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Sopes with Shredded Chicken -- Making Room in the Notebook for My Own Recipes Too

Sofia designed the new menu board. She spent three evenings working on it — chalk markers on a blackboard she bought at Hobby Lobby for twelve dollars, which I consider the best twelve-dollar investment in bakery history. She drew conchas in the margins, little coffee cups next to the drink prices, a border of marigolds along the top that she said was "for Abuela." The lettering is clean, readable, artistic — miles better than my handwriting. She hung it behind the register and I stood back and looked at it and saw not a menu board but a declaration: this bakery belongs to the next generation. Sofia is twelve in July. She is already changing the walls.

Luis Jr. is training for the Army. Not officially — he is sixteen and won't enlist for two more years — but he is training. Push-ups in the garage. Running in the morning before school. He asked Luis to buy him a pull-up bar and Luis did, without consulting me, which is how decisions about pull-up bars happen in this house: the men decide and the women find out when they walk into the garage and there is a bar bolted to the door frame. I said nothing. I will say nothing. The pull-up bar is not the battle. The battle is in two years, when he signs the papers, and I am saving my words for that.

Isabella has started teaching Camila to read. Not because anyone asked her to — no one asks Isabella to do anything, she simply identifies needs and fills them the way water fills a glass — but because Camila is four (almost five in October) and pre-K is teaching letters but not reading, and Isabella has decided that her baby sister will read early because Isabella read early and reading early is Isabella's definition of success. They sit on the couch after school — Isabella with a picture book, Camila on her lap — and Isabella points at words and Camila sounds them out and the sound of a four-year-old sounding out "cat" and "dog" and "the" is the sound of hope, which is quieter than you'd think.

I made sopes this week — thick corn masa rounds, fried until crispy on the edges, topped with refried beans, shredded chicken, lettuce, crema, and queso fresco. Sopes are street food — the food of pushcarts and weekend markets and the kind of vendors who stand on corners in Juárez and serve the most perfect food from the most imperfect kitchens. Rosa never made sopes. She was a tortilla woman, a flour woman, a Chihuahua woman, and sopes are central Mexico. But I make them because I am not only Rosa — I am also Maria Elena, and Maria Elena learned from other women, other kitchens, other corners, and the notebook can hold Rosa's recipes and my recipes too. There is room.

The bakery's Instagram account has forty-seven followers after one week. Sofia runs it. She takes photographs of the conchas with morning light slanting through the bakery window, and the photographs are beautiful — warm and golden and appetizing — and I asked her how she learned to take photographs and she said, "It's just framing, Mamá. Like framing a concha on a tray. You put the pretty part in the center." She is eleven and she understands composition better than most photographers and I am starting to think that Sofia doesn't just want to run a bakery — she wants to build a brand. I don't know what a brand is but Sofia does and that is enough.

That week, with Sofia’s photographs and all their golden light, I kept thinking about the sopes I had mentioned — how I had promised them and not yet delivered. There is something about sopes that feels like proof: proof that I learned, that I carried something forward, that there is room in the notebook for more than one woman’s handwriting. So I made them, the way I make them — not Rosa’s way, not any single woman’s way, but the way that became mine across many kitchens and many years.

Sopes with Shredded Chicken

Prep Time: 30 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 55 min | Servings: 6 (2 sopes each)

Ingredients

  • For the masa:
  • 2 cups masa harina (such as Maseca)
  • 1 1/2 cups warm water, plus more as needed
  • 1/2 teaspoon salt
  • 2 tablespoons vegetable oil, for frying
  • For the shredded chicken:
  • 1 1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breast or thighs
  • 1/2 white onion, halved
  • 2 garlic cloves
  • 1 teaspoon salt
  • 1/2 teaspoon cumin
  • For the toppings:
  • 1 1/2 cups refried beans, warmed (canned or homemade)
  • 2 cups shredded romaine or iceberg lettuce
  • 1/2 cup Mexican crema (or sour cream thinned with a splash of milk)
  • 3/4 cup crumbled queso fresco
  • 1/2 cup salsa verde or roja, for serving
  • Sliced radishes and pickled jalapeños, optional

Instructions

  1. Simmer the chicken. Place chicken, onion, garlic, salt, and cumin in a medium saucepan. Cover with water by 2 inches and bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer 18–20 minutes, until chicken is cooked through. Remove chicken and let cool slightly, then shred with two forks. Reserve the broth for another use.
  2. Make the masa dough. In a large bowl, combine masa harina and salt. Gradually add warm water, mixing with your hands until a soft, pliable dough forms—it should not crack at the edges when pressed but should not stick to your palms. Add water one tablespoon at a time if needed.
  3. Form the sopes. Divide dough into 12 equal balls, roughly the size of a golf ball. Press each ball between two sheets of plastic wrap (or a folded zip-lock bag) using a tortilla press or the bottom of a heavy pan until about 1/4 inch thick and 3 inches across. They should be thicker than a tortilla.
  4. Cook the sopes on the griddle. Heat a dry comal or cast iron skillet over medium-high heat. Cook each masa round 2 minutes per side, until lightly speckled and just set. They will not be fully cooked through at this stage—that is correct.
  5. Pinch the edges. While each sope is still warm and pliable, use your thumb and forefinger to pinch up a small rim around the edge, creating a shallow wall to hold the toppings. Work quickly; they firm up as they cool.
  6. Fry until crispy. In a wide skillet, heat vegetable oil over medium-high heat until shimmering. Fry sopes in batches, 2–3 minutes per side, until the edges are golden and crispy and the bottom is firm. Transfer to a paper-towel-lined plate.
  7. Assemble and serve. Spread a generous spoonful of warmed refried beans onto each sope. Top with a mound of shredded chicken, a pinch of lettuce, a drizzle of crema, and a crumble of queso fresco. Add salsa, radishes, and jalapeños as desired. Serve immediately while the edges are still crisp.

Nutrition (per serving — 2 sopes)

Calories: 410 | Protein: 31g | Fat: 14g | Carbs: 38g | Fiber: 5g | Sodium: 620mg

Maria Elena Gutierrez
About the cook who shared this
Maria Elena Gutierrez
Week 44 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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