Showing posts with label chilaquilles. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chilaquilles. Show all posts

Monday, February 16, 2009

Another Chilaquiles Smackdown

Can you guess what's missing from this photo of the dessert portion of the chilaquiles fiesta we held here yesterday?

Yes, I know it's hard to take your eyes off the exquisite fruit platter assembled by our friend Keith, laden as it is with passion fruit and mangos and prickly pear. And friend Susan's version of Mexican wedding cookies have been almost completely consumed. No, it must be Janice's churros, of which only a few scant crumbs remain. They were definitely a huge hit, made with fresh pate choux, deep fried and rolled in cinnamon sugar.

And that was after the chilaquiles--red and green versions--all muddled with tangy crema and queso fresco. And Yayo's perfectly cooked Spanish torta. And the chorizo sausage. And the poached eggs.

Most of the party is a blur for me. That's what I get for agreeing to make chilaquiles a la minute for 40 people. You are familiar with chilaquiles, yes? I like to think of them as the Mexican equivalent of French bread. The French call their stale baguettes "pan perdu," or "lost bread. They make economical use of it by soaking the bread in egg and frying it. In Mexico, tortillas are eaten with every meal. It's common for families to buy a tall stack of them in the morning. Should any go stale, you can fry them in some oil to make chips, then toss them in a sauce of tomatoes, onions and chipotle chilies.

Having thrown this party the last several years, we continue to refine our technique. Last year I struggled with the poached eggs. Now I think I have cracked that nut: a couple of hours before guests arrive, poach three dozen eggs as usual in a large skillet of simmering water with white vinegar (use the freshest eggs possible). Instead of dropping the cooked eggs into a cold water bath, however, cook them just to the point of doneness and spread them on lightly greased sheet pans. The eggs will continue to cook a bit. As guests begin to arrive, place the eggs in a warm (not hot) oven until you are ready to serve. Use a metal spatula to place them on a warm ceramic serving platter and garnish lightly with chopped cilantro. Guests can easily help themselves to the poached eggs at the buffet using a serving fork.

For the chilaquiles, we cut stacks of fresh corn tortillas into squares and fry them in the deep fryer. Have your sauces simmering on the stove, then simply toss the chips with sauce in a heavy skillet, stirring in some thinly sliced white onion. When the chips begin to soften, spread them on a platter and garnish liberally with crema, queso fresco and chopped cilantro.

Here's the recipe we use for our red sauce:

Red Sauce for Chilaquiles
Serves 6

2 tablespoons lard or canola oil
1/2 white onion, roughly chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped fine
1 28-ounce can diced tomatoes, with juice
2 chipotle chiles in adobo, seeds removed and chopped fine
1 cup chicken stock or broth
2 teaspoons oregano, preferably Mexican)
¼ teaspoon ground cumin
1 bay leaf
salt to taste

In a saucepan over medium-low heat, heat 1 tablespoon lard or canola oil. Sweat the onion and garlic until soft, about 10 minutes. Add remaining ingredients except salt and bring almost to a boil. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer gently one hour. Remove from heat.

Remove bay leaf. Pour sauce in into a blender and blend until smooth. Over moderately-high heat, heat 1 tablespoon lard or canola oil in a heavy skillet. Pour in sauce. Cook vigorously and reduce until sauce until it is the consistency of thick soup. If too thick, add chicken broth. Season with salt as needed. Remove from heat and reserve.

And here's a green chilaquiles sauce you might like to try:

3 tablespoons lard or canola oil
1 medium white onion, roughly chopped
2 cloves garlic, chopped fine
1 jalapeno pepper (about the size of your thumb), seeds removed and chopped fine
2 pounds fresh tomatillos (paper husks removed), cleaned and roughly chopped
½ cup roughly chopped fresh cilantro leaves
2 teaspoons dried oregano, preferably Mexican
1 cup chicken broth
salt to taste

Over medium-low heat, sweat the onion, garlic and jalapeno in 2 tablespoons lard or canola oil until onions are soft, about 10 minutes. Add remaining ingredients except salt and bring almost to a boil. Reduce heat, cover and simmer gently 1 hour. Remove from heat.

Pour the sauce into a blender and blend until the ingredients retain just a bit of texture. Meanwhile, over moderately high heat, heat 1 tablespoon lard or canola oil in a heavy skillet. Pour in sauce. Cook vigorously and reduce until the sauce is the consistency of thick soup. If too thick, add chicken broth. Season with salt as needed. Remove from heat and reserve.

These sauces can be made days ahead and reheated.

Note: crema, a tangy sort of liquid sour cream, and queso fresco, literally a fresh white cheese that crumbles easily, are instant markers of Mexican and Central American cuisine and can readily be found at Latin markets. Tomatillos are not a form of green tomato but a relative of the gooseberry. They also can be found in Latin neighorhoods.

Sunday, March 18, 2007

Chilaquiles Smackdown

Three years ago my wife and I made one of our regular pilgrimages to Mexico and discovered chilaquiles. The vacation soon turned into a daily quest for breakfast so that we could eat more of our new favorite Mexican food.

