Tag: Tucson food

  • Sonoran Shrimp Salad with Chiltepín, Crema, and Lime

    Sonoran Shrimp Salad
    Small shrimp mixed with crema, chiltepin and a side of chips

    Shrimp from the Gulf of California is some of the best in the world. Sweet, clean, and deeply tied to the Sonoran Desert. The Gulf helps create the Sonoran Desert’s five seasons, including the brief season when monsoon rains move into the arid landscape and everything responds by getting a little greener. It’s that connection between the sea and the desert that makes Sonoran and borderlands food so distinctive.

    Thus, when Nick mentioned we were traveling to Phoenix from the Old Pueblo, for a family gathering of Midwest transplants featuring his cousins and a former childhood next-door neighbor from Wisconsin, I wanted to bring to the potluck something that felt inclusive of our new home. Knowing that the Gulf and the desert are like Lake Michigan is to the Midwest, I wanted to craft a shrimp dip with ingredients used in the borderlands that felt right and, of course, important. 

    Image of the Baja
    Image of the Baja (Stock)

    Using small frozen shrimp, chiltepín pepper, crema, lime and hints of the deep south, dill, instead of cilantro (because not everyone loves cilantro) seemed simple, spoonable onto a chip and delicious. While the main ingredient focused on the small shrimp, the Mexican crema added creaminess, the lime provided citrus notes, a dash of agave to temper the acidity, and the chiltepín added a burst of borderlands warmth. 

    What’s interesting about Sonoran food, and about the Indigenous nations who have cooked here for centuries, is how much power there is in these foods. Chiltepín isn’t just a pepper; it’s considered the mother of all peppers. But not for its heat, but because botany experts believe it’s the original wild chile.  An indigenous ingredient that still grows wild along ravines and canyons, underneath shade, shielding it from the brutal desert elements.  It shows up in cooking every day, bringing the desert, the border, and the table. It doesn’t ask to be explained. It simply shows up as a reminder of what came before and is generous to those who pay attention.

    Now that the holidays are over, I can really lean into the regions where there are fewer excessive dishes and more food that makes sense where I am.

    Saguaro
    Saguaro Cactus in the Rincon Valley

    I’m especially grateful right now to explore food and ingredients that began in North America but not as something chic, but as food history. Ingredients that are shaped by desert climates, with Indigenous knowledge and surviving milleniums. In the borderlands, ingredients move across borders, kitchens, and of course, across generations. No matter how much we try to maintain a foodways map, it does work that way. 

    So I wanted something familiar enough for guests from the Midwest, but shaped by the desert and the borderlands.

    Shrimp Salad with Chiltepín, Crema, and Lime
    Serves 4–6 as a small plate or appetizer

    Ingredients

    •  1 pound small shrimp, peeled and deveined (frozen is fine), cooked and chilled
    •  2–3 tablespoons thick Mexican crema (or crema espesa)
    • 1–2 teaspoons fresh lime juice, plus lime zest if desired
    • 1-2 teaspoons, chopped dill or cilantro. Nick doesn’t like the latter, so you improvise. 
    • One stalk of celery, cut in half lengthways, and then diced. Add two if you want more crunch. 
    •  Â½â€“1 teaspoon crushed chiltepín pepper, to taste
    • Salt to taste

    Optional: 1–2 teaspoons olive oil

    ½ teaspoon ground coriander

    1. Preparation
      If using frozen shrimp, thaw completely according to directions. Drain well. Spread the shrimp in a single layer on paper towels and pat dry thoroughly. For best texture, refrigerate uncovered for 20–30 minutes to remove any excess moisture.
    2. Transfer the shrimp to a bowl and season lightly with salt and the crushed chiltepín. Toss gently and let sit for about 5 minutes. If any moisture releases, blot again with another paper towel. 
    3. In another small bowl, whisk the crema until emuslified. Add lime zest. 
    4. Add the crema to the shrimp along with the lime juice, starting with 1 teaspoon. Save the remainder of the lime for an accompanying margarita. Just sayin’. 
    5. Toss gently to coat. Add olive oil, if using, for a silkier texture. Taste and adjust seasoning with more lime, salt, or chiltepín as needed.
    6. Serve immediately, or chill briefly and toss again just before serving.

    Note: Water may still accumulate while chilling. Use a slotted spoon or don’t mind that it’s not dry.

    1. Mesquite Shortbread Cookies with Pecans, Baked in Tucson

      Mesquite Shortbread Cookies with Pecans, Baked in Tucson

      Mesquite shortbread cookies with toasted pecans and dark chocolate dip on a baking sheet
      Mesquite shortbread cookies with pecans, partially dipped in dark chocolate.

