Chicken Tostada Salad

The Brewers clinched the division. I'm going to write that again because I still don't believe it: THE BREWERS CLINCHED THE NL CENTRAL. Wednesday night. I watched the game at Dad's house — the Cape Cod, on the couch, the same couch where we've watched a thousand games and absorbed a thousand disappointments. But not tonight. Tonight, Yelich went 3-for-4 and the Brewers beat the Cardinals and the champagne came out in the clubhouse and Dad stood up and clapped, which is the Tom Kowalski equivalent of doing backflips. Mom came in from the kitchen — she'd been "not watching" while clearly watching — and Dad hugged her. He hugged her. In front of me. In the living room. Over baseball. I took a mental photograph. I made game food: nachos. Not Polish. Not complicated. Just nachos. Tortilla chips, cheddar and pepper jack melted on top, jalapeños, sour cream, salsa, guacamole. Sometimes the moment calls for nachos. This was one of those moments. At the brewery, the mood is electric. Milwaukee is a sports town that's been starved for success — the Packers are the only team that consistently delivers, and even they've been middling lately. Having the Brewers in the playoffs feels like a gift. Marcus — stone-faced, never-gets-excited Marcus — wore a Brewers cap to work on Thursday. I've never seen him wear anything other than a Lakefront Brewery hat. The earth may have shifted on its axis. Outside of baseball hysteria, I've been settling into the assistant brewer role. The biggest change isn't the brewing itself — it's the responsibility. I'm making decisions that affect production, that affect what people drink, that affect the business. Marcus trusts me, which is both flattering and terrifying. "You have good instincts," he told me on Friday. "Trust them." Easier said than done when your instincts are attached to a twenty-one-year-old who was loading kegs two years ago. Started working on a new recipe in my notebook — a pumpkin ale for October. I know, I know. Pumpkin ales are the most basic fall beer on earth. But I want to do it differently — real pumpkin, not extract, roasted with brown sugar and cinnamon, with a spiced porter base instead of the usual pale ale. Something darker. Something that tastes like autumn and not like a Yankee Candle. Marcus said, "If you make a pumpkin ale that doesn't taste like a candle, I'll put a plaque on the wall." Challenge accepted.

Look, I went with nachos that night because nachos are what you make when something enormous just happened and you need food that matches the energy—loud, stacked, unapologetic. The Chicken Tostada Salad is the slightly more pulled-together cousin of what I threw together on Dad’s coffee table: crispy base, melted cheese, jalapeños, sour cream, the whole celebration. If I’d had more than fifteen minutes of non-baseball brain available, this is exactly what I would have made.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

4 tostada shells
2 cups cooked chicken breast, shredded
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon cumin
1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt and black pepper to taste
1 cup shredded cheddar or pepper jack cheese
1 cup shredded romaine lettuce
1/2 cup cherry tomatoes, halved
1/3 cup black beans, rinsed and drained
1/4 cup pickled jalapeños
1/3 cup sour cream
1/3 cup fresh salsa or pico de gallo
1/4 cup guacamole
Fresh cilantro and lime wedges for serving

Instructions

Season the chicken. In a skillet over medium heat, warm olive oil. Add shredded chicken and toss with chili powder, cumin, garlic powder, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper. Cook 4–5 minutes, stirring occasionally, until heated through and lightly crisped at the edges.
Warm the tostadas. Arrange tostada shells on a baking sheet and place under the broiler for 1–2 minutes until warm and extra crispy. Watch them—they go fast.
Add the cheese. Sprinkle shredded cheese over each warm tostada shell and return to the broiler for 30–60 seconds, just until melted.
Build the base. Top each cheesy tostada with a layer of shredded romaine, then spoon the seasoned chicken evenly across all four.
Load the toppings. Divide cherry tomatoes, black beans, and pickled jalapeños over the chicken on each tostada.
Finish and serve. Add dollops of sour cream, salsa, and guacamole. Garnish with fresh cilantro and squeeze lime over the top. Serve immediately while the shells are still crisp.

Nutrition (per serving)

Chicken Tostada Salad — Game Day Crunch for the Greatest Night in Brewers History