September arrives with a wind of change.
There comes a day in September when you step outside and feel it. A breeze moves through, but it is not the same breeze of summer. It is cooler, a little crisper, carrying that refreshing scent that somehow tells us fall is near.
You can’t always explain what has changed, but your senses know. The seasons are beginning their transformation, and almost naturally, so do we. Our appetite begins to shift. We start thinking less about the foods that cool us down and more about the foods that warm us from within.
For many, that change comes through something traditional and familiar.
Caldo.
A good caldo cannot be rushed.
Rooted in the warmth of Mexican tradition, this is a caldo built with abundance and intention. Beef short ribs surrounded by sweet corn, potatoes, chayote, Mexican squash, yellow squash, carrots and cabbage. Ingredients cut generously, each chosen for the flavor, texture and character it brings to the dish.
What begins as a collection of humble ingredients will slowly become something far greater.
The short ribs surrender their richness into the broth as time and gentle heat work together. The meat slowly softens around the bone, transforming into the succulent star of the caldo, deeply flavorful, tender and almost melting with every bite.
Sweet corn enters early, its golden rounds remaining beautifully intact while quietly releasing a natural sweetness into the developing broth.
And then, patience. Waiting for transformation.
The broth settles into a gentle rolling boil, moving quietly around the short ribs and sweet corn. Nothing hurried. Just a steady rhythm as the ingredients slowly turns and the caldo begins to deepen on its own.
The broth grows richer. The sweet corn glistens. The short ribs soften.
These are the signals. One transformation quietly makes way for the next.
When the short ribs reach that beautiful tenderness, the caldo is ready to welcome what follows. The ingredients begin to speak, quietly revealing when it is time for the next to enter.
One by one, each finds its moment. Carrots slowly soften, their natural sweetness becoming more pronounced while their brilliant color and shape remain. The potatoes become almost buttery within, soaking in the richness that has been developing around them.
Chayote is quieter. Delicate and subtle, it takes on the character of the broth, becoming silky while still holding its own identity. Then the squash brings tenderness and color, needing only enough time to become part of what has already been created. And finally, cabbage unfolds into soft, tender layers, capturing little pockets of broth between its leaves.
Each ingredient is given its moment. Nothing hurried. Nothing forced.
And somewhere within that gentle rhythm, something beautiful begins to happen. The individual flavors begin finding one another. The richness of the beef embraces the sweetness of the corn. The vegetables offer their own character. And the broth becomes the gathering place for it all.
Until what began as separate ingredients becomes one caldo.
And just when the caldo seems complete, one last transformation. A sprinkle of fresh cilantro brings that unmistakable taste of Mexico, followed by a squeeze of lime that brightens the rich broth and awakens everything beneath it. A spoonful of rice waits in the bowl as the caldo is ladled over it.
And there it is. That moment of anticipation before the first spoonful.
Succulent beef. Sweet corn. Tender vegetables.
A rich, steaming broth carrying a little something from everything that entered the pot.
Everything still recognizable. Yet nothing quite the same as when it began. That is the transformation. That is the patience of the ingredients.
And perhaps that is what September has been telling us all along. The same way the ingredients slowly become something different, the season changes around us. Summer begins to loosen its hold. The days soften, the evenings cool, and once again that unmistakable breeze passes by.
Only now, we recognize it. The winds have changed. Fall is arriving. And somewhere inside, a warm bowl of caldo is waiting.
Creating Moments Through the Senses. Chef Armando Murillo is the executive chef at Las Cruces Convention Center.
