Persimmon Jam, yet another persimmon recipe (1940s)

I know, I know!  You are thinking, "ANOTHER persimmon recipe??"  Did I mention I had a lot of persimmons?  And, well, The California Cook Book also had a recipe for persimmon jam.  (See the February 1 and March 1 posts for the other persimmon recipes.)

Found on Archive.org.

Mine are Fuyu persimmons, which means they are not astringent if not fully ripe, unlike the Hachiya variety I learned to eat first.  You can eat them when they are crisp-firm like an apple or softer or (my favorite) so soft they are like eating pudding.  That is when they are the sweetest.  

Pages 319 - 320

Ms. Callahan said the persimmons for her jam need to be as soft as jelly, and so I saved a bunch of the very soft ones just for this recipe.  They didn't all get soft at the same time, so I kept them in the refrigerator while waiting for enough to make the recipe.  Some were much riper than others.

My Redaction with Notes

2 cups persimmon pulp from very ripe persimmons

2 cups sugar

I used a few more persimmons than what you see here to get 2 cups.

My persimmons were so ripe that cutting them up was not an option.  I broke open the skin and used a spoon to scoop out the pulp.  Remove the seeds as needed -- not all persimmons have seeds, but some do.  I did not include the skin.

Instead of pushing the pulp through a sieve, I used a stick blender to puree it.

I chose to use a double boiler and set the water level so it went up the sides of the insert.  

After I mixed the pulp and the sugar, I put the insert into the double boiler for about 20 minutes, stirring occasionally, while the pulp got to "simmer" temperature.  I noticed it steamed a little at that time and a few bubbles formed along the edge of the mixture.

The clean jars were filled with water and heated in the microwave for 10 minutes to help sterilize them.  I was not intending to fully can the jam, just get it in very clean jars to store in the refrigerator.

Then I set the timer for 20 minutes and stirred the mixture continuously while it cooked.  I noticed it got thicker as the time went on. 

I ladled the jam into the empty, hot jars, put on the lids, then put them into the refrigerator.

Two cups pulp.

Pureed.

See the bubbles?  I call that "simmering."

Inside the blue circle you can see a little pile-up of jam.  Thicker!

Three jars like this and a little extra.

The Verdict

I managed to keep the mixture from boiling and noticed that the maximum temperature was 175 degrees F.  So I had hoped for no bitterness.

The jam was beautifully thick; just right I would say, for spreading (or even eating off the spoon).

Beautiful!

The flavor was fascinating.  I know it was just persimmons and sugar, but I would swear it tasted like it had spices in it, like cinnamon and ginger or allspice.  I got the persimmon flavor and the sweetness, but it wasn't too sweet, which surprised me.  And no bitterness!  

The texture was intriguing, too.  It was pretty smooth, which is probably because I pureed the pulp.  It also had a slight gelatinous quality to it.  Not in an off-putting way.  I'm not sure what caused that.

So success!  

When I was first contemplating the recipe, I thought I would probably want to add spices to it, but I know now it is not necessary.  The only adaptation I might make would be to add a little lime juice to the jam once it was cooked and before it went into the jars.  Just a thought, anyway.

Fluffy Fruit Dressing, AKA Women's Club Fruit Dressing (1940s)

In the two previous posts I wrote about Genevieve Callahan's The California Cook Book for Indoor and Outdoor Eating.  Click here to see the post with the dressing in it.

Found on archive.org.  An amazing source!

She mentioned a "Fluffy Fruit Dressing" several times but does not have a recipe specifically named that.  One clue she left was that it was in the dressing section, so after reading all the recipes carefully, I concluded that what she really meant was the "Women's Club Fruit Dressing." (Pages 38-39) It is a cooked, flavored dressing that is blended with whipped cream just before serving, thus "fluffy".  

To be fair, it could also be the recipe above it, "Old Fashioned Cooked Dressing" because it, too, is mixed with whipped cream when used with fruit salads.  But its main flavors are vinegar, mustard, and celery seed whereas the Women's Club dressing's flavors were mainly currant and lemon.

