to celebrate Agustín de Iturbide, one of the leaders of the independence movement, when he visited the city during his journey through Mexico after independence was achieved.

Whether that story is historically accurate is another matter. Food history, like family history, has a way of acquiring a few embellishments along the way.

There are also hints that the dish has older roots. Versions of walnut-based nogada appear in Mexican culinary traditions before 1821, although these earlier preparations were not necessarily the savory chile we know today. The truth, as with so many beloved dishes, is probably less tidy than the legend. But perhaps that doesn't matter quite as much as what chiles en nogada became.

And perhaps that's what makes it so perfect for September. It is elaborate and celebratory, but it is also deeply seasonal. The walnuts, pomegranates, chiles and fruit all come together at roughly the same time of year, which means this isn't simply a dish someone decided should be patriotic. It belongs to the season.

And in San Miguel, you really notice the season.

One restaurant has its version. Another insists theirs is better. Some serve the chile covered completely in nogada; others leave more of the poblano showing. Some fillings lean sweeter; others more savory. Some are battered and fried; others aren't. I have even seen the chilies topped with golden walnuts for a little extra flair!

There is no shortage of opinions.

Which, of course, makes it even more fun to eat your way through September.