LEO's Eat'N'Blog: We like smut. It's good.

[Robin Garr]

<table border="0" align="right" width="310"><tr><td><img src="http://www.louisvillehotbytes.com/ucan.jpg" border="1" align="right"></td></tr><tr><td>After a brief hiatus, former Mayan Gypsy chef Bruce Ucan is back at it with Mayan Café, in the East Market location where Mayan Gypsy started out. LEO Photo by Nicole Pullen</td></tr></table>LEO's Eat 'n' Blog with Louisville HotBytes
(Mayan Café)

Smut. Corn smut. It's a nasty name for a nasty-looking thing, a black, disgusting fungus that turns corn kernels into swollen gray blobs that look like an alien mutation, a sight so gross that the ancient Aztecs named the stuff "cuitlacoche" or, literally, well, "black turds."

Although cuitlacoche may look like something the dog dragged in, it tastes really, really good. So, while North American farmers curse and destroy smut-afflicted corn, Mexican growers are more inclined to praise Lord Quetzalcoatl, peel off the pillowy black fungus and serve it for lunch. Or put some in cans and ship it north to savvy restaurateurs.

Selling it to Anglos can be a challenge, though, so the few eateries around the United States that serve cuitlacoche (pronounced "wheat-la-COH-chay") generally describe it with more appetizing euphemisms. "Mexican caviar," for instance. Or, at Louisville's excellent M<b>ayan Café</b>, "exotic mushroom," appended to the Aztec "cuitlacoche" without the literal translation.

Mayan Café chef Bruce Ucán prepares cuitlacoche in a dreamily accessible fashion, pureed into a silken, sweet cream sauce that showcases its delicate, sweet and subtly mushroomy aroma and flavor.

Full reports in LEO and on LouisvilleHotBytes.

Sounds very good and unique, will have to check it out!

Robin,

Got to be one of your best titles ever! (Of course that tells you what kind of mind I have...)

Really informative article: that was a new one on me...

Deb

It is the ugliest food I think I have ever eaten, but it's awfully good.
I've had it in enchiladas with smoked chicken and chipoltle and just saw a piece on TV where it was roasted with corn, tomatillos and onions.

I've always seen it spelled as huitlacoche.

[Robin Garr]

I've always seen it spelled as huitlacoche.

You'll see it both ways, but Mayan Café uses the C version on its menu, and that version seems to have slightly greater weight of authenticity. Google a little and you'll see. (It's pronounced with the C silent, which adds to the confusion.)

ah, I figured it out. Huitlacoche is Aztec spelling and Cuitlacoche is Mayan.

Robin, you better make sure no Aztecs are around when you say that cuitlacoche is the more authentic spellling!

At the risk of totally putting people off of this food, I have to share the first time I ever heard of cuitlacoche (beware some slightly off-color language and general grossness). After reading that I thought that cuitlacoche would be one of the few foods that I would never have any interest in trying. But now that Robin has given me a much more appetizing perspective on it, I'm excited about trying it. I think normally-adventurous boyfriend is still a little skeptical, though.

At the risk of totally putting people off of this food, I have to share the first time I ever heard of cuitlacoche (beware some slightly off-color language and general grossness). After reading that I thought that cuitlacoche would be one of the few foods that I would never have any interest in trying. But now that Robin has given me a much more appetizing perspective on it, I'm excited about trying it. I think normally-adventurous boyfriend is still a little skeptical, though. :)

I never imagined it cames canned-I've only had fresh. I would think canning would damage the texture.
It's good to know that processing doesn't improve the appearance though. :)

[Robin Garr]

I never imagined it cames canned-I've only had fresh.

Most commercial product comes canned ... I doubt it travels well in fresh form.

To my recollection, Bruce Ucan usually purees it in a creamy sauce, which lets the nice truffly-sweet corn flavor through without troubling diners with having to look at the stuff ...

I had it in a quesadilla once in NYC. It was plentiful, perhaps too much so.