South Philly is celebrating chiles en nogada season, but not for long

Chiles en nogada, no matter who makes them, are visually arresting dishes. They’re distinctive for their colors: a base of a deep green poblano pepper, a blanket of creamy white walnut sauce (the titular nogada), traditional pops of red from fresh pomegranate seeds, and a sprinkling of more green from parsley. These components represent the colors of the Mexican flag. The poblano is stuffed with picadillo, a mix of ground meats and fruits that marry savory and sweet flavors and can often be time-consuming to prepare.

Chiles en nogada season is fleeting, lasting just two to six weeks in late August and early September, when the dish’s main ingredients — poblanos and walnuts — are aligned and in season, along with the apples and peaches that are also at peak ripeness in Puebla, where the dish originated.

In Mexico, chiles en nogada has become a national dish, treated with great reverence and ceremony. At fine-dining establishments in Mexico City, diners can select which poblano they’d like stuffed, just as one might select a fish from a tank to be cooked. But you don’t have to go to Mexico to eat it — there are several excellent versions found in Philadelphia.

Chelo Manzanarez, the chef and owner of El Mictlan, which generally focuses on the food of Guerrero (the Mexican state located southwest of Puebla), has worked to make this fundamental Mexican dish his own.

“It’s usually a sweet and heavy dish, but I’ve tried to make it more flavorful and more personal,” Manzanarez said of the chile en nogada at his South Philly BYOB at Beechwood and Snyder Streets.

Manzanarez switched out beef in favor of a mix of pork and chicken, and he swapped raisins for dried dates. He seasons the picadillo with cinnamon, clove, and anise. He uses both green and red apples, “to get that contrast between sweet and sour.” He adds plantains and pineapples “for their tropical flavor.”

Making his chile en nogada is truly a labor of love for Manzanarez. “I cook each fruit and vegetable individually and caramelize them separately. Most of the work comes from dicing everything very small.” After mixing all cooked components together for the filling, he still has to roast the peppers, which he does for three to four minutes on each side before letting them sweat in a plastic bag, making it easier to remove their skins. “It’s complicated — getting the poblanos to the right consistency so that they don’t lose their shape,” he said.

For the white of the Mexican flag, Manzanarez eschews the traditional goat cheese, instead mixing cream cheese with queso fresco, walnuts, almonds, and a touch of milk. The result is creamy, luxurious, and not too rich.

Manzanarez finishes his chile en nogada with bright cilantro oil and red chili oil, doubling down on the colors as a deeper tribute to the Mexican flag.

He first came up with his recipe while working at La Llorona, also in South Philly. It’s a dish customers ask for every year.

Restaurants traditionally stop serving chiles en nogada after Mexican Independence Day, on Sept. 16. “But now we celebrate Independence Day for the whole of September,” said Manzanarez, which is how long he plans on serving it at El Mictlan.

More traditional iterations of the dish can also be found at La Llorona and El Chingon (usually only available at dinner).

La Llorona serves a richer but very classic version with the roasted poblano battered in egg whites and gently sautéed before being blanketed in an especially rich and dense nogada. The pepper is stuffed with ground beef and pork, peaches, and apples. Its parsley, sliced almond, and pomegranate seed garnishes replicate the stripes of the Mexican flag precisely.

The availability of chef Carlos Aparicio of El Chingon’s chile en nogada ($30) is entirely dependent on the fresh walnuts he flies in, one kilogram weekly, from his hometown of San Mateo Ozolco, located in the Calpan municipality of Puebla — the same municipality where, according to legend, chiles en nogada were first invented by Augustinian nuns. They created the dish in 1821 in honor of General Agustín de Iturbide, after he signed the treaty that recognized Mexico’s independence from Spain. He became the first emperor of Mexico, and the dish represents the colors of what was then the Mexican Army’s flag.

“This year, [Puebla] had a lot of rain so the walnuts fell off the trees too soon,” said Aparicio. “They really have to be fresh, and we can’t preserve them. As soon as they get here, we wash and clean them and put them in milk immediately.” After their milk bath, the walnuts get mixed with goat cheese, cream cheese, cinnamon, and sugar.

Aparicio’s chile en nogada is stuffed with beef, pork, and fruits, and garnished sparingly. Hewing to tradition, Aparicio’s serves it at room temperature.

Aparicio is hoping that this year he will receive at least one or two more shipments of walnuts, which means he can serve chiles en nogada for one or two more weeks. (El Chingon sells about 12 to 15 per day when it is available.)

Chiles en nogada season brings out the competitive nature in chefs and customers. “People will try to get every different chile en nogada in Philadelphia, make comparisons and [argue] about which one is the best,” said Manzanarez.

You have one, maybe two weeks left to decide for yourself.