ZARELA’S VERACRUZ: COOKING AND CULTURE IN MEXICO’S TROPICAL MELTING POT, by Zarela Martinez (with Anne Mendelson), Houghton Mifflin Co., New York, 2001, 400 pages, $35.00.

Some of the following may not be true. I’m just making an educated guess here, because I’ve yet to see the show on television, but Zarela Martinez is a scold, and I feel chastened.

Of course, as soon as I catch the PBS show to which this book is a companion, “Zarela! La Cocina Veracruzana,” I’ll let you know if I did Ms. Martinez a disservice.

But more of her nagging later. For now, the most important thing for you to know, is that “Zarela’s Veracruz” is a most handsome book, as we might expect from the chef whom The New York Times once referred to as “the goddess of Mexican cooking,” tightly packed with nothing of which your local Taco Bell has ever heard.

That’s a cheap shot, of course, for Martinez has always been known for an almost pedantic striving for authenticity in her restaurants and cookbooks. Her love for food seems intrinsically wound with her love for doing it right – hence her fascinations with the minutiae of regional Mexican cuisines. But while her last two cookbooks have both taken the theme of the cookery of a single Mexican state, they couldn’t be much more different.

In “The Food and Life of Oaxaca,” Martinez concentrated on the austerity of that state’s ancient cuisine – still little changed from that of the Maya. The cooking of Veracruz – Oaxaca’s neighbor – is an entirely different deal.

Veracruz is a narrow seaside-splinter of a state, soaking in the tepid waters of the Gulf of Mexico, and the fresh rivers rushing from the uplands that separate it from Mexico City. It also holds a unique position in Mexican culture -it was the region that welcomed Cortes, seeing in him a friendly ally against the Aztecs. It remains the wealthiest state in Mexico to this day, and remains reviled by many across the rest of Mexico. And until recently, Martinez was among them.

“I had mentally pigeonholed Veracruz as the state of Big Oil,” she said, “unrelated to the things I most treasured in the cultural mosaic of Mexico.”

Mosaic really is the key word here, for Veracruz is a mosaic within that mosaic. More than any other state, its food is a fusion of influences – Spanish, African, Cuban, and naturally, Mexican – that reflect the global nature of the peoples which have called it home – the natives, the Spanish invaders and the slaves they brought with them.

For those interested in the broader social and geographic contexts of regional cuisines, “Zarela’s Veracruz” comes highly recommended. In fact Martinez (or maybe it’s Anne Mendelson, who co-wrote this book with her) would make a very good travel writer. Her whistle-stop tour of Veracruz makes for engaging reading, and captures the personalities of the places, people and poetry behind the food.

The food itself is frequently delicious, if occasionally a little long-winded in execution. The strongly Afro-Cuban-influenced puerco con calabaza (pork with mashed pumpkin) for example, took a good two hours to prepare, used almost every pot and utensil in my kitchen, and while eventually very tasty – the pumpkin especially shone with its subtly spicy inflections – left me wondering where the extra mile had really got me.

On the other hand, simpler but more spectacular in the finished product, pebre de pollo (chicken in sweet-tart sauce) is worth every second. Its Spanish influences strike boldly in the combination of capers, olives, raisins and sherry, and the dish sits perfectly alongside the pickled jalapenos that Martinez recommends as an accompaniment.

Finally, no discussion of Veracruz would be complete without some kind of seafood recipe. We tackled camarones a la pimienta (peppered shrimp) – a standard Veracruzan method of cooking seafood, with onions, garlic, chiles and black pepper, finished off with a good dollop of mayonnaise.

Yes, mayonnaise.

Think this blows Martinez’s credibility as a champion of authenticity? Well think once more. Martinez’s authenticity often takes the form of adherence to the authenticity of modernity, rather than that of centuries-old tradition. Expect to find Martinez happily toss around spoonfuls of mayonnaise, dashes of Worcestershire sauce, shakes of Maggi sauce, soy sauce, powdered bouillon, or even orange soda. All are commonly used in Mexico. But, she cautions, they are often used in different ways than we would use them. And here’s where I get scolded.

I like a chef who yells, “Have fun with your ingredients. Substitute at will.” I don’t know about you, but I sometimes substitute one item for another I’m missing on the basis of similarity of powderiness or color. If you do this, don’t tell Zarela. For several pages post-introduction, we are warned of the evils of our ways: Fresh herbs are not dried herbs, fish stock is not clam juice, homemade chicken stock is not cube bouillon, true cinnamon is not what we always thought was cinnamon, but something much more difficult to find. You get the idea? Oh, and I’m definitely not rendering my own lard these days. Are you?

Of course she’s right, and that’s why she’s an internationally respected chef whereas I am me. We can never complain about results unless we do things right, and our food will never be truly authentic (or possibly even any good) unless we use the right ingredients. But I would suggest that those who don’t live moments from that great little ethnic grocery that most cooks seem certain we all have just round the corner, not to let the lectures put them off this book. It should make a fine companion to the television series and is a terrific introduction to a Mexican cuisine that few of us up here in the north know too much about.

Puerco con Calabaza (Pork with Mashed Pumpkin)

2 pounds boneless pork butt cut into 1-inch chunks

2 small onions, 1 unpeeled

4 cloves of garlic, 2 unpeeled

1 teaspoon salt, or to taste

1 teaspoon black peppercorns

4-5 arbol or dried serrano chiles

1 2 1/2 to 3 pounds pumpkin or winter squash

1/4 cup pumpkin seeds

3/4 teaspoon cumin seeds

3/4 teaspoon coriander seeds

2 medium-sized ripe tomatoes, coarsely chopped

3 tablespoons lard or vegetable oil

2 tablespoons cider vinegar

Place the meat in a large pot or small Dutch oven with the unpeeled onion, unpeeled garlic, a teaspoon of salt and half a teaspoon of the peppercorns. Add water to cover by about an inch, bring to the boil over high heat; at once reduce the heat to maintain a low rolling boil, and skim off any froth that rises to the surface. Cook, partly covered for 45 minutes or until the meat is tender. Lift out the meat into a bowl, letting it drain very well. Set aside. Strain the stock through a mesh sieve.

