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Fast Fiesta Soup — The Pot That Says We Begin Again

January 2020. A new decade. The twenties. I don't know what the twenties will bring — nobody does, which is the defining characteristic of the future: it comes whether you know it or not, and the not-knowing is the only honest relationship a person can have with time.

The bakery is closed for New Year's Day. Only the second time all year. I stayed home. I cleaned the house. I organized the kitchen. I sat at the table with the recipe notebook — one hundred and forty-two entries — and I read them. All of them. From the first (Rosa's flour tortillas) to the most recent (Sofia's pumpkin-spice tres leches). The notebook is a book now, thick with handwriting and corrections and the occasional food stain that serves as a bookmark and a memory. The notebook contains Rosa and Alejandro and Doña Pilar and Doña Mercedes and Señora Perez and every woman who has ever handed me a recipe, and the handing is the chain, and the chain is unbroken, and the unbroken chain is the only permanence I trust.

Luis Jr. called on New Year's Day. He said: "Happy New Year from the sandbox." The sandbox — military slang for the desert, the war zone, the place where my son eats MREs and Rosa's tamales and misses home and doesn't say so because soldiers don't say so. He said: "The tamales arrived. I shared them. My sergeant said they were the best tamales he's ever had. He wants to know if you ship to military addresses." I said: "I ship to any address where my son is." He laughed. The laugh. The constant. The thing the Army cannot change.

I made menudo. The January 1 menudo. The hangover soup for a family that doesn't drink, eaten as ritual, as tradition, as the first food of the new year, the food that says: we begin again. We always begin again. The menudo simmered and the house smelled like hominy and chile and the twenty-twenties began with a pot of tripe soup and a mother on her knees by the bed, praying the rosary, asking for one thing: let him come home. The twenties can bring whatever they want. Just let him come home.

The menudo I made that January morning is the soup I return to every year — but it is not the only soup that carries that same feeling of renewal, of setting something warm on the stove and letting it do its slow, honest work while you catch your breath. This Fast Fiesta Soup captures that same spirit: bright with chiles and broth, substantial enough to ground you, and forgiving enough to come together on a day when you have given most of yourself to other things — prayer, memory, the phone call you were waiting for. I have made versions of this on every hard beginning, and it has never once let me down.

Fast Fiesta Soup

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 25 minutes | Total Time: 35 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 1 lb ground beef (or ground turkey)
  • 1 medium yellow onion, diced
  • 3 cloves garlic, minced
  • 1 packet (1 oz) taco seasoning
  • 1 can (15 oz) black beans, rinsed and drained
  • 1 can (15 oz) pinto beans, rinsed and drained
  • 1 can (15 oz) whole kernel corn, drained
  • 1 can (15 oz) hominy, rinsed and drained
  • 1 can (14.5 oz) diced tomatoes with green chiles
  • 1 can (10 oz) red enchilada sauce
  • 4 cups chicken or beef broth
  • 1 tsp cumin
  • 1/2 tsp smoked paprika
  • Salt and black pepper to taste
  • Sour cream, shredded cheddar, sliced jalapeños, and fresh cilantro for serving

Instructions

  1. Brown the meat. In a large heavy-bottomed pot or Dutch oven, cook the ground beef over medium-high heat, breaking it apart as it browns, about 5–7 minutes. Drain excess fat.
  2. Build the base. Add the diced onion to the pot and cook with the meat for 3 minutes, until softened. Add the garlic and cook 1 minute more, stirring so it does not burn.
  3. Season. Sprinkle in the taco seasoning, cumin, and smoked paprika. Stir well to coat the meat and onion evenly.
  4. Add the remaining ingredients. Pour in the black beans, pinto beans, corn, hominy, diced tomatoes with green chiles, enchilada sauce, and broth. Stir everything together.
  5. Simmer. Bring the soup to a boil, then reduce heat to medium-low and simmer uncovered for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally, until flavors meld and the soup thickens slightly. Season with salt and pepper to taste.
  6. Serve. Ladle into bowls and top with sour cream, shredded cheddar, jalapeño slices, and a handful of fresh cilantro. Warm tortillas alongside are never wrong.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 380 | Protein: 26g | Fat: 11g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 10g | Sodium: 980mg

Maria Elena Gutierrez
About the cook who shared this
Maria Elena Gutierrez
Week 194 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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