
Chef Lupita
Cemita Árabe Poblana
Puebla's domed sesame cemita stacked with thin-sliced árabe pork, quesillo, avocado, pápalo, and chipotle en adobo. The Lebanese-Mexican handshake, all on one roll.
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Mexico City's huarache de bistec, an oblong masa sole crisped on the comal and piled with refried beans, chopped grilled steak, salsa, onion, crema and queso fresco. Born in the puestos of the chilango streets.
The huarache belongs to Ciudad de México. Not to the country, to the city. It was invented in the 1930s at the puestos around the old Merced market, where a vendor named Carmen Gomez stretched masa into the shape of a leather sandal so that one base could hold enough toppings to feed a working man for a few centavos. The name stuck. The shape stuck. The dish belongs to the chilangos and you will not find a real one outside the Valle de Mexico without someone who carried the recipe with them.
A huarache is not a sope, not a tlacoyo, and absolutely not a flatbread. It is its own thing. Oblong like the sandal it is named for, thicker than a tortilla, crisped in lard on the comal, and built with a specific order of toppings: beans first, then the meat, then salsa, then the raw onion and cilantro, then crema, and queso fresco on top. The order matters. The beans glue everything to the masa. The crema and queso cool the chile. The onion and cilantro cut through the fat. Every layer has a job.
The bistec is street meat. Skirt or thin sirloin, seasoned with garlic, lime, and salt, cooked fast on a hot comal, then chopped, never sliced. I grew up eating huaraches at a puesto two blocks from my mother's apartment in Colonia Roma. The woman who ran it cooked the masa over a comal blackened from twenty years of service and crisped each huarache in a pool of lard the color of brown sugar. Her hands moved without thinking. Saber cocinar es saber vivir, and she knew.
This is a weeknight dish if you have the masa ready. It is budget food, the kind that fed three generations of working people in this city. Do not dress it up. Do not put cheddar on it. Do not call it a tostada. A huarache is a huarache.
The huarache was invented in Mexico City in the 1930s, generally credited to a street vendor named Carmen Gomez Medina who worked the puestos around the Mercado de la Merced and shaped the masa to resemble the woven leather sandal still worn by rural migrants arriving in the capital. The dish spread quickly through the working-class colonias of the Valle de Mexico during the post-revolutionary urbanization that doubled the city's population between 1930 and 1950, becoming a staple of the antojitos repertoire alongside the older sope, tlacoyo, and quesadilla. Unlike its regional cousins, the huarache has remained almost exclusively a chilango dish, defended by Mexico City vendors as a marker of capital identity in a country where most antojitos are claimed by multiple states.
Quantity
1 pound
Quantity
2 cloves
minced
Quantity
1 tablespoon
Quantity
1 teaspoon, plus more to taste
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
2 tablespoons, plus more for the comal
Quantity
2 cups
Maseca, Bob's Red Mill, or any masa harina labeled nixtamalizada
Quantity
1 1/4 cups, plus more as needed
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
1 1/2 cups
warm and loose enough to spread
Quantity
1 cup
tomatillo, chile serrano, cilantro, white onion, salt
Quantity
1 cup
for those who want heat
Quantity
1 medium
finely diced
Quantity
1/2 cup
chopped
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
1 cup
crumbled
Quantity
2
sliced into thin rounds
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| skirt steak or thinly sliced top sirloin (bistec) | 1 pound |
| garlicminced | 2 cloves |
| fresh lime juice | 1 tablespoon |
| kosher salt | 1 teaspoon, plus more to taste |
| freshly ground black pepper | 1/2 teaspoon |
| lard (manteca de cerdo) | 2 tablespoons, plus more for the comal |
| masa harina (nixtamalized corn flour)Maseca, Bob's Red Mill, or any masa harina labeled nixtamalizada | 2 cups |
| warm water | 1 1/4 cups, plus more as needed |
| kosher salt for the masa | 1/2 teaspoon |
| frijoles refritos (black or bayos)warm and loose enough to spread | 1 1/2 cups |
| salsa verde crudatomatillo, chile serrano, cilantro, white onion, salt | 1 cup |
| salsa roja de chile de arbol (optional)for those who want heat | 1 cup |
| white onionfinely diced | 1 medium |
| fresh cilantrochopped | 1/2 cup |
| crema mexicana | 1/2 cup |
| queso frescocrumbled | 1 cup |
| fresh chile serrano (optional)sliced into thin rounds | 2 |
| lime wedges (optional) | for serving |
Lay the steak flat on a cutting board and pound it lightly with the side of a heavy knife until the slices are about a quarter inch thick. Toss with the garlic, lime juice, salt, and black pepper. Let it sit at room temperature for at least 20 minutes while you work the masa. Bistec is street meat. It does not need a marinade for hours. Twenty minutes is enough to season it through.
In a wide bowl, combine the masa harina and the half teaspoon of salt. Add the warm water in a steady stream while you work the masa with your hand. Knead for two or three minutes until you have a smooth, pliable dough that feels like soft modeling clay. Press a piece between your fingers. If the edges crack, the masa is too dry: add water a tablespoon at a time. If it sticks to your hand like glue, it is too wet: add a spoonful of masa harina. Cover with a damp cloth and rest for 15 minutes. The masa hydrates fully while it sits.
Divide the masa into six equal balls, about three ounces each. Working one at a time, roll a ball into a thick cylinder between your palms. Place it between two sheets of plastic (a cut-open ziplock bag works) and press it flat with a tortilla press or the bottom of a heavy skillet. You want an oblong shape about seven inches long, four inches wide, and a generous quarter inch thick. The name huarache comes from the leather sandal. The shape should look like the sole of a sandal. Thicker than a tortilla, thinner than a sope.
Heat a dry comal or heavy cast iron skillet over medium for at least five minutes. The surface should be hot enough that a drop of water dances and disappears. Lay a huarache on the comal and cook for three minutes on the first side, until the bottom is dry and lightly speckled with brown spots. Flip and cook for another three minutes. The masa should look matte, not raw, and feel firm to the touch. Set aside on a clean cloth and repeat with the remaining masa. Do not stack them while hot. The steam softens the bottoms and ruins the texture.
Heat the lard on a wide skillet or the same comal over medium-high until it shimmers. Lay the bistec down in a single layer (work in batches if needed) and cook for about 90 seconds per side, until the edges crisp and the meat is just cooked through. Move to a cutting board, let it rest for one minute, then chop it into rough half-inch pieces. The bistec on a huarache is chopped, not sliced. That is how it is served at the puestos.
Wipe out the comal and add a tablespoon of lard. When it is shimmering, lay a huarache down and press it gently with a spatula. Cook for about a minute, until the bottom turns golden and crisp at the edges. Flip and crisp the second side the same way. La manteca es el sabor. A huarache cooked dry tastes like cardboard. A huarache crisped in manteca tastes like the streetcorner outside the Metro Hidalgo at eleven at night. That is the difference.
Move the crisped huarache to a plate. Working fast while it is still hot, spread two to three tablespoons of warm frijoles refritos across the surface, edge to edge. Pile a generous portion of chopped bistec on top. Spoon over the salsa verde (and a stripe of salsa roja if you want both heat and color). Scatter the diced onion and cilantro across the top. Drizzle with crema mexicana. Finish with a generous handful of crumbled queso fresco. Serve immediately with lime wedges. A huarache eaten cold is a wasted huarache. Así se hace y punto.
1 serving (about 335g)
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