This seemed just right to go with the persimmon and pineapple salad.  And, as you saw in the previous post, it was!

My Notes

I could not find currant jelly at the store, but I did buy a jar of currant preserves -- currants in a sweetened syrup.  So I drained the syrup off the fruit by pressing it through a sieve and used 1/2 cup of the syrup.  I did not need to melt it because it was already liquid.

I think it is better to beat the egg whites with the salt and sugar before cooking the lemon, sugar, and yolks mixture.  That way you don't overcook the mixture while beating the whites and it is still hot when the whites are mixed in.

The yolk mixture never got thick while cooking, but it did thicken, so I call that a win.  After it chilled, it was thick.  

I used 1 1/4 cups heavy whipping cream that was, after beating, mixed with most of the cooked dressing.

The cooked dressing ingredients

With the currant syrup.

Folding in the egg whites.

              

Cooking is done.

The finished product.

The Verdict

Yes, this was good.  It was acidic from the lemon, flavorful from the lemon and currant, not too sweet, and the fluffy part was a nice complement to the persimmon and pineapple gelatin salad.

Everyone particularly liked the currant flavor, although most said they never had it before.  It adds a deep fruity flavor that balanced out the other flavors of the dish.

I wonder how it would taste if frozen like ice cream.  I think it would be a good topping on a vanilla cake or angel food cake, too.  Honestly, it was good just eaten off the spoon!

Success!  

Another Persimmon Salad from the 1940s

Did I happen to mention that I have a lot of persimmons in my kitchen?  And that I have an interest in exploring what California cuisine meant in the 1940s?

The first recipe I posted using persimmons and relating to California cuisine was a persimmon salad that was so basic:  whole, peeled persimmons embedded in lemon gelatin.  That's it!  It was tasty and light, so it was a success.  You can see the post by clicking here:  Persimmon Salad from the 1940s.

Today's post is from the same book, The California Cook Book for Indoor and Outdoor Eating by Genevieve Callahan.

For Indoor and Outdoor Eating

On pages 42 - 43, she offered another version, this one more elaborate.

Jellied Persimmon Salad

3 large, very ripe persimmons

20 ounce can crushed pineapple

3 ounce box lemon-flavored gelatin

dash salt

"Fluffy fruit dressing"*

Those persimmons are as soft as pudding.

Choose a container to act as a mold for the salad.  It needs to hold at least 4 cups volume.  Lightly spray it with non-stick cooking spray and then wipe out the excess.  

Open can of pineapple, pour into a colander over a bowl so the fruit drains and you save the liquid.

Pull off and discard the tops of the persimmons then use a spoon and your fingers to start peeling.  At a certain point it becomes easier to just scoop the pulp out of the skin.

Put pulp in a bowl and mash thoroughly with a potato masher.  Remove and discard any seeds.

Mix in 1 cup crushed pineapple.  Cover and put in the refrigerator.

Add enough water to the pineapple juice to make 1 1/2 cups.   

Heat in the microwave for 2 to 2 1/2 minutes or until boiling.  Alternatively, heat on the stove.

Add the gelatin and stir vigorously until it is clear or mostly so.

Put the gelatin in the refrigerator.  Cool until slightly thickened.

Add a dash of salt and fold in the fruit.

Pour into the mold, shake or tap to level it and remove any air bubbles.

Refrigerate until solid.

Serve as suggested by Ms. Callahan.

*Fluffy fruit dressing recipe will be in the next post.

My Notes

I didn't have three large persimmons, so I used 1 large and four small.  They were very ripe, dark orange and squishy to the touch.

My pineapple came in juice, not syrup, but I didn't worry about have less sugar in the dish.  There was precisely 1 cup liquid.

I chilled the gelatin in a glass measuring cup for 1 hour, 45 minutes, which was too long.  It wasn't "slightly thickened," it was thick but not fully set.  I crossed my fingers and proceeded with the recipe anyway.

