Acapulco Delight

September 15. Rosa's third death anniversary. The weight of the date has company this year: Javier (the nephew, killed in July), and Luis Jr. (deployed, somewhere I cannot name, doing things I cannot know). Three absences at the table on the day that is already the heaviest day in my calendar. The candles at St. Patrick's: Rosa, Alejandro, Javier the brother, Javier the nephew, and now a candle for Luis Jr. — not for the dead but for the living, for the son who is far, for the safe-return prayer that I add to the rosary every night between the Hail Mary and the Our Father.

Five candles. The altar grows. The flames lean and flicker and the church is quiet and I am on my knees and the stone is cold and I am praying for the dead and the living and the difference between them is a heartbeat, one heartbeat, and the heartbeat is the only thing that separates the candles for the dead from the candle for my son, and the heartbeat is strong, I tell myself, the heartbeat is trained and muscled and military and strong, and the strong heartbeat will come home.

Sofia made the ofrenda at the bakery. Four faces now: Rosa, Alejandro, Javier the brother, Javier the nephew. She added the nephew's photograph — a picture from Facebook, printed, young and smiling and alive in the way photographs preserve life, freezing the living moment in paper and ink. The ofrenda is crowded. The altar of the dead in my bakery has four faces and each face is someone I loved and each face is someone the world took, and the taking is the tax on being alive in a family that comes from Anapra, where the tax rate is higher than anywhere in the world.

I made chile colorado. The annual. The always. The recipe that is September 15 the way midnight is New Year's Eve. I made it and I ate it and it tasted like Rosa and like every September 15 that has come before and every September 15 that will come after, and the taste does not change, and the not-changing is the promise, and the promise is kept, and the keeping is all I can do and all I need to do, and it is enough.

I have made this every September 15 since Rosa died, and I will make it every September 15 until I cannot stand at a stove anymore. It is not the most complicated thing I cook—it is not meant to be. It is meant to be the same. The layering, the red chile, the low heat, the long wait: these are not steps in a recipe, they are the motions of remembering. If you have your own date that sits heavy on the calendar, make this on that date. Make it the same way every time. Let the sameness be the thing that holds.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 1 hr 15 min | Total Time: 1 hr 40 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs beef chuck, cut into 1-inch cubes
6 dried guajillo chiles, stemmed and seeded
3 dried ancho chiles, stemmed and seeded
4 cloves garlic, divided
1 medium white onion, half roughly chopped, half thinly sliced
1 tsp ground cumin
1 tsp dried oregano (Mexican oregano preferred)
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 1/2 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
2 tbsp vegetable oil
1 1/2 cups beef broth
1 can (15 oz) refried beans
1 cup shredded Oaxaca or Monterey Jack cheese
1/2 cup sour cream, for serving
Fresh cilantro and sliced radishes, for garnish
Warm flour or corn tortillas, for serving

Instructions

Rehydrate the chiles. Place the guajillo and ancho chiles in a medium saucepan and cover with 3 cups of water. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat, then remove from heat and let soak for 20 minutes until softened.
Blend the chile sauce. Transfer the soaked chiles and 1 cup of their soaking liquid to a blender. Add 2 cloves of garlic, the roughly chopped onion, cumin, oregano, and 1 tsp salt. Blend until completely smooth. Press through a fine-mesh strainer and discard solids.
Sear the beef. Pat the beef cubes dry and season with 1/2 tsp salt and the black pepper. Heat vegetable oil in a heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Working in batches, sear the beef on all sides until deeply browned, about 3–4 minutes per side. Transfer to a plate.
Build the braise. Reduce heat to medium. Add the sliced onion and remaining 2 garlic cloves to the pot and cook, stirring, for 3 minutes until softened. Pour in the strained chile sauce and cook, stirring frequently, for 5 minutes until it darkens slightly and coats the bottom of the pot.
Simmer low and slow. Return the seared beef to the pot along with the beef broth. Stir to combine, bring to a gentle simmer, cover, and cook over low heat for 50–60 minutes, until the beef is fork-tender and the sauce has thickened and coated the meat. Taste and adjust salt.
Layer the dish. In a large oven-safe baking dish, spread the refried beans in an even layer across the bottom. Spoon the braised beef and chile sauce over the beans. Top evenly with the shredded cheese.
Broil and finish. Place the baking dish under the broiler on high for 3–5 minutes until the cheese is melted, bubbling, and lightly golden. Watch closely.
Serve. Garnish with sour cream, fresh cilantro, and sliced radishes. Serve immediately with warm tortillas.

Nutrition (per serving)

Acapulco Delight — The Recipe That Is September 15