Sopapilla Recipe

Summer. The library. The children's reading program. The $9.50 an hour that teaches me more about patience than any lecture at LSU, because explaining to a six-year-old why the caterpillar ate through all the food requires the same skill set as explaining to a patient why they need to take their medication: clarity, patience, and the willingness to say the same thing four times in different ways until the understanding arrives.

Kayla is preparing to transfer to UL Lafayette for the fall — packing, sorting, having the quiet panic of a person who is about to leave home for real. She asked me this week how I handled moving out. I said, "I cooked." She said, "I don't cook." I said, "Then draw. Whatever the thing is that makes you feel like yourself, do that thing in the new place, and the new place will become home." She looked at me with the particular expression of a younger sister receiving advice she did not ask for but needed, and she said, "That's actually not bad." This is high praise from Kayla. High praise from Kayla is the equivalent of MawMaw Shirley saying "that's right" — it comes rarely, it means everything, and you hold onto it.

I started MCAT prep. The MCAT is in July 2025 — more than a year away — but the exam covers four years of science and the studying cannot begin too early. I bought the review books used online and I have been working through the biology section in the mornings before the library, sitting at the kitchen table at 6 a.m. with coffee and flashcards, the same posture I have had since I was twelve doing homework in a FEMA trailer. The posture does not change. The material changes. The girl changes. The table is the constant.

I made MawMaw Shirley's chicken and sausage gumbo for Sunday dinner — a pot big enough for leftovers, which Mama portioned into containers and put in the freezer with labels (Tanya Robinson and her labeling system, a love language more organized than most religions). The gumbo was right. I did not need anyone to tell me. I stirred for thirty-five minutes and the roux was chocolate and the knowing was mine, alone, and the aloneness of the knowing is the graduation that MawMaw Shirley gave me and that I am still unwrapping, gift by gift, meal by meal.

The gumbo was already done, already portioned and labeled and tucked into the freezer the way Mama does, and there was still warmth in the kitchen and a little quiet left in the evening — the kind of quiet that asks you to stay in it a little longer. Sopapillas are that kind of recipe: uncomplicated, honest, requiring nothing but your hands and a little patience, which I had plenty of left over from the week. I told Kayla that you find home by doing your thing in the new place — and when I need to feel settled, I cook something that puffs up golden and asks nothing complicated of me. That’s what these are.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 15 min | Total Time: 30 min | Servings: 14

Ingredients

2 cups all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1 tbsp vegetable shortening
3/4 cup warm water
Vegetable oil, for frying (about 2 inches deep)
Honey, for serving
Powdered sugar, for dusting (optional)

Instructions

Mix the dry ingredients. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, baking powder, and salt until evenly combined.
Cut in the shortening. Add the shortening and work it into the flour with your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with no large pieces remaining.
Form the dough. Pour in the warm water a little at a time, stirring until a soft dough comes together. Turn it out onto a lightly floured surface and knead gently for 1 to 2 minutes until smooth. Do not overwork it.
Rest the dough. Cover the dough with a clean kitchen towel and let it rest at room temperature for 10 minutes. This relaxes the gluten and makes rolling easier.
Roll and cut. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out to about 1/8-inch thickness. Cut into roughly 3-inch squares or triangles — they don’t need to be perfect.
Heat the oil. Pour vegetable oil into a heavy-bottomed pot or deep skillet to a depth of about 2 inches. Heat over medium-high heat until it reaches 375°F. Use a thermometer if you have one; if not, a small piece of dough should sizzle and rise to the surface within a few seconds.
Fry the sopapillas. Working in batches of 3 to 4, carefully lower the dough pieces into the hot oil. They should puff up within 30 to 60 seconds. Fry for 1 to 2 minutes per side, turning once, until golden brown all over. Adjust the heat as needed to maintain oil temperature.
Drain and serve. Remove with a slotted spoon or spider and drain on a paper towel—lined plate. Serve warm, drizzled generously with honey and dusted with powdered sugar if desired.

Nutrition (per serving)

Sopapilla Recipe — The Simple Thing That Makes a New Place Feel Like Home