My main concern was that the gelatin with all the fruit in it would not set up all the way, or at all.  All I could do was hope.

The mold chilled overnight.  When I took the salad out of the mold, I rubbed the mold all over with a hot, damp cloth to loosen the gelatin.

Persimmon pulp, crushed pineapple, and liquid gelatin.

Chilled!

The Verdict

I took it to a friendly barbeque gathering and presented it as a salad.  People were surprised that it wasn't a dessert, but I emphasized that the cookbook author claimed it was a salad and that it wasn't very sweet.

One person was somewhat skeptical about eating it at all, claiming that having grown up in the midwest, his experience with gelatin-based dishes was not very positive.  But he was willing to try it.

I did not serve it on a bed of lettuce, as Ms. Callahan suggested.  I simply tipped the mold out onto a plate and put a big spoonful of the fluffy fruit dressing in the middle.  The rest of the dressing was served on the table so people could choose to add more as they liked.

My first reaction was that it was pretty.  The gelatin was orange from the persimmons.  The visual texture was nice, too, as the crushed pineapple was lighter in color than the persimmon pulp in contrast and the pieces of fruit gave depth to the presentation.  Also, the dressing was a soft pink color, which looked good with the gelatin.

Out of the mold and with the dressing.  Extra dressing in the upper right corner.

As for the taste, I liked it!  Even better than the previous persimmon salad.  It was more complex in flavor, had an interesting texture while chewing, and, as several guests said, "it was balanced."  It was not too sweet and the lemon-persimmon-pineapple flavors worked well together.  The dressing was tart with the flavors of currant and lemon, which is what everyone thought made the entire combination balanced.  Not sweet but sweet-and-tart.  The fluffy dressing contrasted well with the more solid gelatin.

Several people wanted me to mention that they took a second serving, and that was a compliment.  

As for my midwest skeptic?  He tried it and liked it!  He said that the balance of flavors and the way all the parts came together made him realize what the gelatin dishes of his childhood should have been like.  

My only complaint is that the gelatin was too soft.  That could be because the gathering was outside and it was sunny, but it slumped as time went on and the leftovers never firmed up again, even after being refrigerated.  I also wonder if I waited too long to mix in the fruit and salt.  I think that there was enough liquid between the pineapple juice and water and persimmon pulp that it may have needed more gelatin.  A small boost from a packet of unflavored gelatin would have worked, as well as using a larger box of flavored gelatin.

Ms. Callahan notes elsewhere in the book that the pinch of salt gives two advantages:  it helps to set the gelatin and it brings out the flavors in the dish.  I guess it worked because my guest tasters liked it!

Success!

See the next post for the recipe for the "Fluffy Fruit Dressing", which is a recipe called the "Women's Club Fruit Dressing."

 

A Persimmon Salad from the 1940s

I have lived in California all my life, so it is easy for me to take the abundance we have for granted.  While I have traveled around the United States and in a few other countries, I don't always recognize that the climate we have is different in a wonderful kind of way.  Where I live, we have a mild climate year-round with the opportunity to grow a variety of fruits, nuts, and vegetables.  

That got me wondering, "What exactly IS California cuisine?"  Sure, I can look around me now and see all the current influences, but what fun is that?  I wanted to know what made California cuisine distinct in prior decades.  Then I recalled that there was a big influx of people arriving in the first half of the 20th century, including my ancestors, who arrived in the 1930s and 1940s.

This website, California Migration History 1850-2022, offers clickable tabs on a chart showing the birthplaces of California residents to compare to the total population of the state.  For example, 1900 shows a population of  1.4 million with about 650,000 born in California, about 50%.  1910 and 1920 show about 37% born in CA, 1930 about 34%, 1940 and 1950 about 36%.  In other words, two-thirds of the population weren't born in the state!  During this time the population of California grew to 10.8 million (1950).

I looked for a cookbook that captured the cuisine of that time period, and I found The California Cook Book for Indoor and Outdoor Eating by Genevieve Callahan.  

