Loaded Huevos Rancheros With Roasted Poblano Peppers

October 2033. The 2033 season. We went 5-0 in regular season. Trevon Ashford rushed for 1,847 yards and twenty-three touchdowns. That's a number that requires a moment — one thousand, eight hundred and forty-seven yards. In eleven games. He is a junior. I've been coaching for a long time and I've never had a number like that.

Playoffs came in late October. Quarterfinals we won by three on a field goal Trevon set up with a sixty-two-yard run in the final two minutes. He does things like that. When the game is largest, he is largest. I don't know where that comes from in a person. I've tried to teach it my whole career and I think the honest answer is that you can create conditions for it to emerge but you cannot manufacture it. Either it's in them or it isn't. In Trevon it very clearly is.

Semifinals we won 28-14. The championship is next week. This would be the twelfth.

I've been calling Papá more than usual this fall because he had some health news in September — nothing catastrophic, a heart thing they're monitoring, medication adjusted — but it changed the frequency of my calls. He sounds good on the phone. He's still cooking, still tending the garden, still going to church on Sundays with Mamá. But I heard something different in his voice in September, something quieter, and it reminded me that he is not permanent, that none of us are, and that I should hear his voice as often as I can while I can hear it. He asked about the playoff run. I told him about Trevon. He said: sounds like you have a good one. I said: yes sir, we do.

After I hung up the phone with Papá that evening — him asking about Trevon, me listening hard for whatever that quieter thing was in his voice — I went into the kitchen and made this. He taught me huevos rancheros the summer I turned sixteen, standing over a cast iron skillet in the house I grew up in, roasting the poblanos directly on the gas burner until the whole kitchen smelled like something worth remembering. I don’t make it as often as I should, and I think that’s exactly why I needed to make it that night — because the championship can wait a week, but some things you hold onto now, while you still can.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 4

Ingredients

2 large poblano peppers
1 can (15 oz) black beans, drained and rinsed
1 cup salsa (jarred or homemade)
4 corn tortillas
4 large eggs
1/2 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese
1 avocado, sliced
1/4 cup sour cream
1/4 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
2 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
Salt and black pepper to taste
Hot sauce for serving

Instructions

Roast the poblanos. Place poblano peppers directly over a gas burner flame or under the broiler, turning with tongs every 2–3 minutes, until the skins are charred and blistered on all sides, about 8–10 minutes total. Transfer to a bowl, cover tightly with plastic wrap, and let steam for 10 minutes. Peel away the charred skin, remove the seeds, and dice the peppers into 1/2-inch pieces.
Warm the beans. In a small saucepan over medium heat, combine the black beans, cumin, a pinch of salt, and a few grinds of black pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until heated through, about 3–4 minutes. Use the back of a fork to lightly mash about a third of the beans — this thickens them without losing all the texture. Keep warm on low heat.
Build the roasted poblano salsa. In a separate small saucepan over low heat, combine the salsa and the diced roasted poblano peppers. Stir to combine and let simmer gently for 5 minutes until the flavors meld. Taste and adjust salt. Keep warm.
Toast the tortillas. Heat a dry cast iron skillet or heavy pan over medium-high heat. Toast each corn tortilla for about 60–90 seconds per side until slightly crisped at the edges and warm through. Wrap in a clean kitchen towel to keep warm while you fry the eggs.
Fry the eggs. Add olive oil to the same skillet and heat over medium heat. Crack the eggs in one at a time, spacing them apart. Cook sunny-side up until the whites are fully set but the yolks are still runny, about 3–4 minutes. Season lightly with salt and pepper.
Assemble the plates. Lay one tortilla on each plate. Spoon a generous layer of black beans over the tortilla. Set a fried egg on top. Ladle the roasted poblano salsa over the egg and beans. Sprinkle with Monterey Jack cheese, add a few slices of avocado alongside, drop a dollop of sour cream on top, and finish with fresh cilantro and hot sauce to taste. Serve immediately.

Nutrition (per serving)

Loaded Huevos Rancheros With Roasted Poblano Peppers — The Dish Papá Taught Me to Make When It Matters