Huevos rancheros for two
Poaching eggs in the rustic sauce ups the flavor quotient in this easy family recipe
People are often surprised when they hear my answer to my favorite food, and I am always surprised that it catches them so offguard. My answer? Eggs. I love them in virtually all their preparations, and indeed I have ever since I was a child. I love the mustardy goodness of my mother’s deviled eggs and her chunky, creamy version of egg salad. Soft scrambled eggs wrapped in a warm homemade tortilla, fried eggs with lacy edges and runny yolks, omelets filled with veggies and cheese, eggs served in nearly any style satiate me. They have been my go-to breakfast, lunch and sometimes dinner my entire life when I want a meal with little to no fuss.
Not all eggs are created equal
I, like most city girls, grew up on commercially packaged eggs. We didn’t know any other kind. In my 20s, after I was back from college, I would often spend my Saturdays on backcountry drives through the mountains of Cuyamaca and Julian and wind my way through the sleepy town of Ramona, photographing the landscape. On one of those early drives, at the very edges of Ramona, as I made my way back toward the coast, I discovered an egg farm stand — a tiny drive-thru stand off the main highway on a dirt and gravel road. The building was so small that if you didn’t notice the signs leading up to it, you’d wind up driving past it, as I had done on so many occasions prior. I stopped and picked up a flat of jumbo eggs, took them home and proceeded to make eggs for dinner that evening.
It was like I had never tasted an egg before. I had initially intended to make scrambled eggs, but when I cracked open that first shell and out poured the brightest, orange-yellow yolk with the clearest liquid surrounding it that I had ever seen, I knew I had to make over-easy eggs instead.
As the eggs cooked, the yolk got even richer in color. The yolk oozed out gently and thickly, like golden syrup, when I cut into the beautiful golden dome.
Mr. Farm Fresh Egg, where had you been all my life? Since that discovery, I have continued to seek out eggs from farms whose hens are pastureraised/free-range, as the egg yolks are always intensely colored and, to my palate at least, more flavorful.
Replicating Mom’s huevos rancheros
I remember the first time I ordered huevos rancheros at a restaurant. I was so disappointed. The ranchero sauce was bland and was more of a chunky salsa spooned over the eggs instead of the brothier sauce I had grown up enjoying, with strips of onions and bell peppers. Also markedly different was the egg preparation: fried, over-medium, dotted with that chunky salsa.
I grew up on Mom’s huevos rancheros, so naturally, I thought everyone made them her way. The main difference in her preparation was that she poached her eggs in the sauce. Besides being able to avoid adding more oil to the dish, it makes the yolks rich and creamy, while the whites absorb some of the yummy flavors of the ranchero sauce. (Later on in life, I’d go on to discover — and fall in love with — Moroccan shakshuka, a similar dish to my mom’s huevos rancheros, of eggs poached in a tomato, onion and pepper sauce.)
Today’s recipe is my interpretation of my mom’s recipe. This ranchero sauce is super versatile and, once mastered, can be modified for your tastes and used in so many other ways. Like Mom, I use this sauce for chiles rellenos. It’s also fantastic over skirt steaks or drenching shredded chicken for tacos. My dad adds copious amounts of cilantro to it for use as a braise for pork spareribs. Delicious.