
Chef Lupita
Almejas Tatemadas de Loreto
Loreto's pit-roasted clams, planted hinge-up in beach sand and tatemadas under a fast fire of dried romerillo brush, the resinous Baja desert shrub that gives this dish its smoke.
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Sonora's savory orange chicken stew, bone-in pieces browned in lard and braised with Valencia orange, white onion, garlic, canela, and clove, finished at the table with warm flour tortillas to catch the sauce.
This is a Sonoran dish. Not the takeout orange chicken from a strip mall, not a sweet-and-sour invention from somewhere else. Pollo a la naranja from Sonora is a savory braise: bone-in chicken browned in lard, simmered with Valencia orange juice, white onion, garlic, canela, and clove, finished with flour tortillas at the table. Cada estado, su propia cocina, and this one belongs to the north.
Sonora is cattle country and wheat country, the state where the flour tortilla, the tortilla de harina, was perfected. Citrus arrived with the Jesuits in the 17th century and stayed in the kitchens of the Yaqui and Mayo communities along the rivers, where backyard orange trees still feed family stews like this one. The Valencia orange is the right choice. It carries acidity and depth where a navel would go flat. If your oranges are out of season or pale, squeeze a little extra and add the splash of vinegar I list below. Mexican grandmothers cook with what the mercado is selling today, not what looks pretty in a photo.
The spices, canela, clove, bay, are Sonoran in their restraint. Two cloves, not ten. One stick of canela, not three. The orange is supposed to taste like orange, warmed by the spice, not buried under it. My mother was from Jalisco and she did not cook this dish, but I copied this version into her notebook in 2014 after a week in Hermosillo with a senora named Doña Cuca, who served it on a green-glazed plate with a stack of flour tortillas the size of dinner plates. She told me the secret was the vinegar and the patience to brown the skin properly. Saber cocinar es saber vivir.
Citrus arrived in Sonora through the Jesuit missions established along the Yaqui and Mayo river valleys beginning in 1617, where Padre Andres Perez de Ribas and his successors planted orange, lime, and pomegranate trees alongside wheat fields to support the missions and trade with the indigenous communities. The Valencia orange, named for the Spanish region but propagated commercially in California in the 1870s, became the dominant variety in northwestern Mexico's home orchards by the early 20th century, displacing the more bitter Seville orange used in colonial-era stews. Sonoran braised dishes that pair citrus with savory spices like canela and clove reflect the broader northern Mexican pantry shaped by Spanish, Yaqui, and Chinese-Mexican influences, the last arriving with railroad labor in the late 19th century and leaving its mark on the region's confidence with sweet-savory braises.
Quantity
1 (about 4 pounds)
cut into 8 bone-in pieces, skin on
Quantity
2 teaspoons, plus more to taste
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
3 tablespoons
Quantity
1
halved and thinly sliced
Quantity
6
finely chopped
Quantity
2 medium
finely chopped
Quantity
1 cup (from about 4 oranges)
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
2 tablespoons
Quantity
1 (about 3 inches)
Quantity
4
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1
sliced into thin rounds, peel on
Quantity
for serving
warmed on the comal
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| whole chickencut into 8 bone-in pieces, skin on | 1 (about 4 pounds) |
| kosher salt | 2 teaspoons, plus more to taste |
| freshly ground black pepper | 1 teaspoon |
| manteca de cerdo (pork lard) | 3 tablespoons |
| large white onionhalved and thinly sliced | 1 |
| garlic clovesfinely chopped | 6 |
| Roma tomatoesfinely chopped | 2 medium |
| freshly squeezed Valencia orange juice | 1 cup (from about 4 oranges) |
| chicken broth | 1/2 cup |
| distilled white vinegar | 2 tablespoons |
| Mexican canela stick | 1 (about 3 inches) |
| whole cloves | 4 |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| dried Mexican oregano | 1 teaspoon |
| Valencia orangesliced into thin rounds, peel on | 1 |
| flour tortillas (optional)warmed on the comal | for serving |
| frijoles puercos or refried pinto beans (optional) | for serving |
| sliced raw white onion (optional) | for serving |
| lime wedges (optional) | for serving |
Pat the chicken pieces dry with a clean cloth. Wet skin will not brown. Season all over with the salt and black pepper and let the pieces sit at room temperature for fifteen minutes while you prep the rest. Cold chicken thrown into hot fat will steam, not sear. Sonoran cooks know this and they wait.
Melt the manteca in a wide, heavy cazuela or 12-inch Dutch oven over medium-high heat until it shimmers. Lay the chicken pieces in skin-side down without crowding. Work in two batches if you must. Brown for six to eight minutes per side, until the skin is deep golden and lifts cleanly from the pan. La manteca es el sabor. The fond on the bottom of the pot is the second layer of flavor, do not lose it. Transfer the browned pieces to a plate.
Lower the heat to medium. There should be about three tablespoons of fat left in the pot. If there is more, spoon some off, but leave the brown bits stuck to the bottom. Add the sliced white onion and a pinch of salt. Cook for eight minutes, stirring often, until the onion turns soft and starts to color at the edges. Add the chopped garlic and cook one minute more, just until fragrant. Garlic that goes brown turns bitter.
Add the chopped tomato and cook for three minutes, smashing it with the back of a wooden spoon, until it breaks down into the onion. Pour in the orange juice, the chicken broth, and the vinegar. Scrape the bottom of the pot with the spoon to lift the fond. Drop in the canela stick, the cloves, the bay leaves, and the oregano crumbled between your palms. Bring everything to a gentle simmer.
Nestle the browned chicken back into the pot, skin side up, along with any juices from the plate. The liquid should come about halfway up the pieces. Lay the orange rounds on top so they steep into the broth without disappearing. Cover partially and simmer over low heat for thirty to thirty-five minutes, until the dark meat reads 175F on a thermometer and the broth has reduced and thickened slightly. Do not boil. A hard boil makes the chicken stringy and breaks the broth.
Lift the chicken pieces and the orange slices out onto a serving platter. Raise the heat under the pot to medium-high and reduce the braising liquid for five to seven minutes, until it coats the back of a spoon. Fish out the canela, the cloves, and the bay leaves and discard them. Taste for salt now. The orange should be present but not sweet, savory, with the warmth of the spices behind it. Pour the sauce back over the chicken on the platter.
Bring the platter to the table with warm flour tortillas wrapped in a cotton servilleta, a clay cazuelita of frijoles puercos, sliced raw onion, and lime wedges. In Sonora the flour tortilla is what catches the sauce. Tear, dip, eat. Asi se hace y punto.
1 serving (about 310g)
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