You should have 3 to 4 cups. Wipe out the pan and pour the stock back into it; set aside.

Meanwhile, bring 2-3 cups of water to the boil in a small saucepan. Add the dried chiles and cook, uncovered, for about 5 minutes, or until softened. Drain and set aside.

Cut the unpeeled pumpkin into 8 equal chunks, removing any seeds and strings. Add the chunks to the stock and bring to a boil over a high heat. Reduce the heat to maintain a low rolling boil and cook for about 30 minutes or until tender. Lift out the chunks, place in a colander to drain well, and let cool to room temperature.

Scrape the flesh into a bowl and discard the skin. Mash thoroughly with a potato masher or pestle. Set aside.

Place the pumpkinseeds in a small heavy skillet over medium-low heat. Toast, stirring and shaking the pan, until they swell up and pop, 3-5 minutes. Set aside.

Grind the cumin, coriander, and the remaining 1/2 teaspoon of peppercorns to a powder using an electric coffee or spice grinder, or a mortar and pestle. Coarsely chop the remaining onion and 2 cloves of garlic. Puree in a blender with the pumpkinseeds, ground spices, chopped tomatoes and drained chiles.

In a medium saucepan, heat 2 tablespoons of the lard or oil over medium-high heat until rippling. Add the pureed mixture, reduce the heat to medium, cover and cook, stirring occasionally, until the fat starts to separate, about 15 minutes. Add the reserved mashed pumpkin or squash and the vinegar, stirring to mix well, and cook, covered, for 10 minutes. Taste for salt and add more if necessary.

While the pumpkin mixture cooks, heat the remaining tablespoon of lard or oil in a large skillet over a medium-high heat. Add the meat and brown lightly for about 5 minutes, letting it get a little crisp, but not dried out.

Spoon the seasoned pumpkin mixture onto a platter and top with the meat. Serves 4 to 6.

Pebre de Pollo (Chicken in a Sweet-Tart Sauce)

1 teaspoon black peppercorns

4-5 cloves

1/4 cup olive oil

1 medium-sized white onion, coarsely chopped

3 garlic cloves, coarsely chopped

3 large ripe tomatoes (about 11/2 pounds total), coarsely chopped

1 4-pound chicken, quartered

1-11/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste

freshly ground black pepper

? cup capers, rinsed, patted dry, and spread out on paper towels to dry completely

2 cups chicken stock

15-20 pimiento-stuffed green olives

1/2 cup dark raisins

2 tart crisp green apples, unpeeled, cored and cut in eighths

1/4 cup dry sherry

Pickled jalapeno chiles (optional)

In an electric spice or coffee grinder, or using a mortar and pestle, grind the peppercorns and cloves to a coarse powder. Set aside.

In a medium heavy skillet or wide saucepan, heat 2 tablespoons of the oil over a medium-high heat until rippling. Add the onion and garlic and cook, stirring occasionally,, for 3-5minutes, or until the onion is translucent. Add the tomatoes and pepper-clove mixture. Reduce the heat to medium and cook, covered, for 12-15 minutes, until the mixture is lightly thickened. Let cool slightly, then process to a puree in a blender. Set aside.

Season the chicken with salt and a good grinding of black pepper. In a Dutch oven or large pot, heat the remaining 2 tablespoons of oil over a medium-high heat, until rippling. Add the chicken pieces and cook, turning once, until light golden, about 3 minutes per side. Transfer the chicken to a plate and set aside. Pour off all but 2 tablespoons of fat from the pot. With a wooden spoon or spatula, scrape the bottom to loosen the flavorful browned bits.

Return the pot to medium heat. When the fat ripples, add the capers and stir-fry for 2-3 minutes, until they puff slightly and become brown and crisp. Scoop out and set aside. Add the reserved tomato puree and cook, covered, for 15 minutes, or until the flavor is concentrated and the fat is starting to separate. Stir in the chicken stock, olives, raisins, apples, and all but 1 tablespoon of the fried capers.

Add the chicken with any cooking juices, bring to a boil, and cook, over medium heat for 20-25 minutes, or until the chicken is just done. Taste for salt and add up to 1 teaspoon, if desired. Stir in the sherry and cook for about 5 minutes longer, until the raw alcohol taste is gone. Serve at once, with the remaining fried capers scattered over the dish. If you like, serve pickled jalapenos on the side.

Camarones a la Pimienta (Peppered Shrimp)

1/2 cup olive oil

1 large onion, finely sliced or chopped

3 garlic cloves, slivered

3-4 jalapeno or serrano chiles, stemmed, seeded if desired, and sliced or julienned.

1 pound shrimp, peeled and deveined (or left in the shell)

1 teaspoon salt (optional)

1 tablespoon freshly ground black pepper, or to taste

2 tablespoons mayonnaise

In a large skillet, heat the oil over a medium heat until rippling. Add the onion and garlic; cook stirring occasionally, until the onion is translucent and a little wilted, but not browned, 3-5 minutes. Add the chiles and cook, stirring, for another 5 minutes, or until softened.

Add the shrimp, salt (if desired), and pepper and cook for about 3 minutes, or until they are just cooked through. Swirl in the mayonnaise and serve at once.