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Created by Chef Lupita
Sonora's morning plate. Day-old tortillas crisped on the comal and bathed in chile colorado, topped with hand-shredded machaca, a fried egg, and a hot sobaquera on the side to push it around with.
These are Sonoran chilaquiles. Not the green, swimming, Mexico City version with chicken and crema piled like a pyramid. Sonora is the noroeste, the desert and ranching state that runs from the Sea of Cortez to the sierra, and its cooking is built around what the desert and the cattle give: chile colorado from the irrigated valleys, beef from the ranches, wheat from the missions, chiltepin from the bird that drops the seeds in the brush.
The salsa is chile colorado. That is what Sonorans call the long, dark-red dried chile that anchors every red sauce in the state, from caldillo to machaca con chile to these chilaquiles. It is mild, deep, and sweet. You toast it, soak it, blend it, and fry it in manteca until the fat separates and the color turns to polished clay. Skip the frying and you have raw red water. Fry it properly and you have the backbone of noroeste cooking.
The machaca on top is not jerky. Let me say that once, clearly. Machaca is sun-dried beef, pounded with a wooden mallet until it is feathery, a preservation method the rancheras of Sonora have practiced for generations to keep meat through the dry months. The pounding is the technique. The drying is the patience. To call it jerky is to miss the point of an entire regional craft. If you can find real Sonoran machaca, from a carniceria with ties to the noroeste, use it. If not, the better Mexican groceries carry it under the names machaca norteña or carne seca de Sonora.
My mother was from Jalisco and she made chilaquiles rojos jaliscienses, soft and swimming, every Sunday of my childhood. I learned this Sonoran version on a long trip through Hermosillo and Magdalena de Kino, sitting at the comedor of a senora named Doña Hortensia who had been making them this way for forty years. She watched me eat the first plate, then she pushed a hot sobaquera across the table and told me to use it. In Sonora, the flour tortilla is not a Tex-Mex invention. It is the bread of the noroeste, born from Yaqui wheat and mission ovens, and it belongs at this table. Cada estado, su propia cocina.
Quantity
12
cut into quarters
Quantity
6
stemmed and seeded
Quantity
2
stemmed and seeded
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| day-old corn tortillascut into quarters | 12 |
| dried chile colorado (chile de la tierra)stemmed and seeded | 6 |
| dried chile guajillostemmed and seeded | 2 |
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