Ensalada de Pollo

This is a Ciudad de México dish. Not a Yucatecan one, not a Sinaloan one. Chilango. You will find it behind the glass at every fonda in Colonia Roma, every torta cart outside the Metro, every tlapaleria that also sells lunch. It is what feeds office workers and students and abuelas who do not feel like cooking that day. It is also what you pack for a kermesse, a velorio, a Sunday at the park.

The technique is humble, but the seasoning is the whole argument. Anyone can boil chicken and dice potato. What makes this ensalada chilanga is the splash of brine from the can of chiles jalapeños en escabeche. That vinegar, carrying the memory of carrot, onion, bay leaf, and chile, is what wakes up the crema. Skip the brine and you have an American deli salad. Add it and you have what the señora at the corner fonda has been making since before you were born.

My mother kept a can of La Costeña jalapeños open in the refrigerator at all times. She used the chiles for one thing and the brine for another, and her ensalada de pollo went into our tortas every week. She shredded the chicken by hand on Sunday afternoons while she listened to the radio. Hand-shredded, always. The food processor was for people in a hurry, and she was never in a hurry when it came to feeding us. Cada estado, su propia cocina, and this one belongs to the capital.