ChilaquilesChilaquiles
Corn tortillas cut into triangles and fried until crisp, then simmered in a bright cooked salsa until they are soft-edged but not a mush, and topped with a soft-cooked egg, cream, and onion. The Mexican breakfast that is really just the tortilla, given a second life.
Technique notes
Chilaquiles are the tortilla at the end of its life, turned into a dish. The move is a two-stage one, and the whole skill is in the two stages. First the tortilla triangles are fried until crisp — this gives them the crunchy base and the color and flavor that the raw tortilla does not have, and it is what separates chilaquiles from a wet, soft, un-toasted version. Second, the fried chips are simmered in the cooked salsa for a short, controlled time — long enough that they absorb the flavor and soften at the edges, but not so long that they collapse into a uniform mush. The target is a chilaquile — a chip that has given up some of its crunch and taken on some of the salsa's body, but still holds a little of its shape and a little of its crispness. That in-between is the whole point, and it is the thing that is easiest to overshoot, because the salsa is wet and the chips are dry, and the moment the two meet, the chip is losing its structure faster than you can watch it.
Equipment
- A deep skillet or a shallow pan with enough oil to a shallow-fry the tortilla triangles, or a fryer if you have one
- A small saucepan for the cooked salsa
- A wide, serving pan to hold the finished chilaquiles, or two wide shallow bowls
Ingredients
- 6 corn tortillas (ideally the nixtamalized kind and a day or two old if you have them — a firm, slightly dry tortilla fries crisp and holds the simmer better than a soft one)
- 5 (300 g) medium tomatoes, or 300 g of a good cherry tomato
- 2 (120 g) jalapeños or serranos, or a milder green chili, for the heat
- 1 (80 g) small white or red onion
- 2 (10 g) cloves of garlic
- 2 tbsp (30 ml) neutral oil, for the frying and the salsa, split
- 2 (100 ml) chicken or vegetable stock, or water, to loosen the salsa and give the chips a little liquid to simmer in
- 1 tsp (4 g) fine salt, plus more to taste
- 2 eggs, cooked soft for the top
- 3 tbsp (60 g) sour cream or a light crème fraîche, to spoon over
- 2 tbsp (15 g) fried onion, for the crisp on top
- A few sprigs of cilantro, torn, to scatter at the table
Method
- Make the cooked salsa. Rough-chop the tomatoes, the onion, the garlic, and the chilies (and seed the chilies a little less or a little more depending on the heat you want). Into a small saucepan over a medium heat, add 1 tbsp of the oil, and cook the onion for about 3 min until it is soft and just starting to take color — not brown, just sweet. Add the garlic for about 30 s, then the chilies and the tomatoes, and the salt. Simmer uncovered for about 10 min, until the tomatoes have broken down and the liquid has cooked off to a loose, pourable sauce. This is the same salsa as the huevos rancheros, and it is the flavor-base of the chilaquiles — the chile and the tomato, cooked, giving the chip its body. Taste and adjust the salt.
- Cut and dry the tortillas. While the salsa is cooking, cut the tortillas into 6 triangles each — roughly 4 cm wide, so they are a bite-size chip, not a big piece. Lay the triangles out on a tray or plates, and let them air-dry for a few minutes if they are fresh; a tortilla that is a little dry fries crisp, and a soft one fries soft and greasy. If the tortillas are from the day before, they are already a little dry and you can fry them straight. The dryness matters because the frying is what gives you the crisp, and a wet tortilla steams rather than fries, and you get a soft, greasy chip instead of a crunchy one.
- Fry them crisp. Into a deep skillet, add 1 tbsp of the oil, over a medium-high heat. Once the oil is hot (a corner of a triangle, dropped in, should sizzle immediately), add the triangles in a single layer, not crowding, and fry them for about 1–2 min, turning a few times, until they are lightly golden and crisp — you want them crisp enough to hold the simmer, not dark and hard, and the color should be a light golden, not a dark brown. The frying is the first of the two stages, and the point is to give the chip a structure that the second stage will partially give back. If they are too raw a color, they will be soft and limp after the simmer; if they are too dark, they are already giving up their crispness and the simmer will finish the job. Fry them in one or two batches so you are not crowding the pan, and set them on a paper towel to drain the excess oil.
