
Chef Lupita
Camarones a la Diabla Nayaritas
Nayarit's Pacific shrimp, seared quickly and coated in a red sauce of chile de arbol, chipotle, tomato, and garlic, the kind of heat that belongs beside white rice and warm corn tortillas.
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Jalisco's pastel azteca layers fried corn tortillas, shredded chicken, roasted poblano rajas, fresh corn, tomato chile sauce, crema, and queso adobera into a casserole built for carrying to the table.
Jalisco gives this pastel azteca its attitude through corn, dairy, and roasted chile poblano. In Guadalajara and the towns around Lake Chapala, this is the kind of baked dish that appears when a family needs to feed many people without making a spectacle of itself. A clay dish on the table. A knife sunk through the layers. Everyone serves themselves. Así se hace y punto.
The tortillas are corn and they are fried in manteca de cerdo before layering. Not flour tortillas. Flour belongs to the north, where wheat made sense in the borderlands and ranch country. Here, corn carries the dish, and the lard protects the tortilla so it softens in the sauce without collapsing into paste. La manteca es el sabor, but it is also structure.
The rajas matter. Chile poblano roasted until the skin blisters, sliced with white onion and fresh corn, then tucked between chicken and tomato sauce. The cheese should be queso adobera if you can find it, that soft Jalisco cheese from the west and Los Altos that melts cleanly without turning greasy. If your market has only queso Oaxaca, use it and know what you are missing. A substitution is a compromise, not an upgrade.
My mother had a version like this in her notebook from Jalisco, written under the title pastel de tortillas para llevar. For carrying. That tells you what kind of food this is. Not restaurant food. Not decoration. La cocina no es decoración, es trabajo. Recetas probadas y garantizadas.
Pastel azteca is a 20th-century home-kitchen casserole that grew from older Mexican practices of softening stale corn tortillas in chile or tomato sauces, then layering them with leftover meats and dairy after ovens became more common in middle-class urban homes. The name is modern and national, but regional versions change sharply: central Mexican cooks often use salsa verde or mole, while western versions in Jalisco commonly lean on chicken, roasted poblano rajas, corn, crema, and local melting cheeses such as queso adobera. Its practical purpose is as important as its flavor: it turns yesterday's tortillas and cooked chicken into a dish sturdy enough for family gatherings, church meals, and potlucks.
Quantity
3 large
Quantity
1/2 medium
Quantity
3
peeled
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 tablespoon, plus more to taste
Quantity
8 large
Quantity
3 tablespoons, divided, plus more for frying tortillas
Quantity
1 medium
thinly sliced
Quantity
4 ears
kernels cut from the cob
Quantity
2 pounds
Quantity
2
stemmed and seeded
Quantity
1
stemmed and seeded
Quantity
2
unpeeled
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
1/4 teaspoon
Quantity
18
preferably day-old
Quantity
1 1/2 cups
Quantity
12 ounces
shredded
Quantity
1/2 cup
finely crumbled
Quantity
1/2 cup
as needed
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| bone-in chicken breasts, skin on | 3 large |
| white onion | 1/2 medium |
| garlic clovespeeled | 3 |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| kosher salt | 1 tablespoon, plus more to taste |
| fresh chile poblano | 8 large |
| pork lard (manteca de cerdo) | 3 tablespoons, divided, plus more for frying tortillas |
| white onionthinly sliced | 1 medium |
| fresh cornkernels cut from the cob | 4 ears |
| ripe Roma tomatoes | 2 pounds |
| dried chile guajillostemmed and seeded | 2 |
| dried chile anchostemmed and seeded | 1 |
| garlic clovesunpeeled | 2 |
| dried Mexican oregano | 1/2 teaspoon |
| ground cumin | 1/4 teaspoon |
| corn tortillaspreferably day-old | 18 |
| Mexican crema | 1 1/2 cups |
| queso adobera or queso Oaxacashredded | 12 ounces |
| queso Cotijafinely crumbled | 1/2 cup |
| chicken brothas needed | 1/2 cup |
| chopped fresh cilantro (optional) | for serving |
| thinly sliced white onion (optional) | for serving |
Put the chicken breasts in a pot with the half onion, peeled garlic cloves, bay leaves, salt, and enough cold water to cover by one inch. Bring to a gentle simmer, then lower the heat and cook 25 to 30 minutes, until the meat is cooked through and still juicy. Do not boil it hard. Stringy chicken comes from impatience, not from tradition.
Lift the chicken onto a plate and let it cool until you can handle it. Pull the meat from the bones and shred it with your fingers or two forks. Strain the broth and save at least 1 cup. That broth carries the onion, garlic, and chicken fat. Water does not.
Roast the chile poblano directly over a gas flame, under a broiler, or on a hot comal until the skins blister and blacken in patches. Put them in a covered bowl for 10 minutes, then peel away the skins. Remove stems and seeds, then slice the flesh into rajas. The chile poblano gives this pastel its green, roasted flavor. This is not a dish that needs to burn your mouth. Not all Mexican food is hot.
Melt 1 tablespoon lard in a wide skillet over medium heat. Add the sliced onion and cook until soft and translucent, about 6 minutes. Add the poblano rajas and fresh corn kernels. Cook 5 minutes more, until the corn turns glossy and the poblanos smell roasted and sweet. Salt lightly. If the market corn is not sweet today, do not force it. Use fewer kernels and let the poblano lead.
Heat a dry comal over medium. Toast the chile guajillo and chile ancho about 20 to 30 seconds per side, just until they soften and smell deep, never black. Set them in hot water for 15 minutes. On the same comal, roast the tomatoes and unpeeled garlic until the tomatoes have charred spots and the garlic softens. This is where the sauce gets body. Raw tomato sauce tastes thin, and you will know it in the first bite.
Peel the roasted garlic. Blend the roasted tomatoes, softened guajillo, softened ancho, garlic, Mexican oregano, cumin, and 1/2 cup reserved chicken broth until completely smooth. Strain if your blender leaves pieces of chile skin. You want a sauce that coats the back of a spoon, not a watery salsa.
Melt 2 tablespoons lard in a saucepan over medium heat. Pour in the blended sauce carefully because it will sputter. Cook 10 to 12 minutes, stirring often, until it darkens from bright red to brick red and the fat begins to shine at the edges. Taste for salt. La manteca es el sabor, and it also tells the tomato and chile to behave like one sauce.
Add enough lard to a skillet to come 1/4 inch up the side and heat over medium. Fry each tortilla 10 to 15 seconds per side, just until flexible and lightly blistered, not crisp like a tostada. Drain on paper towels. Flour tortillas do not belong here. This casserole is built on corn, the backbone of the country.
Heat the oven to 375F. Spread a thin layer of sauce in a 9-by-13-inch clay or ceramic baking dish. Add 6 fried tortillas, overlapping to cover the bottom. Spread with one third of the shredded chicken, one third of the rajas and corn, a ladle of sauce, a few spoonfuls of crema, and a handful of queso adobera. Repeat twice more, ending with sauce, crema, queso adobera, and the crumbled Cotija.
Bake uncovered for 25 to 30 minutes, until the edges bubble, the cheese melts into the crema, and the top has golden spots. Let it rest 12 minutes before cutting. If you cut it straight from the oven, the layers slide apart and you blame the recipe. The recipe is not the problem.
Serve the pastel from the baking dish at the table, with chopped cilantro and thin white onion if you like them. The piece should hold in soft layers: tortilla, chicken, poblano, corn, tomato chile sauce, crema, cheese. This is potluck food because it travels well, feeds many, and tastes even better after the sauce has settled into the tortillas.
1 serving (about 390g)
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