Cheesy Jalapeño Popper Chicken Taquitos

Mid-October. The election is two weeks away. I do not write about politics in the way that some people write about politics — with certainty and volume and the conviction that their opinion is the correct one — but I will say this: I am a Puerto Rican woman who has lived on the mainland for thirty-two years and who watched her island be destroyed by a hurricane and then abandoned by a government that should have done better, and that experience shapes how I vote. The voting is not abstract for me. The voting is personal. The voting is María. The voting is the eleven days of silence when I did not know if my mother was alive. I vote with the memory of those eleven days in my body, and the body does not forget.

At the hospital, the pre-election anxiety is palpable — the staff divided and tense, the cafeteria conversations sharper, the country's fractures visible in the break room where people eat my food and argue about things that are beyond my control but not beyond my care. I do not take sides in the cafeteria. I serve everyone. The pernil does not discriminate. The soup does not have a political affiliation. The food is for everyone, and the everyone is the whole point, and if the country could learn what the cafeteria already knows — that a table is a table and a meal is a meal and the person across from you is a person — the country would be better. This is not a political statement. This is a cooking statement. They are the same thing.

I made pasteles en hoja — a smaller version of the Christmas pasteles, wrapped in banana leaves, but these are just for the house, just for now, because the election is stressful and the pandemic is stressful and when the stress accumulates I go to the kitchen and I make the thing that is most labor-intensive and most Puerto Rican because the labor is meditation and the Puerto Rican-ness is armor. Twelve pasteles. Mami got two. She ate them slowly. She did not comment. She did not need to.

I could not bring pasteles en hoja to the cafeteria — twelve is twelve, and twelve belongs to the house, belongs to Mami, belongs to the eleven days I carry in my body. But the act of wrapping, rolling, sealing something with your hands — that is the thing I needed more than the recipe itself, and these taquitos give me that same meditation: the filling, the fold, the press, the pan, the heat. They are not Puerto Rican. They do not pretend to be. But they are labor, and the labor is the point, and when I brought a tray to the break room the week before the election, people stopped arguing long enough to eat them, and that is a small miracle, and I will take every small miracle I can get.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 20 minutes | Total Time: 40 minutes | Servings: 12 taquitos

Ingredients

2 cups cooked chicken, shredded
8 oz cream cheese, softened
1 cup shredded sharp cheddar cheese
1/2 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese
3–4 jalapeños, seeded and finely diced (leave seeds in for more heat)
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1 teaspoon onion powder
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
12 small (6-inch) flour tortillas
2 tablespoons neutral oil or cooking spray, for the pan
Sour cream, salsa, or guacamole, for serving

Instructions

Make the filling. In a large bowl, combine the softened cream cheese, shredded chicken, cheddar, Monterey Jack, diced jalapeños, garlic powder, onion powder, smoked paprika, cumin, salt, and pepper. Mix until fully combined and the cream cheese is evenly distributed throughout.
Warm the tortillas. Working in batches, warm the tortillas in a dry skillet over medium heat for 20–30 seconds per side, or wrap the stack in a damp paper towel and microwave for 30 seconds. Warm tortillas roll without cracking.
Fill and roll. Lay a tortilla flat. Spoon 2–3 tablespoons of filling in a line across the lower third of the tortilla. Roll tightly from the bottom up and place seam-side down on a plate. Repeat with remaining tortillas and filling.
Pan-fry the taquitos. Heat 2 tablespoons of oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Working in batches, place taquitos seam-side down in the hot oil. Cook for 2–3 minutes per side, turning carefully with tongs, until golden brown and crispy all around. Do not crowd the pan.
Drain and rest. Transfer finished taquitos to a paper-towel-lined plate or wire rack. Let rest for 2 minutes before serving so the cheese filling sets slightly.
Serve. Arrange on a platter and serve immediately with sour cream, salsa, and guacamole alongside for dipping.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cheesy Jalapeño Popper Chicken Taquitos — The Labor Is the Love, and the Love Is the Armor