- The simmer — the second stage. Return the fried triangles to the skillet (or to a wide serving pan) and pour the cooked salsa over them, so they are coated, or lay the fried triangles into the saucepan with the salsa and a little of the stock. Over a medium heat, stir and toss the chilaquiles for about 2–3 min, just long enough for the chips to absorb the salsa and soften at the edges, but not so long that they collapse. Stir gently, and taste a chip: it should be chilaquile — soft at the edges with a little of its crunch still in, and carrying the salsa's flavor without being a uniform mush. The moment the chips start to look like they are giving up their shape entirely, you are past it; the moment the chip has given up its crunch to the salsa, it is no longer reading as a chilaquile, and the contrast of the crisp giving way was the point. If the pan is too dry, a few tablespoons of the stock loosens it; if the chips are too soft, a little more frying before the simmer next time. The point of the second stage is to take the crisp away, partially, and on purpose, and to let the salsa's flavor and the chip's body share the plate.
- Top and serve, hot, with the egg. Slide the chilaquiles onto a serving plate or into wide serving bowls. Crank 2 eggs soft, as for huevos rancheros, and one onto each serving. Spoon over the sour cream or crème fraîche, scatter the fried onion, and finish with the torn cilantro. Serve them immediately, while the chips still hold a little of their shape — the chilaquiles keep going to a soft, uniform state as they sit, and the whole point is to eat them in that in-between, when the crisp and the soft are sharing the plate. A cold plate of them, fully melted, is the dish at its end-of-life stage — still good, but not the dish at its best.
Common failures
- The chilaquiles are a uniform, soft, mushy mess. They were simmered too long (step 4), and the chips gave up all of their structure and merged into the salsa. A shorter simmer and a firmer chip before the simmer, and you have the in-between that is the point — the chip gives up some of its crunch, not all of it.
- The chips are soft and greasy, not crisp. They were not fried long or hot enough (step 3), or they were too wet and soft when they went in, and they steam rather than fry. A drier tortilla, a hotter oil, and a longer fry, and the chip has the structure to hold the second stage.
- The whole plate is dry, with a chip sitting in a pool of salsa. The chips were not tossed with the salsa enough (step 4), and they are sitting on top of the liquid rather than absorbing it. Toss the chips through the salsa, and let them sit a few seconds to take on the body, and the chip should be in the salsa, not on it.
- The chip is a uniform dark brown, and a little bitter. It was fried past golden to dark (step 3), and the browning went past the point and the chip is a little bitter, with a charred bite. Fry it to a light golden, and the chip is crisp and sweet rather than bitter and burnt.
Variations & substitutions
- With a chicken version. Swap the eggs for a piece of cooked, shredded chicken, and the same base reads as a fuller, heartier plate — the chip and the salsa are the same, the top is a protein instead of an egg. The two are the two ends of the same dish, and a plate with both is a very good lunch.
- A milder plate. Hold the jalapeño and the seed in the tomato (step 1), and rely on the sour cream and the lime for the cut. The tomatoes and the onion carry the body and the salt, and the lime carries the brightness, so a version with no chile is still a version — it is just a quieter one.
- With a mole instead of a salsa. Swap the cooked salsa for a mole negro, and the chips are simmered in the mole instead of the salsa. The base is the tortilla, the two stages (fry, then simmer) are the same, and only the sauce changes — which is exactly the point of a chilaquile: the tortilla is the dish, and the sauce is the variable.
What to serve with it
Chilaquiles are a complete breakfast, and they want a hot egg on top and a glass of something to the side. Two plates of them alongside a pile of churros and a jar of the mole covers the whole table — the chilaquiles and the mole are the same chile, cooked two ways, and the chilaquiles and the churros are the same oil, fried two ways.