Slow Cooker Tortilla Soup
2 cans diced tomatoes
1 box low sodium chicken broth
1 carrot, rough cut
1 onion, rough cut
1 anaheim pepper, rough cut
juice of 1 lime
4 bay leaves
1 yellow squash, rough cut
4 cloves of garlic, rough cut
1 tbsp cumin
2 tsp coriander seeds
1/2 bunch cilantro, rough cut
2 dried smoky peppers of your choice or 2 chipotle peppers, destemmed, from a can
2 pounds boneless skinless chicken thighs
1 pasilla pepper, julienned
1 can black beans, rinsed
1 1/2 cups frozen corn
2 tortillas cut into strips
salt, to taste
Add the tomatoes, chicken broth, carrot, onion anaheim pepper, squash, garlic, cumin, coriander, lime juice, bay leaves, cilantro, smoky peppers and a large pinch of salt to slow cooker.
Season chicken with a hefty smattering of salt. In a skillet, heat 1 tbsp oil. Place chicken skin down in the pan and cook until browned, about 4 minutes. Flip chicken and cook for another 30 seconds. Do not overcrowd the pan- do this in batches if you need to. Put the thighs straight into the slow cooker along with your broth. Set cooker on low for 8-10 hours or overnight.
Next day: using a slotted spoon, fish out your chicken thighs from the broth. They will be very tender, but shouldn't have totally fallen apart. Set them on a plate to cool.
Using an immersion blender, blend the broth mixture until fairly smooth. This is really a personal preference so use your best chef judgement.
Heat up 1 tbsp oil in a pan. Saute pasilla peppers on high until they've gotten a little char on them, about 5 minutes. Add them, the corn and the black beans to the soup.
Using 2 forks or your hands, pull apart the chicken thighs. They should be shred-y but still have some substance to them. Add them to your soup.
Allow the mixture to cook on low for another 30 minutes, during which time you can toast your tortilla strips in the oven.
Serve with sour cream, cilantro, tortilla strips, hot sauce, more lime or whatever else you love serving with tortilla soup. If you have some tepache on hand, adding a little splash into the soup is pure delight and i can guarantee you won't be mad at me for giving you that tip.
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there is a pile of jackets and gloves and shoes reinforced with down lining just as you walk into my way-too-small studio apartment. it will inhabit that space for the next few months, while my cute dresses and that fun tank top with the cherries on it will get pushed to the far reaches of my bottom drawer. the weather outside is bitter cold, the kind that starts to tickle your nostrils before freezing them entirely, during which time your lips have already begun to turn blue.
i stare out at the mountains, bracing for summertime when i can fill up a water bottle and embark on some really stupid hike that is punishingly difficult for a quick day trip. i'll charge uphill as fast as possible, breathing steadily and barely stopping; i'll reach the summit and listen to the wind whipping at the hood of my jacket near my ears, taking in the craggy emptiness; i'll run down the mountain like i'm searching for help; i'll arrive at my car and stretch, change into my sandals and eat a package of tuna and maybe drink a beer if i have one in my trunk. i do activities like this mostly so i can justify the Hungry Man appetite i have most days.
however, it is winter, i am less active and still just as hungry.
just last week i was on the outskirts of houston, watching razorback football and eating crawfish on a patio, sweating partially from the clinging humidity at 85 degrees and partially from the biting spice that the crawfish had been tossed in. there are those people that hate the humidity: the ones that have been raised in it and can't stand it anymore or those who have lived in desert landscapes their whole lives and whose skin is cactus-prickly against the oven dry sun. i thought for a long time that i was the former, hatefully dismissing the beads of sweat building up on my brow and under my thighs against any seat (ugh, leather!), and now, in the heat, i find the sweat cools me down; my hair dries slowly, and when it finally does dry (does it ever, though?) it curls up and bounces a little as i walk; my skin isn't desperate for thirst and relaxes in a comfortable bath of heavy air. in this cold moment, when i read the temperature at 10 degrees and low low humidity, i only have foods like tortilla soup to bring me some warming, heady nostalgia. unfortunately, it still doesn't make de-icing the car any easier.