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Tlaxcala's electric-green chorizo, pork cured with cilantro, perejil, poblano, and pepita, fried crisp in lard and folded into soft scrambled eggs. The breakfast that announces what state you are in.
This is Tlaxcala. Specifically the highland towns around Huamantla, San Pablo del Monte, and the central valley villages where the green chorizo has been made for generations and where it shows up on the breakfast table the way red chorizo shows up everywhere else in Mexico.
What makes it green is not food coloring. It is a thick paste of cilantro, perejil, spinach, hierba santa, chile poblano, chile serrano, and toasted pepitas, blended tight and worked into ground pork until the meat turns an almost shocking color. The first time I saw it being made, in a kitchen in Huamantla in 2009, I thought the woman had spilled something. Then she handed me a taco and I understood. This is not red chorizo with herbs added. This is a separate animal entirely. Cada estado, su propia cocina.
The pepita is the detail that tells you this is Tlaxcala and not Puebla or Mexico state. Pre-Hispanic central highlands cooks ground pepitas into nearly everything, and the Tlaxcalan chorizo carries that lineage straight through the colonial pork into the modern skillet. Toast the pepitas. Do not skip them. They thicken the paste, they cling to the meat, and they bring the dish back to its real origin.
My mother did not make this. She was from Jalisco and Jalisco does not make green chorizo. But I found a recipe in her notebook copied from a Tlaxcalan friend, in pencil, with a single note in the margin: 'reposar mínimo una noche.' Rest it at least one night. She underlined it twice. She was right. Saber cocinar es saber vivir.
Chorizo verde is a culinary signature of Tlaxcala, Mexico's smallest state, and its origins reflect the central highlands' long tradition of grinding green herbs and pepitas (squash seeds) into sauces and meat preparations, a technique that predates Spanish contact by centuries. The dish in its modern form emerged in the post-colonial period when Spanish-introduced pork was wedded to indigenous pipian-style green seasoning bases, with the towns of Tetla and San Bernardino Contla often cited as the technique's seventeenth-century stronghold. Unlike red chorizo, which carries Iberian smoked-paprika DNA, Tlaxcalan green chorizo is one of the few sausages in the Americas whose primary flavor architecture is almost entirely pre-Hispanic, smoked paprika does not appear at all, and the color comes exclusively from fresh herbs and chile poblano.
Quantity
1 1/2 pounds
with at least 25 percent fat
Quantity
1 bunch (about 1 packed cup)
leaves and tender stems
Quantity
1 bunch (about 3/4 packed cup)
leaves only
Quantity
1 packed cup
Quantity
4 to 5 leaves
center rib removed
Quantity
1
charred, peeled, stemmed, and seeded
Quantity
2
stemmed
Quantity
1/3 cup
toasted on a comal
Quantity
5
Quantity
1/2 small
roughly chopped
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1 1/2 teaspoons
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 small
husked and rinsed
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
12
lightly beaten with a pinch of salt
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
warmed
Quantity
for serving
crumbled
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| ground pork shoulderwith at least 25 percent fat | 1 1/2 pounds |
| fresh cilantroleaves and tender stems | 1 bunch (about 1 packed cup) |
| fresh perejil (flat-leaf parsley)leaves only | 1 bunch (about 3/4 packed cup) |
| fresh spinach leaves | 1 packed cup |
| fresh hierba santa (optional)center rib removed | 4 to 5 leaves |
| fresh chile poblanocharred, peeled, stemmed, and seeded | 1 |
| fresh chile serranostemmed | 2 |
| raw pepitas (hulled pumpkin seeds)toasted on a comal | 1/3 cup |
| garlic cloves | 5 |
| white onionroughly chopped | 1/2 small |
| white vinegar | 2 tablespoons |
| kosher salt | 1 1/2 teaspoons |
| dried Mexican oregano | 1 teaspoon |
| ground cumin | 1/2 teaspoon |
| ground black pepper | 1/2 teaspoon |
| whole cloves | 2 |
| tomatillohusked and rinsed | 1 small |
| manteca de cerdo (pork lard) | 2 tablespoons |
| large eggslightly beaten with a pinch of salt | 12 |
| refried frijoles bayos (optional) | for serving |
| hand-pressed corn tortillas (optional)warmed | for serving |
| queso fresco (optional)crumbled | for serving |
| salsa verde cruda (optional) | for serving |
| sliced avocado (optional) | for serving |
Set the chile poblano directly over an open flame on the stove or on a hot comal. Turn with tongs until the skin is blistered and blackened on all sides, about six to eight minutes. Drop it into a bowl and cover with a plate for ten minutes. The trapped warmth loosens the skin. Rub the blackened skin off with your fingers, do not rinse it under water. Water washes away the smoke flavor you just worked for. Pull out the stem and seeds.
Heat a dry comal over medium. Add the pepitas in a single layer. Shake the pan often. They will puff and pop and turn pale gold in about three minutes. Pull them off the heat the moment they start to color. Burned pepitas taste like burned pepitas and there is no hiding that in a green chorizo.
Combine the cilantro, perejil, spinach, hierba santa, charred poblano, serranos, toasted pepitas, garlic, white onion, vinegar, salt, oregano, cumin, pepper, cloves, and the raw tomatillo in a blender. Blend on high until you have a thick, vivid green paste. No water. The herbs and the tomatillo release their own moisture. You want this paste tight, not soupy. If your blender struggles, push it down with a wooden spoon and pulse, but do not thin it out. This is the soul of the chorizo. Tlaxcala has been making this paste for generations and they do not water it down.
Place the ground pork in a wide bowl. Pour the green paste over it. With clean hands, mix it together thoroughly, working the paste into every part of the meat. The pork will turn an electric green, almost shocking to look at. That is the color the women of Tlaxcala have been chasing for over a century. Cover the bowl and refrigerate for at least four hours, preferably overnight. The chorizo needs time to cure. The herbs marry the fat. Skip this rest and you will taste the difference. No me vengas con atajos.
Heat the manteca in a wide heavy skillet, cast iron is best, over medium heat. When the lard shimmers, crumble in the cured chorizo, breaking it into small uneven pieces with a wooden spoon. Cook for eight to ten minutes, stirring often. The chorizo will release liquid first, then the liquid will cook off, then the fat will start to fry the meat. You want crisp edges and dark green pockets where the herb paste has caramelized against the pan. The kitchen should smell like cilantro, garlic, and rendered pork all at once.
When the chorizo is fully cooked and the edges are crisp, lower the heat to medium-low. Pour in the beaten eggs all at once. Wait ten seconds, then start dragging the eggs across the pan with the wooden spoon, pulling cooked curds to the center and letting the raw egg flow to the edges. Cook for two to three minutes, until the eggs are just set but still glossy. Do not overcook them. Dry eggs ruin chorizo con huevo. The eggs should hold the chorizo together, not absorb it.
Pull the skillet straight to the table on a wooden trivet. Set out warm corn tortillas in a basket lined with a cotton servilleta, a clay cazuelita of refried frijoles bayos, crumbled queso fresco, sliced avocado, and a bowl of salsa verde cruda. Each person builds their own taco at the table. This is a Tlaxcala breakfast, generous, green, and unapologetically pork. Recetas probadas y garantizadas.
1 serving (about 480g)
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