Canto CCCXCI: How to Heat Up a Sobaquera

Gentle cabrones:

A sobaquera is one of the great culinary marvels of the Americas, a flour tortilla as thin as tissue paper and with the circumference of a basketball hoop. It’s the orgullo of Sonoraland — the Mexican state of Sonora, the American state of Arizona and wherever there’s bacanora, Miguel y Miguel and chiltepín instead of of tequila, Peso Pluma and jalapeños.

I’m not talking about burrito-sized tortillas you get at Northgate or — BARF — from GRUMA, the Thanos of the tortilla world. A true sobaquera makes those seem as tiny as a Communion wafer and as ersatz as Bondo. True sobaqueras are not readily available commercially in Southern California — the closest would be El Ruso in Silver Lake, but you have to ask Walter in advance so they can make them. Sonoratown, the fabulous L.A. County mini-chain that won my inaugural #tortillatournament, doesn’t dare try.

Sobaqueras are an art, a sacrament and freakin’ good. That’s why when I began to drive back from my road trip of the past week from Santa Barbara to Colorado Springs to OC that I just returned from yesterday, (canto to come) and fate took me through the Sonoran Desert at the last moment (sorry for not alerting, Mighty Peter!), I knew I had to get some.

I was able to eat two fresh ones at the place where I got them, drowning in shimmering butter — fabulous. Had a sobaquera in the form of a burro (what burritos are called in Sonoraland) from…somewhere…that was magnificent. Picked up a half-dozen to take home, to pair with the wonderful bean soup my honey made with freeze-dried mirasol chiles from Pueblo and a biscochito from ABQ for dessert for a concluding Southwestern dinner.

When it was time to eat, I grabbed a sobaquera from the fridge and unfolded it. It blotted out my comal like a thumb blocking out Polaris.

How would I heat up my giant tortilla?

Badly, as you’ll see.

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I’ve long annoyed too many in the food world and beyond for having no problem if outsiders cook the food of a culture that’s not “theirs,” or open a restaurant of a cuisine that’s “not theirs,” or even become a millionaire off of “what’s not theirs.”

Tradition is important, but outsiders can bring in ideas that can make a cuisine better, alive. Think of what al pastor brought to the world of Mexican pork dishes, or curry to Great Britain, or peppers to the world.

But you gotta hit the landing.

You need to pay attention to what makes something so great in the first place. Ideally, you observe someone doing it, or read about it, or ask an expert to learn how to do it. You don’t impose your own values on a treasure and expect the treasure to shine because of your supposed brilliance. That’s asking for a disaster.

That’s what happened to me.

I knew that I’d have to move the sobaquera around the comal to ensure that every part got cooked. But — and I admit this almost never — I was tired. I forgot it was a sobaquera in front of me and began to heat it like any other flour tortilla — seven seconds each side on a hotter-than-should-be comal.

You saw the results above. By treating it like something normal, I created half-cooked sobaquera chips.

To properly cook a sobaquera, you need to have a properly sized comal to make things truly manageable and thus ultimately successful. Barring that, you need to move and flip, move and flip, like Simon Biles on the balance beam. Quick, thoughtful, artful. You shouldn’t spend time thinking; you need to be doing.

Move and flip, move and flip until the sobaquera feels slightly rubbery and smells like a rancho outdoor kitchen and you can fold it up and the sobaquera doesn’t harden into a brittle, folded square. I’ve never been able to master the technique on a regular comal (a flattop stove does the trick, but we don’t have one at home — who do you think we are, the Childs?) — which doesn’t mean I haven’t stopped trying.

Because here’s the thing with a real treasure: You can’t mess it up. It’ll mess you up if you don’t know what you’re doing, but it can also teach you something if you pay attention.

And if you still mess up? It’s still a treasure. You clean up and make something out of it and promise to not mess up again, even though you most likely will. And hope there’s an “again” to begin with.

I haven’t had sobaqueras in years. I cursed what I did to the one I heated. And then I made some sense of what had happened:

I used those sobaquera chips for my new tortilla soup.

It would’ve been far better as shreds I could dunk in, but the flavor of the giga-tortilla remained: wheaty, comforting, the tiniest bit buttery. Delicious — and yet it could’ve been better.

I did not feel sorry for myself. I felt inspired to try again.

Five more sobaqueras to go. No more sobaquera chips. Maybe not tomorrow, maybe not for a while — but eventually. Goals. Always goals, and cool when you get them — and then, move and flip, move and flip.

**

Enough rambling. This was the semana that was:

IMAGE OF THE WEEK: Our small loquat tree fruiting for the first time since I planted it as a foot-tall five years ago. SO GOOD!!!

QUOTE OF THE WEEK: “It is not your duty to finish the work, but neither are you at liberty to neglect it” — Rabbi Tarfon. WERK

LISTENING: “Trópico de Cancer,” Café Tacvba. The most beautiful song of the most beautiful album by the most beautiful group in rock en Español. One of the most brilliant songs ever produced from the Americas — what else would you call a tune that simultaneously call out careerism, anti-indigenism and Big Oil via a drum machine done as a bossa nova? The guys should’ve stuck to this music instead of the electro-whatever they’ve done for the past quarter century. This!

READING: “Culture of Kurenti: Cleveland’s Fearsome Monsters of Slovenian Winter”: Why immigrants to the U.S. matter, Part 5,338,438,489. Well-written, awesomely researched — Smithsonian’s Folklife Magazine always brings it.

BUY MY NEW CO-BOOK! People’s Guide to Orange County tells an alternative history of OC through the scholarship and reporting of myself, Elaine Lewinnek, and Thuy Vo Dang. There’ll be signings all year — in meanwhile, buy your copy TODAY. And, yes: I’ll autograph it!

Gustavo Events  

April 23, 7 p.m.: I'll be in conversation about "Covering 25 Years of OC Democratic Party Tomfoolery," a title so scandalous that some bigwig Dems have already complained about it and my presence! Pinche OC Dems are as humorless as Dodgers fans. At St. Paul's Episcopal Church, 1221 Wass St., Tustin. $5 at the door.

April 26, 3 p.m.: I’ll be moderating “The Activist Spirit and the Embodiment of Solidarity” at the L.A. Times Festival of Books at Newman Recital Hall at USC. Tickets will be required but not released until April 20, so stay tuned.

April 27, 11:45 am. and 4:15 p.m.: I’ll be moderating two more panels for the L.A. Times Festival of Books: “Voto Latino: Post-Election Reflections” and “Ask a Reporter: How We Cover Immigration.” The former will be at the De Los Stage and accessible to all, the latter will be at Mudd Hall 203 and will require tickets that are not released until April 20, so stay tuned.

May 3, 9 a.m.: Join me and one of my co-authors of A People’s Guide to Orange County as we do a tour of Anacrime! Tickets are $20 but completely worth it — buy here.

May 14, 11 a.m.: I’ll be in conversation with Eric Nusbaum about his wonderful book, Stealing Home: Los Angeles, the Dodgers and the Lives Caught in Between. At the Braille Institute of Los Angeles, 741 N Vermont Avenue , Los Angeles. Talk is FREE — more info here.

Gustavo in the News

“Dont like a columnists opinion? Los Angeles Times offers an AI-generated opposing viewpoint”: Someone likes AI pendejadas, I guess.

“The Dodgers are slated to meet Trump at the White House today. Some fans aren’t happy”: A Los Angeles Times newsletter you should subscribe to plugs a columna of mine.

“What are L.A.’s. best books ever? Let the fighting begin”: Another Los Angeles Times newsletter you should subscribe to plugs a columna of mine.

“The LA Times Has ‘Moved On’ From AI-Driven Bias Meter After KKK Snafu”: In which The Wrap participates in the easiest game in L.A.: Hating on the Times.

“Buying in bulk, Trader Joe's, Costco”: I appear on a Good Food with Evan Kleiman repeat.

“Part 166: Lifestyles and Rate Increases – Understanding California Insurance Commissioner Ricardo Lara“: Legendary whistleblower Zachary Ellison mentions me in another story of his.

Gustavo Stories 

“Grítale a Guti”: Latest edition of my Tuesday night IG Live free-for-all.

“Newport Beach investigated for pricy mooring permits”: My latest KCRW “Orange County Line” commentary is about the boat set.

"Recipe Club”: I appear on the popular food television show/podcast to match up my mami’s capirotada against lechon and potatos au grautin — who wins?

“With Gusto: The Life and Times of Gustavo Arellano": My speech that I gave last year as part of Saddleback College’s inaugural WordFestOC literary shindig is finally up!

“Frieda Caplan broke through the glass ceiling, one kiwi at a time”: Good Food with Evan Kleiman replays my 202 remembrance of my dear, legendary friend.

“Trump threatened Vietnam with a huge tariff. How’s that going over in Little Saigon?”: My latest L.A. Times columna gives context to why some Vietnamese in OC think the way they do. KEY QUOTE: “Over the decades, doing business with Vietnam has evolved from an affront that could result in death threats to a common profession that keeps Little Saigon stores stocked with affordable goods.”

“Trump’s cruelty to migrants reminds us what Easter is about”: My next latest L.A. Times columna is about Kilmar Abrego García. KEY QUOTE: “But instead of doing everything they can to return him to the U.S., they’re doing everything possible not to — damn the law. And damn the human cost of leaving Abrego Garcia to languish in a prison sytem where inmates are crammed into cells and are increasingly being used as photo ops by Republican lawmakers.”

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