Caldo Michi de Yuriria

Guanajuato, the south of the state, Yuriria and its old lagoon, that is where this caldo lives. The lake is called Yuririapundaro in the old Purépecha telling, the Lago de Sangre, and the families around it have cooked freshwater fish long before anyone tried to flatten Bajío cooking into enchiladas mineras and sweets from Celaya.

Caldo michi means fish broth, from Nahuatl michin, fish. In Yuriria it belongs to the Lerma basin: bagre from the water, chayote, calabacita, ejotes, jitomate, chile guajillo for color, and xoconostle for the dry acidity that wakes up the broth. Chilcuague, that numbing root from Guanajuato and Querétaro, is used carefully. Too much and your mouth goes foolish. Enough and the broth tastes like the Bajío knows what it is doing.

I learned versions of this soup from cocineras who buy fish near the embarcadero and vegetables from the market stalls before the sun makes everything tired. They do not make a heavy stew. They make a clean broth with a fried recaudo, a little manteca de cerdo, and fish added at the end so it stays whole. That is the discipline. The fish is not punished for being delicate.

This is not food from a single Mexico. In León you hear about queso ranchero over sopa de tortilla. In Querétaro, crema from the hacienda lechera thickens flor de calabaza. In the Sierra Gorda, comales and molcajetes hold the memory of Otomí cooks. Yuriria has its caldo michi. Cada estado, su propia cocina.