Even though Cinco de Mayo es mas or menos fading in the rearview mirror, may of us celebrants are still charged with lingering clean up and/or consumption of what’s been leftover or left behind, dealing with reconnoitering the den for piñata limbs, fishing empty Coronita bottles out of the shark tank, corraling the stray chihuahua or two,“What the hell are those rubbed into the rug, ironic Frech fries? Can French fries even be ironic? Oh, they’re from McDonald’s? Still warm? Give me one.”, breaking down the occasional mechanical bull…
And if like some revelers I know, who perhaps dove down into the deep end a bottle of Hornitos, and maybe lost a battle of their own with say the Ziploc seal on a bag of corn tortillas, leaving them on the counter for, oh, a couple days, to grow stale, I am here to share with you a time-worn El Sul recipe that will at once salvage both said tortillas and trounce any accompanying agave-fuled shame.
While around Chicago chillaquilles has come to mean “awesome trendy brunch Mexican food/hangover treatment” (practically everyone I know seems possessed with a burning desire to tell, text and tweet me with the what they think I’ll rush out an order in a bistro de gringo what is actually one of the easiest Nah-Az-Mexi-cago-uatl dishes one can cook) as often as it is mispelled, most Mexicans and Nahuatls you meet think of chilaquilesas little more than misplled leftovers cooked con mucho awesome (pronounced “Aw-eh-saw-meow).
Before we get to the recipe and obligatory gustatory iPhone pix, consider yourself warned, while freakishly deliciouso, chilaquiles are no feast for the eyes (“gourmet food for the blind”, according to my imaginary abuela) and hell on pots and/or pans.
Oh yeah, chilaquiles also leave your cocinera smelling like a Tijuana taco truck (sans diesel). To my nariz, the last detail esta fairly awesome, to mi esposa’s not so mucho.
CHILAQUILES DE OCHO DE MAYO
INGREDIENTS (amounts vary according to size and flavor)
Stale corn tortillas torn into 2 inch pieces (of El Milagro)
eggs (of the chicken)
minced onions (of the yellow variety)
cheese (of your choosing)
salsa and/or enchilada sauce (of your choosing)
sour cream (of the cow)
oil (of the vegetable)
INSTRUCTIONS: Cover the bottom of a deepish sauce pan with oil, heat till smokey. Toss in tortilla strips. Stand back. Cook and stir till crispy. Crack and stir in an egg or two. Nearing cooked, add enough sauce/salsa to cover all ingredients. Remove from heat and stir in queso. Topped with sour cream dollop.
Mira: The obligatory iPhone pic:
(the brilliant Herdez 5 chile salsa was used in the making of this dish, though my personal favorito mole es leftover chipotle enchilada sauce)
NOTE: I prefer my chiliquiles sans meat. Don’t let this stop you from adding leftover carne o pollo o chihuahua.
Here is the aforedescribed “hell on pot”:
Y aqui estas Ocho to help turn cleaning the whole confounded filthy Cinco de Drinko mess up into a funky bailar: