
It starts with chiles. "Ancho" chiles, or "Red New Mexico" chiles. Not -- NOT EVER -- Habaneros. There is a parable of Reading The Ingredient List Carefully that Sunbeam would probably prefer I not share with you here. I bought these Anchos at Whole Foods. You can buy them online, too. I've always worked with dry ones that are hard and crackly. These were chewy, like raisins. I modified the recipe a little because of it.

Remove the stems, the white pithy ribs, the seeds. Even Ancho chiles are hot, and the oils in them burn. Use gloves. Or don't, but then PLEASE for the love of all that is decent do not touch your eyes. There's a parable there, too, but it wasn't Sunbeam and it wasn't eyes, and I try really hard not to go there on this blog.

Two large, juicy garlic cloves. Toast over medium heat in corn or canola or vegetable oil. By using the whole clove you can toast without burning. I cook this meal whenever the house feels stale and overused. I clean, and then I toast garlic and chiles. It's like redecorating.

When the garlic is starting to brown, add chopped onion, cumin, powdered oregano, and the chiles. Sorry about the crappy picture.

Add liquid. Okay, here's where you have to live with that I'm not a professional: you want to add enough to cover without making it watery. You can add water or broth, and then a good solid dose of plain, low-salt, unseasoned tomato sauce. I say start with small amounts and work your way up. You can always simmer to reduce and thicken, so don't freak if you added too much. (I added about a half cup of water and a twelve-ounce can of sauce, but it's different with every batch. Play with it.)

I love this gizmo. It's a hand blender. About $19 bucks at Wal-Mart. After the sauce is hot and bubbling and the chiles are fall-apart soft, blend everything until it's smooth. If the chiles were crispy rather than raisiny to start, you'll want to strain this before you serve it because it will be grainy. Just pour it through a strainer and use a spoon to press the sauce through. Discard the pasty red stuff that's left behind. Either way, after you've blended, set it back on the stove to simmer. The longer it simmers, the better it tastes. Add salt, pepper, a splash of cider vinegar, and more cumin and oregano, as neccessary. You can add more tomato, too.
Okay, I have no picture for this part. I think I was getting mindless with hunger. Make beans.
I usually make mine from scratch, but in the summer I am not simmering frijoles in that kitchen. So I cracked open a can of frijoles negros — I prefer the least sodium ones I can find — and I rinsed them. I chopped onion and garlic, sauted until transulcent. Add cumin and powdered oregano, stir until it’s browning but not burning. Add the beans and then a little liquid — water, broth, beer, whatever. Simmer over medium heat, adding more liquid as is needed. Salt and pepper to taste.
Then do your eggs.

This is the way my Mexican family cooked eggs. You crack them into a custard dish, first, to keep the yolks intact. Then you slip the eggs into about an inch of hot oil. Spoon hot oil over the top to make sure you cook the whites. Remove the egg when the whites are set and the yolk is still liquidy. Use a slotted spoon and set it on paper towels to drain excess oil. Cook the eggs and then at the end, cook the corn tortillas. One at a time, a few seconds until they're soft with crisp edges. Drain on paper towels.

Assemble: Pat the tortilla with paper towel to remove excess oil. Set it on the plate and top with frijoles. Set egg on top. Secret touch -- sprinkle a little salt and pepper directly on top of the egg at this step. Then cover with sauce.

See that? The yolk? How it's all creamy and running into the chile and tomato? It's salted too, remember how you did that before you sauced it? Add a little of the beans, and a bite of that crispy corn tortilla. That's right, get all of that on the fork, good. Have a cold beer-- a Dos Equis is perfect. Or? -- Hot, dark coffee. Try not to lick the plate.



































