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Ciudad de México's basket tacos, folded around chicharrón prensado, bathed in guajillo-infused lard, and sweated under cloth for hours until the tortilla and filling become one thing.
Tacos de canasta belong to Ciudad de México. Not to a fancy restaurant in Polanco, but to the bicycle vendors of Colonia Doctores, Centro, and the neighborhoods around La Merced, men who balance enormous woven baskets on the back of a bike, ring a bell, and sell three tacos for the price of a coffee. These are the workers' lunch. The student's breakfast. The everyday taco of a city that runs on them.
The magic is not in the filling alone, though chicharrón prensado, the dense pressed pork that bears no resemblance to the airy fried chicharrón of salads, is one of the great fillings in Mexican cooking. The magic is in the sweating. You fold the tacos, bathe them in lard infused with toasted guajillo, layer them under a cloth in a deep basket, and walk away for three hours. The tortilla drinks the red fat. The filling settles into the masa. By the time you open the basket, the taco is no longer a tortilla wrapped around something. It is one thing. Soft, almost translucent at the edges, deep orange, tender enough that you eat it folded in your fingers without thinking.
This is comida de pueblo. Cheap, filling, made to feed a city that eats on the move. The dough was always cheap labor's friend. The chicharrón prensado was butcher's economy, the meat and fat pressed together and sold for less than a clean cut. The guajillo grew everywhere. The lard was already in the kitchen. My mother used to send me out at noon to chase down the canasta vendor on Calle Álvaro Obregón because she could not stop what she was doing. Three tacos in waxed paper, salsa verde in a tiny plastic bag tied with a knot. Lunch for fifteen pesos. Saber cocinar es saber vivir, but knowing where the canasta vendor passes at noon is also a form of survival.
Tacos de canasta, also called tacos sudados (sweated tacos) or tacos al vapor, emerged in central Mexico in the early 20th century as portable, inexpensive food for the working classes of Ciudad de México, originating in particular from Tlaxcala, where cooks first developed the basket-and-cloth technique to transport pre-made tacos to the capital for sale. The town of San Vicente Xiloxochitla in Tlaxcala is widely credited as the birthplace of the modern taco de canasta vendor tradition, with families from that town establishing the bicycle-and-basket route network that still operates across CDMX today. Chicharrón prensado itself, distinct from the airy fried chicharrón, is a 19th-century product of urban Mexican butchery economy, pressing the trimmings, skin, and fat into a dense, seasoned brick that could be sold at a lower price than prime cuts.
Quantity
24
about 10 to 12 cm across
Quantity
1 pound
broken into rough chunks
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
1 medium
finely chopped
Quantity
4
finely chopped
Quantity
2
stemmed and seeded
Quantity
2
stemmed and seeded
Quantity
1
stemmed
Quantity
2
Quantity
1 teaspoon
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
to taste
Quantity
1/2 cup
Quantity
4
stemmed and seeded
Quantity
2
peeled
Quantity
1/2 teaspoon
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
Quantity
for serving
| Ingredient | Quantity |
|---|---|
| small hand-pressed corn tortillasabout 10 to 12 cm across | 24 |
| chicharrón prensadobroken into rough chunks | 1 pound |
| pork lard (manteca de cerdo), for the filling | 1/2 cup |
| white onionfinely chopped | 1 medium |
| garlic clovesfinely chopped | 4 |
| dried chile guajillo (for filling)stemmed and seeded | 2 |
| dried chile pasillastemmed and seeded | 2 |
| dried chile de arbol (optional)stemmed | 1 |
| bay leaves | 2 |
| dried Mexican oregano | 1 teaspoon |
| ground cumin | 1/2 teaspoon |
| kosher salt | to taste |
| pork lard (manteca de cerdo), for the guajillo oil | 1/2 cup |
| dried chile guajillo (for the oil)stemmed and seeded | 4 |
| garlic cloves (for the oil)peeled | 2 |
| kosher salt (for the oil) | 1/2 teaspoon |
| salsa verde cruda (optional) | for serving |
| salsa roja de chile de arbol (optional) | for serving |
| pickled jalapeños and carrots (optional) | for serving |
| lime wedges (optional) | for serving |
Heat a dry comal or heavy skillet over medium. Toast the 2 guajillos, 2 pasillas, and the chile de arbol if you are using it. About 20 to 30 seconds per side. They should puff and turn fragrant, never blacken. Pasilla burns the fastest. Watch it.
Cover the toasted chiles with hot tap water, not boiling, and let them soften for 15 minutes. Drain. Transfer to a blender with 1/2 cup of fresh water, the bay leaves, oregano, cumin, and a generous pinch of salt. Blend until completely smooth. Strain through a fine-mesh sieve, pressing on the solids. Discard the skins.
In a wide skillet or cazuela, melt the 1/2 cup of lard over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for 5 minutes until soft and translucent. Add the garlic and cook one minute more. Add the chicharrón prensado and break it apart with a wooden spoon. It will start to soften into the fat. Pour in the strained chile puree. It will sputter. Stir, lower the heat, and cook for 25 to 30 minutes, stirring often, until the mixture darkens to a deep brick color and the fat separates around the edges.
The filling should be moist but not soupy. You should be able to scoop it with a spoon and have it hold its shape on a tortilla. Taste for salt. Chicharrón prensado is already seasoned, so taste before you add. Let the filling cool slightly. It is easier to fill warm tortillas with a warm filling than with one that is screaming hot.
In a small saucepan, melt the second 1/2 cup of lard over low heat. Add the 4 toasted guajillos (toast them on the comal first, same as before), the 2 garlic cloves, and 1/2 teaspoon salt. Cook gently for 10 minutes. The lard will turn deep orange-red and smell of toasted chile and garlic. Strain into a heatproof bowl. This is the oil that bathes every taco. Without it, you do not have tacos de canasta. You have folded tacos in a basket.
Heat the comal over medium. Warm each tortilla for 15 to 20 seconds per side, just enough that it becomes pliable. Do not toast it. A tortilla that is too dry will crack when you fold it. A tortilla that is too soft will tear. You want supple. Stack them under a clean cotton servilleta as you work.
Place a warm tortilla on a work surface. Spoon about 1 1/2 tablespoons of the chicharrón filling along the center. Fold the tortilla in half to enclose the filling. Do not roll. These are folded tacos, not flautas. Work quickly so the tortillas stay warm and flexible.
Line a deep basket or a heavy Dutch oven with a clean cotton cloth, large enough to fold over the top and cover everything. Brush or spoon a thin layer of the guajillo lard onto the cloth. Lay the folded tacos in a single layer, edges tucked under so they do not unfold. Drizzle generously with the guajillo lard. Add another layer of tacos. More lard. Keep building until all the tacos are layered and well-bathed in the red fat. Fold the cloth over the top to cover completely, then close the basket lid or cover the Dutch oven with a heavy lid.
Let the basket sit at room temperature for at least 2 hours, ideally 3. This is the step nobody can skip. The tacos sweat under the cloth. The tortillas absorb the guajillo lard and turn pliable and almost translucent. The filling and the tortilla become one thing. This is what makes a taco de canasta a taco de canasta. No me vengas con atajos.
Set the open basket on the table. Pull the cloth back. The tacos will be soft, dark red-orange from the guajillo lard, and tender enough to come apart with your fingers. Serve with salsa verde cruda, salsa de chile de arbol, pickled jalapeños and carrots, and lime. Two or three per person, with a glass of agua de jamaica or a Coca-Cola. Así se hace y punto.
1 serving (about 200g)
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