MEXICO CITY — To understand how important soups are to lunch tables in Mexico City, it helps to visit a fonda. These everyday dining establishments are a cross between sit-down restaurants and street-food stalls, and there are literally tens of thousands of them in every neighborhood.
One such place, Fonda Baños Señorial, happens to be located a few doors from my home in the downtown part of the city. I frequent it often for its satisfying four-course lunches, which run just under $5 — can’t beat that! I also go because when I’m there, I feel like I’m not in a restaurant but in someone’s cozy home.
Credit: James Roper
Credit: James Roper
On one end of the living-room-size space is the stove, overseen by a couple of busy cooks and the patrona, Señora Norma. She is a figure with immaculately coiffed hair who issues brisk instructions to the staff, but she is more than welcoming with customers. As I sat down at a table one afternoon, she uttered the best words I’d heard all day: “James, what do you want for your soup course?”
The day’s offerings, she said, were consommé de pollo (chicken and vegetable soup) or sopa de lentejas (lentil soup). Both sounded appealing, but I was exceptionally hungry, so I opted for the chicken soup. She dispatched the order, and moments later a steaming soup bowl of arrived, overflowing with tender chunks of chayote and carrots.
Credit: James Roper
Credit: James Roper
Mexico City’s diners don’t simply top their soups with a shy dash of pepper, as is generally the case in the U.S. — they zest them up with a kaleidoscope of garnishes. From a plate containing toppings, I added to my soup chopped white onions, cilantro, jalapenos, and avocado. Next, I squeezed in the juice of half a small lime, and, lastly, added a dollop of house-made tomatillo salsa. I gave the soup a good stir and took a sip.
It was breathtaking, each spoonful marrying the bright-tasting garnishes with the nuanced, silky broth. Throughout the fonda, customers were also digging into their soups — so popular is this particular course that lunch is basically unthinkable without it. At the counter, a gentleman in a Stetson rolled up a hot tortilla and dipped it into his lentil soup with satisfaction.
What gives Mexican soups their soul? I pondered as I polished off my bowl.
Credit: James Roper
Credit: James Roper
In an attempt to learn more, I invited into my kitchen Brenda Nieto and Esther Guzman, two Mexico City residents that I develop recipes with, for an afternoon of soup conjuring. Each of us would cook a different but traditional local soup.
Brenda, a young mom, wanted the task of cooking a homey variety rarely known outside its natural habitat, fava beans with cactus. In this popular soup, dried yellow fava beans, an ingredient likely introduced to Mexico City by Middle Eastern immigrants, are cooked with tomatoes, fresh mint and cactus, a staple vegetable with a tangy taste and an okra-like consistency.
“I’m always trying to get my 5-year-old to eat her vegetables — and cactus is definitely not one of her favorites,” Brenda said with a laugh. “Maybe if I replace it with green beans, I’ll make some progress.”
The results, the three of us concurred, were excellent — Brenda promised she’d let us know later if her daughter approved. Beyond that, we loved the substitution of the green beans, and the fava beans had a comforting, split pea-like consistency with a marvelously earthy flavor.
Meanwhile, Esther, a woman in her 40s who lives with her extended family, went about sauteing in olive oil a head and a half’s worth of rough-chopped garlic as the first step in making garlic soup, her chosen dish. The tantalizing aroma of the garlic as it transformed from raw and sharp to sweet and golden filled the kitchen. As Esther blended the cooked garlic with the other ingredients — including chicken broth and paprika — she commented on how easy it was to make.
“For such a simple process,” she said, “you really get complex flavor.”
We sampled the finished soup, its glossy surface now elegantly garnished with a manchego-and-baguette crouton, and decided that it was the perfect repast for a chilly afternoon. Sure, the garnish was arguably a case of gilding the lily — but why the heck not, we all agreed.
My challenge that day was to concoct caldo de pollo, Mexico City’s answer to chicken in a pot. Like Esther’s soup, this one couldn’t have been easier to prepare. I placed into a stockpot nearly all the ingredients: chicken cut into serving pieces, water, white onion, garlic cloves, bay leaves, whole allspice berries, and cilantro and mint sprigs.
What I began to understand as the dish burbled along for the next hour or so was that patience was key. I sniffed and stirred it frequently, marveling as the broth matured and grew increasingly aromatic. After the chicken was nearly cooked, I added a few handfuls of carrots and chayotes cut into rustic pieces.
Later, after all the requisite garnishes were added to our bowls, the three of us tried the soup. With all due respect to Señora Norma and her fine rendition of it, the soup was every bit as magical and satisfying.
James Oseland is the author and editor of “World Food: Mexico City,” part of a new book series from Ten Speed Press. For more information, visit jamesoseland.com; follow @jamesoseland on Instagram.
RECIPES
Mexico City’s diners don’t simply top their soups with a shy dash of pepper, as is generally the case in the U.S. — they zest them up with a kaleidoscope of garnishes.
Credit: James Roper
Credit: James Roper
Fava Bean and Nopales Soup
In this comforting soup, mint, a traditional Mexican companion to fava beans, adds herbal nuance. If you can’t find fresh nopales (cactus paddle), coarsely chopped green beans can be substituted. A recipe for a traditional pasilla chile garnish follows the main recipe.
Credit: James Roper
Credit: James Roper
Pasilla Chile Garnish
Pasilla chiles are earthy-tasting, faintly piquant dried Mexican chiles about the length of your hand. Lightly pan-frying pasillas transforms them into a delightful, crunchy garnish; the whole, fried chiles are often placed on a plate at the center of the table so diners can tear a few pieces and add them directly to their soup (or other dishes, like scrambled eggs). To make them, line a plate with a paper towel. Heat a skillet over medium heat. When the pan is hot, add 3 tablespoons canola oil. When the oil is hot, add 2 to 4 chiles and fry on all sides until they are slightly puffy and about 2 shades darker, about 3 minutes total. Transfer to the lined plate. Invite diners to break the whole chiles, seeds and all, into small pieces directly into their soup. Leftovers can be stored in a plastic container for a week.
Credit: James Roper
Credit: James Roper
Cantina-Style Garlic Soup
This zesty and comforting soup, perfect for a chilly afternoon, is a Mexico City cantina classic for good reason: It pairs well with beer, tequila, mezcal or a tannic white wine.
Credit: James Roper
Credit: James Roper
Mexican-Style Chicken and Vegetable Soup
A homey weeknight classic that gets its verve from whole allspice and cilantro and mint sprigs. The garnishes that appear after the main recipe aren’t essential but will result in a dish that tastes truly Mexican; the garnishes can be mixed and matched as desired.
Traditional Garnishes
Serve this soup with the following garnishes, which can be placed in individual bowls on your serving table, if desired: 1 cup minced white onion; 1/2 cup minced stemmed jalapenos (unseeded if you crave chile heat); 1 cup minced cilantro leaves and stems; 1 cup coarsely chopped avocado; fresh-made salsa to your liking; a few halved limes for squeezing on top.
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