For Indoor and Outdoor Eating

One aspect that makes California cuisine distinct, she pointed out, is the use of "Strange Fruits in Salads" (page 17).  In particular, in Southern California, subtropical fruits can be grown "as ornamentals."  She noted it is worth watching the local markets to get items such as mangos, papayas, guavas, cherimoyas, feijoas, passionfruits, white sapotas, kumquats, loquats, pomegranates, and persimmons.

It is persimmon season in my area and I have an abundance of them in my kitchen, thanks to a colleague whose trees "produce hundreds" and a local homeowner who sells them from his garage at an excellent price.

Ms. Callahan gave several recipes that use persimmons in salads, some in ways unusual to me.  

However, the first one I tried was so very basic:  lemon-flavored gelatin with whole persimmons embedded in it.  What attracted me to it was that she stated on page 26,

The Mission Inn Hotel and Spa is an iconic Riverside location.  It started as an adobe boarding house in 1876 and then became a full-service hotel in the early 1900s.  By the 1940s and early 1950s, it was a "place to be" because famous people stayed there, such as Albert Einstein, Booker T. Washington, Helen Keller, Clark Gable, and a variety of U. S. presidents.  But it later closed and became rundown and was almost demolished until purchased by the current owners in the 1980s who renovated it.  It has returned to being a beautiful location to stay, dine, and enjoy the spa.

I didn't want a "large ring mold" for two people to consume, but I do have some small gelatin molds that were deep enough to hold a small, peeled persimmon.  I wanted to see the persimmons "glowing" through the gelatin!

Here goes:

3 ounce package lemon-flavored gelatin

1 cup boiling water

1 cup cold water

6 small soft-ish persimmons

6 individual serving gelatin molds

Just add water!

Mix gelatin with the boiling water, stirring until it is dissolved -- the liquid looks clear.

Add the cold water and stir some more.

Pour a thin layer of gelatin into each mold.  Set into the refrigerator to chill until firmly solid (about 10 to 15 minutes).

While they are chilling, cut off the tops and then peel each persimmon.  If you see any seeds, remove those by cutting them out with a knife.  You should have at least one flat side on each persimmon -- note which is the most attractive side.

Remove the molds from the refrigerator.  Put one persimmon into each cup, setting the attractive side down on the gelatin and centering it in the mold.  Using a fork made it easy to control.

Pour the rest of the liquid gelatin into the molds, covering the persimmon with at least a very thin layer (if possible!).

Set molds back into the refrigerator and chill until solid.

To serve, put some very warm water into a shallow bowl.  Dip the molds in one at a time, without getting water onto the gelatin, leaving it very briefly.  Just enough to soften the sides of the gelatin.

Turn the mold over onto a plate to serve.

A thin layer to ensure the persimmon is enclosed.

I peeled extra, just in case.

The fork pokes into the "down" side.

The mold is full and the fruit is almost covered.

My Notes

My molds hold about 1/2 cup liquid each.  Once I added the persimmons, I ended up with 5 completely filled molds and several extra with just the bottom layers.  So let's say to plan for 6 molds.

Putting the molds in a small cake pan made it easy to transfer to/from the refrigerator.

The fork was poked into the non-attractive side of the persimmon, which allowed me to place it carefully on the gelatin and center it.  My fingers stayed out of the way.

It took over an hour for the gelatin in the filled molds to feel solid.  I let them chill much longer before I served them.

The Verdict

It was good!  I mean, for all that it was just lemon gelatin and persimmon, it was a light, refreshing salad.  The persimmon flavor goes well with the lemon, so that was a good pairing.

My guest taster thought it was fine.  Not earth-shattering as a recipe goes, but fine enough.

Did the persimmon glow through the gelatin?  You be the judge:

Pretty!

The persimmon was soft enough that it was easily cut with a knife, and the gelatin was firm enough that it held its shape after cutting.