      I’ve been baking and cooking with mesquite lately. It’s an ingredient you don’t see on many menus or listed in recipes except as wood used for burning meat. As a wood, it imbues an aroma and smoky flavor you’d associate with a campfire or a grill. That savory, romantic smell of open flame alone is part of the reason many pitmasters pair it with apple and cherry woods.

      But mesquite has a much longer history as an edible food. Across the Sonoran Desert, Indigenous communities have harvested not only the wood from the trees but also the pods, drying them and grinding them into flour for thousands of years. That flour was mixed with water or fat and baked into tortillas, bread, or porridge. Mesquite flour isn’t meant to be used as a substitute for wheat. Because it’s derived from a tree pod, it’s grainy in a way that feels closer to rough-hewn corn or barley than sugar. It works best when blended with another flour, such as almond.

      I decided to try my hand at gluten-free shortbread made with mesquite. I paired it with almond flour, folded in pecans, and dipped it in melted dark chocolate. Pecans feel like a natural choice. They’re the only nut native to North America and appear across Indigenous, Mexican, and American kitchens. Cacao, indigenous to Mexico and the Amazon, adds another layer,  chocolate, to the cookie. Shortbread made sense because it’s traditional and feels like a holiday, and it doesn’t need frosting or messy sprinkles to contend with. This cookie relies on butter and balance, creating a sturdy texture that holds up to being dipped in chocolate.

      When they are finished, they make a good Santa treat. How could the jolly man, after squeezing himself down a Tucson chimney, covered in Sonoran dirt, not find joy with these and a glass of milk?

      I like mesquite – I’m using it in sauces too –  because it connects Indigenous foodways, Mexican culture, and the American Borderlands kitchen that absorbed both, often without being acknowledged.

      Did I say these were gluten-free?

      Mesquite shortbread cookies with pecans, dipped in chocolate.
      (Gluten-free) Makes about 24 cookies

      Ingredients

      1 cup almond flour
      1/3 cup mesquite flour
      1/4 cup powdered sugar
      1/4 teaspoon fine salt
      1/2 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
      1 teaspoon vanilla extract
      1/2 cup finely chopped pecans
      4 ounces dark chocolate, chopped

      Instructions

      1. Heat the oven to 325°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
      2. In a bowl, whisk together the almond flour, mesquite flour, powdered sugar, and salt.
      3. Add the butter and work it in with your fingers or a pastry cutter until the mixture looks like coarse sand and holds together when pressed.
      4. Stir in the vanilla, then fold in the pecans. If the dough feels dry, add 1–2 teaspoons of cold water.
      5. Roll out the dough so it’s about a quarter inch thick, then cut it into. Cut into rectangles for a classic shortbread shape, then place them on the baking sheet. Repeat the process with the remaining dough.
      6. Bake for 14–16 minutes, until set and just lightly golden at the edges. Let cool completely.
      7. Melt the chocolate gently. Dip half of each cookie into the chocolate, then return it to the parchment to set. You can even paint the chocolate onto the cookie with the back of a spoon – which is what I did. I tried dipping a couple of times, but found the cookie broke under the weight. I didn’t wait for the cookie to cool completely.

      Aside: Because mesquite flour is naturally sweet, it doesn’t need additional sugar. These keep well for several days and freeze well, both as a dough and as a finished product.

      Leftovers

      Local: Tucson Foodie reported that brothers Erick and Jose Quintero have opened Kintoki Sushi House & Bar in the former El Berraco space on North First Avenue, bringing a modern sushi concept with subtle Latin influences to a longtime neighborhood location. The restaurant, which opened Dec. 5, retains the building’s recognizable exterior while introducing a new menu of sushi, small plates and cocktails, keeping the cultural focus of the brothers’ Tucson ties.

      Regional: According to KJZZ, winter vegetable growers in southwestern Arizona are preparing for another uncertain season as water constraints and rising input costs continue to pressure food production in the Sonoran Desert. The Yuma region, which supplies a majority of the nation’s leafy greens during the winter months, remains heavily dependent on Colorado River allocations, even as short-term conservation agreements provide some stability. Growers say labor costs, transportation expenses and long-term water security remain key concerns heading into 2026.

      National: Labor shortages across U.S. agriculture are continuing to strain the food supply chain, with growers warning that limited access to workers could reduce output and contribute to higher food prices, according to national trade publication, FreshPlaza.

      The end. Go eat.