If you have never heard of chilaquiles, it is what Mexicans do with their leftover tortillas. Since tortillas are a factor at virtually every meal in Mexico, leftovers are not uncommon. You cut the tortillas into pieces, fry them (traditionally in lard), then smoother them in a piquant red or green sauce with some white onion, then garnish this mash with fresh cheese (queso fresco), sour cream (crema) and cilantro. Some people like eggs with their chilaquiles, others prefer chorizo sausage. The be-all and end-all of chilaquiles is the melding of the sauce with the cheese and the crema, the texture of the onion complimenting just a bit of chew from the fried tortillas as they begin to soak up the sauce. This makes recycling old tortillas seem like a genius idea.

Throughout Mexico you will see chilaquiles on the brunch menus at big hotels, as well as in the food stalls or "fondas" in the local markets. Like hashed browned potatoes, there are terrific versions of chilaquiles and others that find any number of ways to fail. Some bad chilaquiles are made with the kind of tortilla chips out of bag that you would normally use to dip into salsa. Another version I don't care for cooks the tortillas in the sauce until they become a porridge. This year we experimented, making some chilaquiles with packaged tostados from the grocery store. They were not nearly as good as the ones we make with tortillas we fry ourselves.

A good batch of chilaquiles has just enough chew to make the teeth moan with pleasure. So simple, so good. We had to have more when we got home from Mexico, so we started an annual (sometimes) chilaquiles brunch with our friends Keith and Janice. Like us, they are wild for traditional ethnic foods and there are few places they haven't traveled. Keith makes the green sauce for the brunch, while Janice prepares her famous frijoles, or well-fried beans. I handle the red sauce, the chorizo and the condiments.

This year we were 16 people at the brunch. It all happens very quickly. You spread some oil in the bottom of a frying pan, saute the onions briefly, then pour in some sauce and mix it up with the fried tortillas. Just as the chips begin to wilt you dump the mix onto a buffet platter and invite guests to start making their own plates. Meanwhile, Keith and I were poaching eggs and serving those as well.

This is comfort food no one can resist. The only thing we plan to do differently next year is poach the eggs ahead and simply reheat them. That will eliminate some of the stress.

Here are the basic procedures to feed 16 persons:

To fry the tortillas, figure three tortillas per person and purchase the appropriate bag of 5-inch corn tortillas at the grocery. Slice the tortillas into 1 1/2-inch pieces (use a serrated bread knife to slice a stack of tortillas into four sections, then rotate the stack 90 degress and slice into threes). If using lard, cover the bottom of a heavy frying pan with 1/2 inch of melted lard, then fry the tortillas in batches till golden. Drain on paper towels. If your friends are vegetaran, use vegetable oil. You can also fry the tortillas in your deep fat fryer.

For the red sauce:

4 tablespoons lard or vegetable oil

1 white onion, peeled and diced small

3 cloves garlic, peeled, crushed and roughly chopped

1 28-ounce can plus 1 14-ounce can diced tomatoes, with juice

2 chipotle chilies in adobo

1 cup chicken stock or broth

2 teaspoons dried epazote (or substitute 2 teaspoon dried oregano, preferably Mexican)

1/2 teaspoon ground cumin

1 bay leaf

Heat 2 tablespoons lard or oil in a heavy pot or Dutch oven. Saute onion and garlic until onion is soft, about 10 minutes. Add remaining ingredients and cook about 1 hour. Remove from heat. Remove bay leaf. In batches, mix sauce in blender until smooth. Rinse out cook pot.

Return pot to stove and heat remaining 2 tablespoons lard or oil. Pour sauce into oil and stir to blend. Cook until sauce has reduced slightly and is thick like a pasta sauce. (Cooking sauces in oil is traditional in Mexico.) Set sauce aside until ready to use. Can be made several days in advance.

For the green sauce:

2 1/2 pounds fresh tomatillos, husks removed, cleaned

4 tablespoons lard or vegetable oil

1 medium white onion, peeled and diced small

3 cloves garlic, chopped fine

3 Serrano chilies, seeds removed, chopped fine

½ cup roughly chopped fresh cilantro leaves

2 teaspoons dried epazote (or substitute 2 teaspoons dried oregano, preferably Mexican)

salt to taste

Preheat oven to 350 degrees

Arrange tomatillos on a baking sheet covered with parchment paper. Place in oven and roast 45 minutes, or until tomatillos are soft.

Meanwhile, in a sauté pan over medium-low heat, sweat the onion, garlic and Serrano chilies in 2 tablespoons lard or vegetable oil until onions are soft, about 10 minutes. Spoon into a food processor with cooked tomatillos, and cilantro. Pulse to a coarse puree.

Over moderately high heat, heat remaining 2 tablespoons lard or vegetable oil in a heavy skillet. Pour in pureed sauce. Add epazote. Cook vigorously until thick, about 5 minutes. Season with salt as needed. Remove from heat and reserve.

To serve the chilaquiles, have plates and condiments ready. In addition to the queso, crema, cilantro, chorizo, refritos and eggs, you can also display chopped lettuce, diced tomato, avocado--whatever you like.

You will also need one or two white onions, thinly sliced, to finish the cooking.

Coat a pan with lard or vegetable oil and, over moderatly high heat, toss in a fistful of white onion slices and cook just a minute or two. Then add about two cups of sauce and continue cooking until it begins to bubble. Add enough tortilla chips and mix well. There should be just enough chips, and just enough sauce, so that the mixture is wet, but the chips are not swimming in sauce.

When the chips begin to soften, quickly transfer them to a platter so that guests can dig in and add condiments as they choose. Great with Mexican beer or Bloody Marys--or try making Bloody Maria's, substituting Tequila for vodka and spicing it with cumin.