As for presentation, I would probably serve this on a bed of dark green lettuce or spinach greens if for a salad.  It would also be good as a light dessert, especially if a cookie (thin, crisp) was with it.  

To be honest, I had some for breakfast the next day, which was tasty, too.

Success!

I doubt you will ever find the Mission Inn serving this again.  It was fun to find out that they did.

Pear and Fig Jam - a Pinedo recipe

My fig tree is producing this year -- not the huge amounts I read about for people with mature fig trees, because mine has been on my property for only about 6 years.  But it is making enough to make me happy.  I love fresh figs!  The variety I have is Violet de Bordeaux, which is a semi-dwarf, and its figs are purple.  They are also so sweet and flavorful, they are like eating candy.

This morning I picked all the ripe fruits I could reach.  That gave me about 3 pounds of fruit, with more on the way.  Breakfast was greatly enhanced by consuming fresh figs!

I decided to check out my translation of Encarnacion Pinedo's book, The Spanish Cook, to see if there were any fig recipes I wanted to use.  I chose her Pear and Fig Jam on page 162.

My Redaction

1 pound granulated sugar

2 cups water

2 pounds Bartlett pears; peeled, cored, and chopped into small pieces

1 pound fresh figs; stemmed and chopped

I forgot to peel the pear for the picture.  That was done afterwards.

Mmmmmm!

Mix the sugar and water well, and bring to a boil.  Turn the heat down and simmer for one minute.

Add the pears, bring to a boil, the reduce the heat and allow them to simmer for two hours.

Add the chopped figs.  Cook until the jam thickens or the temperature reaches 210 degrees F.

Put into canning jars, cool, then refrigerate.  Makes 3 to 4 cups.

My Notes

Preparing the fruit was easy and straightforward.

Chopped pears

Pears and syrup

Brought to a boil, then simmered

After two hours of simmering

I was surprised that the pears hadn't disintegrated with all that cooking.  They appeared candied, and they tasted that way, too, but they were very soft.

The recipe did not specify to peel the figs, so I chopped them and hoped for the best.

Chopped figs

Jams are usually cooked until they reach 220 degrees F.  I tried to get this mixture to that temperature, but it seemed to be thickening too much without achieving it.  I was worried I was making the jam too hard.  At best, I got it to 215 degrees.

What I did was keep it cooking over a low heat (about 3 out of a scale of 10), stirring and checking the temperature every five to ten minutes.  Sometimes I took out a spoonful and let it cool to check for thickness.  Stirring seemed a good idea; only a little of the jam stuck to the bottom of the pan, and that was at the very end of the cooking.

The Verdict

After the jam chilled overnight, my guest taster and I tried it.

It was very firm, as you can see on the spoon.  It was a little spreadable but not as soft as I normally think of with jam.  I don't think it was too firm, but could have been cooked less.

The color was a rich burgundy; very pretty.

The flavor was amazing:  both the pear and fig came through.  The seeds added a nice crunch.  It was sweet but not too sweet.  I think I got the sugar content just right.

The pear pieces were still mostly as pieces -- I was right, they were candied and stood out as slightly more chewy than the rest of the jam.  I liked it, even though I wasn't sure at first.  My guest taster agreed that the chewy pear was surprising but not bad.

Success!

I had a new guest taster, SD, try it without being told what it was or what was in it.  She felt it was too sweet -- so if you think it might be for you, I would reduce the sugar by up to half, but use the same amount of water.  SD also thought the texture was interesting -- the firm bits caught her attention.  I think she was surprised to find out that it was from pears and that they were candied.

What my usual guest taster and I both really enjoyed was the bright flavor of the fruit, and that it wasn't overwhelmed with the sugar.  When I read the recipe, I thought spices would be a good addition, but now I believe they would not let the fruit flavor shine through.  If I was making a big batch of this for canning, I might add some candied ginger or a splash of lemon or lime juice to some of the jars.

