Ensalada de Papa de Fonda

This is a fonda dish. The fondas are the small family-run lunch counters that feed working Mexico City and most of the central states from one o'clock to four, and every one of them has a glass bowl of ensalada de papa on the steam-table line beside the arroz rojo, the frijoles de la olla, and the milanesa empanizada. You order the comida corrida and the ensalada arrives without being asked. Tres pesos extra if you want a bigger scoop.

The dish has Spanish bones, of course. Potato salad came with the colonial table and stayed. What makes this version Mexican is the brine from the can of chiles jalapeños en escabeche, three tablespoons of it folded into the crema and mayonnaise, carrying acid, salt, garlic, and a low heat that cuts straight through the richness. Without that brine you have a bland salad. With it, you have the fonda version. No me vengas con atajos. Open the can. Use the liquid.

My mother kept a can of La Costena jalapeños open in the refrigerator at all times, and when she made ensalada de papa on hot days in Colonia Roma, she would stand at the counter tasting the dressing with a spoon, adding brine, tasting again, adding more. She wrote in the margin of her notebook: 'la salmuera, no la sal.' The brine, not the salt. She was right. Saber cocinar es saber vivir.