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Chile Verde -- The Full Spectrum of Living Between Two Traditions

One hundred degrees. One hundred and two. One hundred and four. August in El Paso is the month God forgot to air-condition. The bakery kitchen reaches temperatures that should require a hazard warning, and I stand in it for ten hours a day and make bread, and the bread rises faster in the heat, which is the only upside of August — the yeast is happy. I am not happy. The yeast is happy.

Back-to-school shopping. Again. The annual exercise in financial gymnastics: five children, four schools, an infinite list of supplies, and a finite wallet. This year the total was four hundred and eighty dollars, which is sixty-eight more than last year because children grow and growth is expensive and no one warned me that the cost of raising children is measured not in love but in shoe sizes. Luis Jr. needs size thirteen shoes now. Size thirteen. His feet are their own neighborhood.

Sofia announced that she wants to create a bakery website. A website. She is twelve and she wants to build a website for the bakery, with a menu, online ordering, and a "story" page that tells Rosa's history and the bakery's history and my history. I said: "Do you know how to build a website?" She said: "YouTube." Everything is YouTube. The entire next generation of human knowledge is being transmitted through YouTube, and I am simultaneously grateful for it and terrified of it.

I made chile verde this week — pork shoulder stewed in tomatillo salsa with green chiles and cumin and oregano, served with rice and tortillas and topped with sour cream. Chile verde is fall food even though it's still summer, because the tomatillos are ripe and the green chiles are at the farm stands and the convergence of ingredients creates the dish, not the calendar. Rosa didn't make chile verde — she made chile colorado, always colorado, always red, because Chihuahua is red chile country and green is for the south. But I live on the border, and the border has both, and I make both, and the kitchen holds both, and that is the gift of living between two traditions: you get the full spectrum.

Diego came home from STEM camp on the last day with a certificate of completion and a small robot he programmed to follow a line on the floor. He put the robot on the kitchen floor and it followed a line he drew with tape, and Camila chased it, and the robot was faster than Camila, which is saying something because Camila moves at the speed of chaos. He said, "Next year I want to build a bigger one." I said, "How big?" He said, "Big enough to deliver conchas." I said: "Mijo, you just invented the future of the bakery." He didn't know I was serious. I was completely serious.

So yes, I made chile verde in August, in a kitchen that was already a hundred and four degrees, because the tomatillos and green chiles were at the farm stand and you don’t argue with what’s ripe. Rosa would have shaken her head—she was colorado through and through—but this is my kitchen now, and my kitchen holds both. Here’s the recipe, for anyone else who believes the ingredients decide the calendar.

Chile Verde

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 45 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 5 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 1/2 pounds pork shoulder, cut into 1-inch cubes
  • 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
  • 1 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/2 teaspoon black pepper
  • 1 pound tomatillos, husked and rinsed
  • 4 poblano peppers
  • 2 Anaheim or Hatch green chiles
  • 2 jalapeño peppers
  • 1 medium white onion, quartered
  • 5 cloves garlic, peeled
  • 1 cup chicken broth
  • 1 teaspoon ground cumin
  • 1 teaspoon dried Mexican oregano
  • 1/2 cup fresh cilantro, chopped
  • 1 tablespoon fresh lime juice
  • Sour cream, for serving
  • Warm rice and flour tortillas, for serving

Instructions

  1. Roast the vegetables. Set the oven broiler to high. Place tomatillos, poblanos, Anaheim chiles, jalapeños, and onion quarters on a rimmed baking sheet. Broil 5 to 7 minutes per side until charred and blistered. Let the peppers steam in a covered bowl for 10 minutes, then peel, seed, and roughly chop them.
  2. Blend the salsa verde. Add the roasted tomatillos, roasted peppers, onion, garlic, chicken broth, and cilantro to a blender. Pulse until you have a chunky sauce—not perfectly smooth. Set aside.
  3. Brown the pork. Pat the pork cubes dry and season with salt and pepper. Heat vegetable oil in a large Dutch oven or heavy pot over medium-high heat. Working in batches so you don’t crowd the pan, brown the pork on all sides, about 3 to 4 minutes per batch. Transfer browned pork to a plate.
  4. Simmer the stew. Return all the pork to the pot. Pour the blended salsa verde over the meat. Stir in the cumin and oregano. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to low, cover, and simmer for 1 1/2 hours, stirring occasionally, until the pork is fork-tender and the sauce has thickened.
  5. Finish and serve. Stir in the lime juice and taste for salt. Serve over warm rice with flour tortillas and a generous spoonful of sour cream on top.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 385 | Protein: 38g | Fat: 19g | Carbs: 14g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 620mg

Maria Elena Gutierrez
About the cook who shared this
Maria Elena Gutierrez
Week 71 of Maria Elena’s 30-year story · El Paso, Texas
Maria Elena was born in Ciudad Juárez, crossed the border at twenty with nothing but her mother's recipes in her head, and built a life in El Paso one tortilla at a time. She owns Panadería Rosa, a tiny bakery named after the mother who taught her that cooking is prayer and waste is sin. She has five children, a husband who chose the family over the beer, and a stack of handwritten recipes that she guards like sacred text — because they are.

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