SD agreed with this -- she felt the mixture would be improved with some acidity, like a little apple cider vinegar, and with some spices like pepper to make it more savory.  I liked her suggestion, and wondered if adding nuts, too, to make it more like a chutney.

She had imagined how she would use this spread and thought it would pair nicely with pork or chicken, or with cream cheese or brie on crackers.

I have only a little experience cooking jams the "usual" way, that is by cooking the fruit and adding sugar to it.  I have even less experience starting with a syrup and cooking the fruit in it.  I believe that when starting with syrup, achieving a lower temperature is better than the standard 220 degrees.  

I looked up more advice in the internet.  Several websites suggest cooking until the mixture thickens slightly.  Others say to watch for when the mixture changes from a foamy, roiling boil to a more sedate bubbling without changing the heat under it.  There were times when I was watching the cooking that I thought it was done -- and that was around 210 degrees.  

Palace Clamole - a Robust Chocolate Chicken Stew x 2

 My wanderings through Encarnación Pinedo's book, El cocinero español,

have lead me to an interesting section titled "Clamoles."

At first I could not find out what a clamole was, although the recipe read like what is called a "mole".  I found someone online who showed me that the modern spelling is "clemole".  From there, I learned that it's base word is "tlemole" and it is a stew or broth with meat and vegetables, strongly flavored with chiles, onions, garlic, and more.

This particular recipe, the "Palace Clamole" (page 67), has no vegetables.  It is strongly flavored with chiles, cacao, and cinnamon in a tomato base.  I think it is called "palace" because of the specialty flavors and the three different meats, making it fit for royalty.

I made this twice.  Notice there is Redaction #1 and also Redaction #2.

Clamole de Palacio.

Se desvenan y se tuestan tres libras de chile pasilla: á esto se pondrá media libra de cacao colorado, otra media de almendras, ambas cosas bien tostadas, y media onza de canela: se muele el chile con tomates asados y pelados, y en seguida el cacao, la canela y las almendras: todo se frei en manteca y se deshace en agua caliente sin que se corte. La fritura deberá, hacerse juntamente con la carne y chorizos ó butifarras. Se sazona con un terrón  de azúcar. La sal se le pone despues que haya hervido bien el clamole para quo no se corte.

Palace Clamole.

Three pounds of pasilla chiles are deveined and toasted: to this you will put half a pound of red cacao, another half of almonds, both well toasted, and half an ounce of cinnamon: the chile is ground with toasted and peeled tomatoes, and then the cacao, the cinnamon and the almonds: everything is fried in fat and breaks down in hot water without being removed. The frying should be done together with the meat and chorizo or butifarras. It is seasoned with a sugar cube. The salt is added after the clamole has boiled well so that it does not curdle.

My Redaction #1

1 ounce ancho pasilla and California chiles, toasted, deseeded, and soaked

14 ounces plum tomatoes, toasted and peeled

3 ounces slivered almonds, toasted

3 ounces cocoa powder

1 teaspoon (about 1/8 ounce) cinnamon

olive oil, as needed

10 ounces longaniza sausage, cooked and cut into chunks

2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs

2 tablespoons sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

Toast the dried chiles until blistered.  Allow to cool then remove stem, veins, and seeds.  Soak in hot water for at least 20 minutes.

The pasilla chiles are really wrinkled.

Toast the tomatoes on a hot skillet or over a low flame until the skin cracks and blisters.  

Then let them cool enough to handle and remove the skin.  Cut out the core end, too.

Cut them into big pieces and blend them with the soaked chiles until smooth.  Add the toasted almonds, cocoa powder, and cinnamon.  Blend well, adding water as needed to keep the mixture moving in the blender.

Remove the casing from the longaniza, break into pieces, and cook in the Dutch oven until firmed.  Use olive oil as needed to keep the sausage from sticking.

Add chicken thighs and brown them a little.  

Add the sauce and a little water.  Stir, bring to a simmer, and allow to cook slowly over very low heat until the chicken is tender and can be shredded with two forks.

Add sugar and salt near the end.

