
Chef Lupita
Banderillas de Hojaldre Capitalinas
Ciudad de Mexico's panaderia banderillas are long sticks of hojaldre pressed with sugar, baked until amber, and finished with a hard glaze for coffee at the kitchen table.
A cooking platform built around craft, culture, and the stories behind what we eat.

Created by
Queretaro's leaf-thin Easter pastries, stretched until nearly translucent, fried in manteca until crisp, then brushed with piloncillo syrup perfumed with anise and canela.
Queretaro, the central highlands, the Bajio queretano. That is where these hojuelas belong, especially in Santiago de Queretaro during Semana Santa, when the sweet smell of piloncillo, canela, and anis moves through kitchens that still remember their convent discipline.
These are not doughnuts. They are not buñuelos with a different name, although the family resemblance is there. Hojuelas are rolled thinner, often cut like leaves, and fried until they blister and break cleanly under your teeth. The syrup matters: piloncillo, anis seed, Mexican canela, and a little orange peel if the market has good citrus. No bottled pancake syrup. No me vengas con atajos.
I learned a version like this from a señora near Mercado de La Cruz who rolled the dough so thin I could see the pattern of the oilcloth through it. She said the dough tells you when it is ready: elastic, rested, and not fighting the rolling pin. That is the lesson. You don't bully pastry. You give it lard, rest, heat, and patience. Saber cocinar es saber vivir.
Hojuelas in central Mexico descend from Spanish convent frying traditions adapted in New Spain with local sweeteners, especially piloncillo made from cane introduced after the 16th century. In Queretaro and neighboring Bajio states, the pastries became tied to Lent and Semana Santa, when meatless cooking gave more space to fried breads, capirotada, and syruped sweets. The anise syrup reflects an old colonial pantry where European spices met Mexican sugar-making and home cooks turned restraint into celebration.
Quantity
3 cups, plus more for rolling
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
2 tablespoons
softened
Quantity
2 pounds
Quantity
2
Quantity
1/2 cup
made from 1 teaspoon anise seed steeped in 1/2 cup hot water
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1 cone, about 8 ounces
chopped
Quantity
1 cup
Quantity
1
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
2 strips
Quantity
1 pinch
Quantity
for finishing
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| all-purpose flour | 3 cups, plus more for rolling |
| granulated sugar | 1 tablespoon |
| fine sea salt | 1/2 teaspoon |
| baking powder | 1/2 teaspoon |
| manteca de cerdosoftened | 2 tablespoons |
| manteca de cerdo for frying | 2 pounds |
| large eggs | 2 |
| warm anise teamade from 1 teaspoon anise seed steeped in 1/2 cup hot water | 1/2 cup |
| orange juice | 1 tablespoon |
| Mexican vanilla extract | 1 teaspoon |
| piloncillo conechopped | 1 cone, about 8 ounces |
| water | 1 cup |
| Mexican canela stick | 1 |
| anise seed | 1 teaspoon |
| orange peel | 2 strips |
| fine sea salt for syrup | 1 pinch |
| granulated sugar (optional) | for finishing |
Steep 1 teaspoon anise seed in 1/2 cup hot water for 10 minutes. Strain and let it cool until warm, not hot. The anise should perfume the dough quietly. If it smells medicinal, you used too much.
Whisk the flour, sugar, salt, and baking powder in a wide bowl. Rub in the softened manteca with your fingers until the flour feels sandy. Beat in the eggs, warm anise tea, orange juice, and vanilla. Knead 6 to 8 minutes, until the dough is smooth and elastic. It should feel firm but not dry.
Cover the dough with a clean cloth and rest it for 45 minutes at room temperature. This rest is what lets you roll it thin without tearing. Skip it and the dough will pull back like a stubborn mule. The señoras who perfected this knew when to wait.
Combine the chopped piloncillo, water, canela, anise seed, orange peel, and salt in a small saucepan. Simmer over medium-low heat for 12 to 15 minutes, until glossy and lightly thickened. Strain it and keep it warm. The syrup should coat a spoon but still run easily.
Divide the dough into 24 small balls. On a lightly floured table, roll each one into a thin oval or leaf shape, about 7 inches long. You should almost see the table through it. Cut a small vein down the center with a knife if you want the leaf shape. Do not make them thick. Thick hojuelas are lazy hojuelas.
Melt the frying manteca in a wide heavy pot and heat to 350F. Fry one or two hojuelas at a time, 30 to 45 seconds per side, pressing gently with tongs so they blister evenly. They should turn pale gold with darker freckles at the edges. Drain on a rack, not paper towels, so they stay crisp.
Brush the warm hojuelas with the anise piloncillo syrup or drizzle it over the stack just before serving. Add a little granulated sugar only if your family does it that way. Serve them piled high on the table, not plated one by one like a museum object. La cocina no es decoracion, es trabajo.
1 serving (about 40g)
Culinary guides, cultural storytelling, and the editorial depth that makes cooking meaningful.
Discover Culinary Explorer
Chef Lupita
Ciudad de Mexico's panaderia banderillas are long sticks of hojaldre pressed with sugar, baked until amber, and finished with a hard glaze for coffee at the kitchen table.

Chef Lupita
Hidalgo's bisquet de nata carries Pachuca's mining history into the breakfast table: a Cornish-style bread softened by Mexican nata, split warm and eaten with café de olla.

Chef Lupita
Puebla's Christmas buñuelo is a paper-thin wheat dough stretched over the knee, fried until crisp, then bathed with piloncillo syrup scented with anise, canela, and fresh guava.

Chef Lupita
Hidalgo's mining-town campechana is a brittle sheet of manteca pastry, rolled on a broomstick-thin palote and baked under sugar until the top turns to caramel glass.