Esquites de Sartén

Esquites de Sartén

Esquites de Sartén·(es-KEE-tes de sar-TEN)

La Cena y Antojitos (Late-Night Bites & The Art of the Leftover)

If there is one scent that instantly teleports a first-generation kid back to the plazas of their parents' homeland, it’s the smell of esquites. The beauty of this dish is that the original Nahuatl word literally translates to 'toasted corn.' That means dragging out a cast-iron skillet on a busy Tuesday night isn't some cheap Americanized shortcut—it's a direct connection to the ancient, authentic way to prepare it. Searing the hell out of the corn and hitting it with pungent, earthy epazote recreates the exact sensory magic of a street cart, right in your kitchen.

Ingredients

  • neutral oil1 tbsp
  • unsalted butter2 tbsp
  • white onion1/2 cup
  • garlic cloves2 large
  • fresh serrano peppers2 med
  • corn kernels4 cup
  • kosher salt1/2 tsp
  • fresh epazote sprigs2 small
  • chicken broth1/3 cup
  • mayonnaise1/3 cup
  • Mexican crema1/3 cup
  • Queso Cotija1/2 cup
  • chili powder1 tbsp
  • limes2 med

Method

  1. 01

    Heat the fat and sauté the aromatics.

    Get a heavy cast-iron skillet screaming hot over medium-high heat. Add the neutral oil followed by the butter—the oil raises the smoke point and prevents the milk solids from burning. Once foaming, toss in the diced onion, garlic, and serranos, cooking for a couple of minutes until translucent and immensely fragrant.

  2. 02

    Blister the corn undisturbed.

    Crank the heat to high. Dump in the corn kernels and kosher salt, toss to coat in the seasoned fat, and then step back and leave it entirely alone. Give it two solid minutes untouched to sear and caramelize, then stir once and let it sit another two minutes until deeply charred and popping.

  3. 03

    Steam and infuse the kernels.

    Toss the chopped epazote into the skillet and pour in the chicken broth. Scrape up any browned bits as the liquid hisses and steams, then drop the heat to medium-low, cover the pan, and simmer for 3 to 5 minutes so the corn absorbs the herb's pungent, earthy flavor.

  4. 04

    Reduce the liquid to a glossy glaze.

    Remove the lid and let any remaining moisture cook away for another minute until the corn is tightly coated in the savory fat, then remove from the heat.

  5. 05

    Assemble the cups.

    Scoop the hot corn into individual bowls or small cups. Hit each with a squeeze of fresh lime juice, a dollop of both mayonnaise and crema, a generous handful of crumbled Cotija cheese, and a heavy dusting of chili powder. Mix it all together so every bite is creamy, tangy, and spicy.

Notes

  • Do not substitute cilantro for epazote.

    Epazote is an indigenous herb with an earthy, slightly medicinal bite that is the absolute soul of this dish. Swapping it for cilantro turns this into a generic southwestern salad. Find it fresh in the produce section of a Latin market, or use dried from the spice aisle.

  • Embrace the Maillard reaction.

    American sweet corn has a much higher sugar content than the white field corn used in Mexico. Charring it aggressively in the cast-iron skillet balances that sweetness and replicates the smoky flavor of a traditional street cart.

From Cook Mexican in America.

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