Shred the chicken in the pan using two forks to pull the meat apart.

My Notes

Instead of butifarra sausages, I used longaniza.  That is what I could find at the store.

I tried to toast the tomatoes on a hot skillet but it was taking a long time, so I moved them over the fire on the stove, using tongs to turn them often to blister them all over.  

The sauce was so thick in the blender that I added the water the chiles soaked in to help everything blend.  Adding the cocoa powder made it even thicker, so I kept adding water, but I didn't want to make it too thin.  You can see in the pictures that the whole dish looked thick, but it did simmer.

The Verdict

I served the clamole in bowls and had warmed flour tortillas on the side.  It was garnished with sliced almonds.

It was very tasty, although my critique was:

1. The sauce was too thick
2. The chocolate was too strong; it was hard to taste anything else
3. It needed more salt

It takes a lot to get me to say that there was too much chocolate in the flavor, but it wasn't balanced at all.  I loved the chocolate, but I wanted to have other flavors, too.

There was only a little heat from the chiles; it could have been more and we would have still enjoyed it.  

We really liked scooping some of the clamole into the torn pieces of tortillas and eating them.  The chicken was a nice chewy part and the longaniza added a different texture and flavor to its bites.

But I wanted to do it again.  I kept thinking the sauce should be much wetter, like a simmer sauce.  So here is the second attempt:

My Redaction #2

2 ounces pasilla and California chiles, toasted, cleaned, and soaked

6 ounces whole almonds, toasted

9 ounces pork chorizo

5 ounces pork longaniza

4 1/4 pounds tomatoes, toasted, skinned, and with the core removed

3 ounces cocoa powder

1 tablespoon cinnamon

4 1/2 pounds boneless, skinless chicken thighs

2 tablespoons sugar

3 teaspoons salt

My Notes

Basically, I doubled the original recipe but used four times the amount of tomatoes, the same amount of chiles and cocoa powder, three times the amount of cinnamon and six times the amount of salt.

I followed roughly the same procedure, although I didn't brown the thighs.

I had to puree the tomatoes and chiles in batches, and I added all the water the chiles soaked in.  The almonds were whole this time and I had to grind them in batches with the tomato puree so they didn't get too thick.  I mixed the cinnamon and cocoa into the sauce in the Dutch oven instead of trying to mix them in the blender.

The chicken, sausages, and sauce nearly filled my 6 quart (5.7 liter) Dutch oven!  I was cooking a great quantity.  

Everything simmered over a very low heat for about one hour, then I took the chicken out, added the salt and sugar to the sauce, shredded the chicken, and added it back in.  It then simmered for another hour.

After it cooled a bit, I put it in the refrigerator to be served the next day.

The Verdict

I served it garnished with sliced almonds and a small sprinkling of cacao nibs.  Flour tortillas on the side.  

This was much better.

1. The sauce was not too thick; just right, really.
2. The salt was about spot on; it was the eater's choice to add a little more or not.
3. The chocolate level was better.  You could taste it but it didn't blot out everything else and it was balanced well with the cinnamon.
4. One of my guest tasters wanted more heat, the other was fine with it as it was, and I was ambivalent.  I used up the chiles I had on hand and I don't think it would hurt to put in more.
5. The longaniza could have been cut into smaller pieces and there should have been more of it.  The chorizo dissolves into the sauce so it adds flavor but not bites.

You don't have to make such a huge batch (I plan on freezing some of it).  I think the whole redaction #2 could be reduced by half, except you will want to increase the chile quantities and it wouldn't hurt to put in more of the sausages.

Success!

Of the two, I definitely recommend Redaction #2.  Play with the chile quantity to suit your tastes.  If you can find butifarra sausages, try them and let me know how it tastes.

My Latina friend took some for her family.  She thought the clamole was too sweet so she served it like this:  a fried corn tortilla first, with Mexican cream on top of that, then the clamole, then her salsa with jalapenos, onion, tomato, and garlic.  She said they liked it!