One month ago, I was making chilaquiles on a camp stove, overlooking a surf break in Baja. Cobbled together with remnants in our coolers after 6 weeks on the road, it was one of the most delicious and memorable meals of the trip.
It’s amazing how far away the carefree mornings of cooking in a bikini on an empty beach feel now. So much can happen in a month. We didn’t get the chance to “reintegrate,” really. We left our routine of camping on the beach, riding mountain bikes on wild trails and living simply on the road to the uncertainty of a global pandemic. As I strive to finally find some calm amidst this swirl, I’m starting to truly process this life-changing trip.
And the reason was so simple: we wanted for nothing more elaborate, more certain, more precious than each other, a road we could navigate together, and the promise of a hot meal.
No moment, opportunity, or precious bit of beauty went to waste on us during the trip. And the contents of the cooler were no exception.
The chilaquiles I’ve enjoyed in Mexico are simple; comprised of tortilla chips smothered in refried beans and a canned red chile sauce. But we didn’t have any cans on the beach that morning, and yet we already had everything we needed; the imperfect ingredients we had leftover by happenstance.
The cooler contained a pint of perky little tomatoes and a handful of tiny crookneck squash from the previous weeks’ market. There were a two nopales paddles I couldn’t resist bringing home, having watched a woman cleaning them of their needles. Plus a splash of coconut milk and the crumbles of chips with nothing to dip them in. We cooked it all down to perfection, using flavors and textures from memory to make something new. It was perfect.
And I knew we had half a bag of tortilla chips begging to be crumbled and sauced; both signs that we were due for chilaquiles. So, I whipped them up as a lazy, special breakfast for a Sunday morning. It was so good, sitting in the sunshine at our dining table, the smells of the ingredients mingling with newspaper ink and coffee grounds. Even in this swirling dust storm of the unknown, we’re all facing, we didn’t want for anything, even in a storm of uncertainty.
The idea that something so excellent came from near-wilty leftovers, otherwise easily discarded, is the highlight of our beachside chilequiles meal. The simple goal of taking what you have and making it awesome, is the ingredient that will make your chilaquiles perfection, no matter where you enjoy them.
Flavors are FUN, yes, but they also are the mechanisms by which our bodies nourish themselves. Flavors basically tell our bodies what the food is giving us – on a nutritional and energetic level. Our bodies then prepare enzymes to break those components down, assimilate them, and turn them into fuel for our vibrant lives. We can’t eat just one flavor and get all of the things we need, so learning to track the flavors in our foods helps us to be sure that we’re really getting all of the things we need in our meals. This particular recipe has all six flavors. The more flavors we can enjoy in any meal or food, the happier and more balanced our bodies will be. If you’re wanting to learn more about how the flavors we eat fuel our bodies – energetically and nutritively, check out this little blog post.
So long as you have stale chips, you have everything.
Warm a large skillet over medium-high heat. When a drizzle of water dropped in the skillet sizzles, add avocado oil and swirl the pan to coat.
Add the onion to the pan, and sweat until translucent. Roughly 4-5 minutes.
Add the carrot, stirring to incorporate. Season with salt and cook until the carrot is just tender.
Next, add the jalapeno, nopal and zucchini, again stirring to incorporate. Cook until the zucchini is just tender.
Add the tomatoes. If using fresh tomatoes, you’ll want to cook down the tomatoes until they burst and start to make a sort of sauce. If using crushed, you’ll add the tomatoes and all of the juices and cook until the liquid reduces and the vegetable mixture starts to be more chunky than watery. (Roughly 6-8 minutes.)
Add the coconut milk. Stir to combine, then taste the sauce to be sure its salty and peppery to your liking. Add more seasoning if you wish. Lower the heat to medium-low.
In a separate, smaller skillet warm a touch of ghee or avocado oil to fry your eggs. Cook them to your liking (I like them sunny side up in ghee.)
While the eggs are frying, add your tortilla chips to the veggie mixture, stirring to incorporate the chips completely.
Divide the chilaquiles mixture between plates, top with 1-2 fried eggs.
Garnish with avocado, crema, pepitas, black beans, radishes, cilantro, hot sauce and anything else your heart desires.