Tacos stuffed with ‘chicharrón’ stew are a taste of Mexican home kitchens
Varying slightly from family to family, ‘chicharrones en salsa roja’ is simple, economical and family-friendly
The phone’s persistent ringing is what finally got me out of bed. It was early on a Friday morning. I was taking advantage of my shift starting a little later on Fridays and was sleeping in.
“Ani?” It was my niece.
“Hi sweetie, how are you?” She said she was at the market in my neighborhood, just a few blocks from the house.
“I want to make breakfast for Grandma. Do you know what kind of salsa Grandma likes for chicharrones?”
I rattled off a couple, and 15 minutes later, she was knocking at the door.
“What a nice surprise. Does Grandma know you were coming over?”
“No,” she answered with a big smile. She had just been over a few days earlier in the week to help my grandmother with some chores and had sensed that she was feeling a little lonely during the day. She decided to spend time with her when nothing needed doing other than having breakfast and listening to Grandma’s stories. Sweet, right?
Sadly, two months later, a massive stroke robbed us of my grandmother. Her appetite had waned considerably during the time leading up to her stroke. She had subsisted mainly on quesadillas and roasted sweet potatoes, but chicharrones en salsa always piqued her taste buds and got her eating.
Chicharrones in red or green salsa is a typical dish in most Mexican households. I grew up eating the red version, which my parents frequently made, as it’s a filling and economical dish, especially for a family with five kids (find my salsa verde version here).
As common as this dish is, you’d be hard-pressed to find it served at a taco shop or a sit-down Mexican restaurant north of the border. I had my friend Joanna over to help me make it for this post. Jo is an accomplished home cook who travels and loves to eat globally. She commented that she had never heard of stewing chicharrones.
“This is food for the soul,” she commented after tasting it for the first time.
My parents used regular pork rinds that you can find in the chips section of nearly any major grocery store ($2 a bag!). When making chicharrones en salsa roja, I prefer the smaller, curly chicharrón botanero made in-house at many Latin markets (I get mine at Northgate Market). This variety isn’t light and airy like the national brand varieties but is thicker, with a hard crunch. Some pieces even retain pork belly meat. The resulting stew is a chewier, more satiating eating experience. But certainly, if you don’t have access to a Latin market, regular commercial pork rinds will work just fine.
This type of guisado (stew) pairs well with a side of rice and beans and a stack of warm tortillas to sop it all up. I love this dish served as tacos, especially in the smaller street taco-size corn tortillas. Chicharrones en salsa roja also makes an excellent breakfast paired with a fried egg and fresh tortillas, which is how my parents served it for Sunday breakfast.
Let’s get cooking!
I like to start by prepping the onion because I use it two ways: diced for sauteeing in a bit of oil, and a thick slice that gets charred for the salsa.
The heat level in this salsa is about medium, depending on how hot the dry California chiles are (some have little heat; others have a kick) and whether you de-seed the serrano pepper. If you don’t care for spicy food, you can use guajillo chiles in place of California and leave out the serrano, for a balanced earthy flavor with no heat. On the other hand, if you love heat, add 2 or 3 more serranos or a couple of chiles de arból.
I set a small saucepan of water to a boil before prepping the chiles; I’ll use this to rehydrate them. I also set my griddle on medium heat to start warming up.
After washing and drying the chiles, I cut off the tops, slice down one side to open, remove the veins and scrape out the seeds (if using chiles de arból, just cut off the tops but leave the seeds).
Once prepped, the chiles hit the hot griddle, skin side down, and toast for about 30 seconds. I like to press down on the chiles with a spatula. I toast the second side until the inside flesh turns brighter and begins to blister, about another 30 to 45 seconds. You’ll need to be careful that you don’t burn the chiles (they do so quickly), making them bitter. When ready, I toss the chiles into the boiling water to steep, covering with a lid and taking the pot off the heat.
The tomatoes, onion slice, serrano chile and garlic clove will also spend some time charring on the hot griddle until softened and lightly blackened all over before I toss them and the rehydrated chiles into a blender to puree. This charring method helps develop their flavor and gives the salsa a smoky, umami taste.
Typical of most Mexican salsas, the salsa needs to be fried in a bit of oil to develop its flavor further. In Mexican cooking, this vital step is called “sazonando la salsa” (seasoning the sauce). To do so, I start by sauteeing the diced onions in oil. Once they’re softened and caramelizing, I pour in the salsa, stirring immediately to cut down on the splattering. I cover the pan and simmer the sauce for 15 minutes until it deepens in color and little pools of red chile oil dot the surface.
Finally, I add the chicharrones, usually in batches. As they soften, there’ll be room for the next batch. How long you cook them from here is all a matter of preference. The longer they cook, the more pliable they’ll become. I love them soft but still with a bit of toothsome chew. I find 20 minutes an optimal amount of time.
Just before serving, I like to stir in a half cup of chopped cilantro, something my parents didn’t do, but I love the freshness the herb brings to the tacos.
Chicharrones en Salsa Roja (Pork Rinds in Red Sauce)
“Chicharrones en salsa” — pork rinds stewed in a Mexican-style tomato sauce — is a traditional home-cooked dish, varying slightly family to family. Serve in tacos, burritos, over rice and beans or with a fried egg for a hearty breakfast.
Makes 6 servings
1 large onion, divided use
2 dried California chiles (can substitute with guajillo chiles)
2 cloves garlic with skin on
1 serrano pepper
1 pound Roma tomatoes
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 tablespoon Knorr granulated chicken bouillon or sea salt to taste
12 ounces chicharrón botanero, or regular pork rinds
TO SERVE:
½ cup chopped cilantro
Warm corn tortillas
Queso fresco, crumbled
Lime wedges
Cut a ½-inch-thick slice from the onion’s middle; set aside. Finely dice the rest of the onion; set aside.
Bring a small saucepan of water to a boil. Heat a griddle or cast-iron skillet on medium heat. Wash and dry the chiles. Cut off the tops, slice open and remove the veins and seeds. Toast the chiles, starting skin side down, for 30 to 45 seconds on each side, pressing them with a spatula to make full contact with the surface. Transfer them to the boiling water. Cover pot, turn off the heat and steep.
Char the onion slice, garlic and serrano pepper on the hot griddle. Transfer them to the blender when softened and charred on at least half their surface. Add the tomatoes to the hot griddle — blister and char on all sides. Transfer them to the blender. Toss in the rehydrated chiles and ¼ cup of the steeping liquid. Blend until smooth. (Work in batches if needed.)
Heat a 12-inch skillet over medium heat. Add oil; once shimmering, add the diced onions and saute until translucent. Stir in the bouillon, then pour in the salsa. Clean the blender jar by adding a bit of steeping liquid, swirling, then pouring the liquid into the pan. Simmer the salsa on medium-low heat for 15 minutes to thicken and develop flavor. It’s ready when the color of the sauce has deepened, and little pools of chile oil dot the surface.
Stir in the pork rinds to coat well in the sauce, working in batches if needed. Simmer for 20 minutes. Taste and add more bouillon or salt if needed. Just before serving, stir in the chopped cilantro.
To serve, stuff warm tortillas with the chicharrones and top with queso fresco, more cilantro and a squeeze of lime, if using.
Recipe is copyrighted by Anita L. Arambula and is reprinted by permission from “Confessions of a Foodie.”
Arambula is the food section art director and designer. She blogs at confessionsofafoodie.me, where the original version of this article was published. Follow her on Instagram: @afotogirl. She can be reached at anita.arambula@sduniontribune.com.
