
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 mixed taco off the comal: suadero confited in lard, longaniza crisped in its own fat, and chicharron prensado for the crunch. Doble tortilla, raw onion, cilantro, salsa. Order it con todo.
The campechano is from Ciudad de México. Not from Campeche, despite the name. This is a street taco that belongs to the late-night taquerias of Colonia Roma, Condesa, Narvarte, Doctores, the places where you stand at a counter at midnight and the taquero asks what you want and you say campechano con todo.
The meat is the point. Suadero, a thin cut of beef from between the brisket and the flank, cooked slowly in lard until it surrenders. Longaniza, the long red sausage that Mexico City prefers over chorizo for its slightly coarser grind and its deeper red color from achiote. And chicharron prensado, the pressed pork rind that brings the crunch. Three meats on the comal at the same time, mixed together the moment you order. That is the dish. Anything else is a different taco with the wrong name.
The word campechano comes from the verb campechanear, to mix freely, to combine without ceremony. CDMX taqueros borrowed it for a taco that refused to pick a single meat. My mother did not eat tacos at street stands. She thought it was undignified for a woman from Colonia Roma. I started eating them at sixteen on Avenida Cuauhtemoc after school, two campechanos and a Boing de mango, and I learned more about Mexico City in those evenings than in any classroom at UNAM. Cada estado, su propia cocina, and the campechano is what Ciudad de México sends to the table.
Do not overthink this. Suadero needs lard, not water. Longaniza is not chorizo. Chicharron stays on the comal long enough to warm, not long enough to wilt. Doble tortilla because the fat will defeat a single one. Saber cocinar es saber vivir, and knowing how to eat a campechano is part of that.
The taco campechano emerged in Mexico City's working-class taquerias in the mid-20th century, when post-revolution migration from the states crowded the capital and taqueros began mixing meats to satisfy customers with mismatched preferences and to use up the trimmings of slower-moving cuts. The word campechano in colloquial Mexican Spanish means easygoing or sociable, and the verb campechanear, to mix without fuss, was applied to the taco as a kind of joke about its democratic combination of suadero, longaniza, and chicharron prensado. Despite the name, the dish has no documented connection to the state of Campeche on the Yucatan Peninsula; it is a chilango invention through and through, codified by legendary CDMX stands like Los Cocuyos in the Centro Historico and El Vilsito in Narvarte during the 1970s and 1980s.
Quantity
2 pounds
in one piece
Quantity
1 pound
skin removed, cut into 2-inch chunks
Quantity
1 pound
casings removed
Quantity
1/2 pound
or crispy pork rinds, broken into small pieces
Quantity
1 medium
halved
Quantity
1
halved crosswise
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 tablespoon, plus more to taste
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1 pound
Quantity
1
halved
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
24
hand-pressed if you can
Quantity
1 cup
Quantity
1 cup
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| beef brisket (flat cut)in one piece | 2 pounds |
| pork bellyskin removed, cut into 2-inch chunks | 1 pound |
| longaniza or fresh Mexican-style chorizocasings removed | 1 pound |
| chicharron prensadoor crispy pork rinds, broken into small pieces | 1/2 pound |
| white onionhalved | 1 medium |
| head of garlichalved crosswise | 1 |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| kosher salt | 1 tablespoon, plus more to taste |
| black peppercorns | 1 teaspoon |
| pork lard (manteca de cerdo) | 1 pound |
| orangehalved | 1 |
| whole milk | 1/2 cup |
| small corn tortillashand-pressed if you can | 24 |
| finely diced raw white onion (optional) | 1 cup |
| chopped fresh cilantro (optional) | 1 cup |
| lime wedges (optional) | for serving |
| salsa verde cruda (optional) | for serving |
| salsa roja de chile de arbol (optional) | for serving |
Rub the brisket with the kosher salt and the peppercorns crushed in a molcajete. Let it sit at room temperature for 20 minutes while you set up the rest of the kitchen. Suadero is brisket cooked in lard, not boiled in water, and the salt has to be on the meat from the start. This is the cut. Do not substitute chuck.
In a wide, heavy 8-quart Dutch oven or a copper cazo if you have one, melt the lard over medium-low heat until it is fully liquid and shimmering. Add the halved onion, the halved garlic head, the bay leaves, and the squeezed orange halves with their juice. Pour in the milk. The lard is the cooking medium and the aromatics are the seasoning. La manteca es el sabor. No me vengas con atajos.
Lower the brisket into the warm lard. The fat should come at least halfway up the meat. Lower the heat until the lard barely whispers around the brisket, just the occasional lazy bubble. Cook uncovered for one hour and a half. Do not let it boil. A boil tightens the meat and you will get suadero seco, the saddest version of this taco. The bath should look still, almost asleep.
After ninety minutes, add the pork belly chunks to the same pot. They join the suadero in the lard. Cook for another 45 minutes to an hour, until both the brisket and the belly are fork-tender but still hold their shape. The pork belly contributes fat and a deeper flavor to the lard, which will season everything that comes after.
Lift the brisket and the pork belly out of the lard with a slotted spoon and set them on a cutting board. Let them rest for ten minutes. Strain the rendered lard and save two cups of it. The rest goes in a jar in the refrigerator and you will use it for the next month. Chop the suadero and the pork belly into small dice, about the size of the tip of your thumb. This is the cut that taqueros in CDMX use on the trompo and the comal. Big chunks belong in a guisado, not in a taco campechano.
Heat a heavy 12-inch comal or cast iron skillet over medium-high. Add the longaniza, breaking it up with a wooden spoon as it cooks. It will release its own red-orange fat. Cook for about eight minutes, stirring often, until it is browned and crisped at the edges. Do not drain it. The fat is part of the mix.
Push the cooked longaniza to one side of the comal. On the other side, spoon a tablespoon of the reserved lard onto the hot surface. Add the chopped suadero and pork belly and let them sit for a minute to crisp on the bottom. Now sweep everything together, longaniza, suadero, and belly, and stir to combine. The mixture should look glossy, dark red-brown from the chorizo, with the suadero giving up its edges to the heat. This is the campechano mix.
Crumble the chicharron prensado into small pieces with your hands and scatter it across the mix on the comal. Toss for thirty seconds, just enough for the chicharron to absorb a little of the fat and soften at the edges while staying crunchy in the center. The chicharron is not a garnish. It is the third meat. That contrast of soft and crunchy is what makes a campechano a campechano and not just a mixed taco.
Heat a second comal or move the meat to one side. Warm the corn tortillas directly on the hot surface, about twenty seconds per side, until they puff and show small charred spots. Stack them in a folded servilleta to keep warm. A campechano needs two tortillas per taco. The first one will not survive the fat. Doble tortilla, always. Así se hace y punto.
Lay two warm tortillas in your palm, one on top of the other. Spoon two generous tablespoons of the campechano mix down the center. Top with raw white onion and cilantro. Squeeze a lime wedge over it. Add salsa verde or salsa roja, your call. Eat it standing up if you can. Con todo means everything went on, and a CDMX campechano eaten any other way is just lunch. Recetas probadas y garantizadas.
1 serving (about 350g)
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