Biting into the quesadilla
Take a dive into the surprisingly complex quesadilla
Get the inside story on this surprisingly complex Mexican specialty. How quesadillas are made varies from region to region and house to house.
What goes into a quesadilla? Are you sure? By now, most Americans have figured out that mainstream culture duped them for the better part of the last century. Generations raised on Taco Bell and Chi-Chi’s now understand that Tex-Mex and Mex-Mex aren’t the same thing, even if their grasp on the latter is still a little tenuous. Take the Americanstyle quesadilla — gobs and gobs of oozing, melted cheese sandwiched between huge, griddled flour tortillas, stuffed with some kind of meat, piled high with guacamole and half a quart of sour cream and served with a side of NFL football. Most people know you won’t find that south of the border. But quesadillas are still made with tortillas and cheese, right?
Would you believe sometimes they’re made with neither?
At Restaurant Huauchinangos in Mesa, owner Alex Bonilla helps diners learn about lesser-known Pueblan specialties like molotes, tlacoyos and enmoladas. But if you think you know what to expect when you see quesadillas on the menu, you might be surprised.
Wait, quesadillas aren’t made with cheese?
Oh, they can be, and speaking broadly, they commonly are. But “quesadilla” is a big umbrella. Like so many Mexican foods, how they’re made will vary from region to region, city to city, neighborhood to neighborhood and household to household. Forming them fresh from a ball of masa is equally commonplace. And in many parts of the country, cheeseless quesadillas aren’t just a variant — they’re the norm.
And no, you’re not crazy. You’d think that a quesadilla — by definition — would have to include queso. But tell that to the 9 million residents of Mexico City. In the nation’s capital, etymological considerations are secondary. Adding cheese only when it’s specifically requested is common practice.
Is Bonilla from Mexico City?
No, but pretty close, geographically speaking. Bonilla is from Puebla, a central Mexican state just east of Mexico City, and his hometown, Huauchinango, is about a two-hour drive away. When he moved to the United States 22 years ago, he took a job as a dishwasher to make ends meet. But he fell in love with the kitchen, and when he’d saved up enough to open his own restaurant, he wanted to feature his family’s recipes from back home.
What does he put in his quesadillas?
In Puebla, Bonilla says, sometimes quesadillas have cheese and sometimes they don’t. It’s a matter of preference, and he serves them both ways. Moreover, like most restaurants, Bonilla offers a number of fillings — steak, marinated pork, chicharrón, mushrooms — but his tinga might be the best.
What is tinga?
It’s a Pueblan specialty — a quick, simple chicken stew made with a little sweetness and spice.
Bonilla and his sister, Mati Cruz, start by softening piles of sliced onions in vegetable oil before adding chicken breast that’s been simmered in water and shredded by hand.
In a blender, they whiz together fresh tomatoes and onions, a dash of chicken bouillon and lots of chipotle chiles in adobo — smoked, dried jalapeños that are rehydrated and canned in a tart, fiery sauce of tomato, vinegar, garlic and spices.
They then add this puree to the chicken and onion mix, cooking just for a few minutes until it thickens and comes together.