Calabacitas Con Elote – Sautéed Zucchini And Corn With Cheese And Onion.

I swear, every time I try to make something simple, Tía Mildred gets involved. It’s always…a production.

Alright, so calabacitas con elote. Sounds easy, right? Wrong. It's like opening Pandora’s Box when you start talking about real Mexican cooking, because suddenly everyone is an expert. ¡Ay Dios mío!

You see, this dish—sauteed zucchini and corn—it isn’t new. Not at all. The roots go way back. Before refrigeration, before supermarkets, people used what they had growing in their milpas (cornfields). Zucchini and corn were staples, especially for indigenous communities in central Mexico. They would pair it with epazote (an herb, tastes like dirt if you don’t know what you’re doing) and chiles. It wasn’t fancy, but it was filling and delicious.

Then came the Spanish, and they brought cheese. Oaxaca cheese specifically, or queso asadero. And things got interesting. The combination of the fresh vegetables with the melty cheese... that’s where the magic happens. But, mija, every family has its own “secret” recipe. Every abuela thinks hers is the best. (And they’re probably right.) We fight over the ratios, the kind of onion, even the size of the zucchini slices.

My Abuelita Elena, she made it every summer. She grew her own corn and zucchini in the backyard. A tiny garden, but she treated those plants like gold. And she always added a pinch of sugar, said it "woke up" the flavor. My mom, she tries to follow Abuelita’s recipe exactly, but she always forgets the sugar. Drives my Abuelita crazy.

Last week, I was trying to make it. Just me, trying to have a quiet evening. Ha! Carlos was watching a soccer game, barely registering I was alive, which is normal. And then Tía Mildred shows up. Unannounced, of course. With a shopping bag full of…who knows what.

“I heard you were making calabacitas,” she announces, marching into the kitchen like she owns the place. “Thought I'd supervise.”

Supervise? More like critique everything I do. She started rearranging my onions—apparently, I wasn't dicing them finely enough. "Mija," she says, sighing dramatically, "you chop onions like a gringo!" Like that was helpful.

Then she noticed my cheese. "That's not queso Oaxaca!" she exclaimed. "That's... Monterey Jack? Qué barbaridad!" (What a horror!). I tried to explain that the store was out of Oaxaca, but she wouldn’t hear it. She pulled a block of Oaxaca from her bag. Where she gets it, I don’t even want to know. Probably bartering with someone down the street.

My cousin Sofia and her little boy, Mateo, wandered in while this was happening. Mateo, bless his heart, is three and has no filter. He looked at Tía Mildred and said, “Your hair is funny.”

Tía Mildred gasped. “Funny?! This is a perfectly respectable bouffant!” And then she launched into a story about how she won a beauty pageant in 1978. I swear, that woman can turn anything back to 1978.

Meanwhile, Abuelita Elena had come over because she smelled something cooking. She took one look at the scene – me looking exasperated, Tía Mildred holding court, Sofia trying to corral Mateo, Carlos still glued to the soccer game – and just started laughing.

“Ay, Dios mío,” she said, shaking her head. “This family. Never a dull moment.” She walked straight to the stove, grabbed the pan, and started adding things. More garlic, a dash of cumin, a pinch of… you guessed it, sugar.

I tried to protest, but it was useless. When Abuelita cooks, you do not interfere. It's a rule. We all just stood there, watching her work her magic. Even Tía Mildred shut up. For five minutes.

Then, naturally, she had to offer her opinion on the cheese again. "It still needs more Oaxaca," she mumbled. Abuelita gave her a look that could curdle milk. And that was that.

The calabacitas turned out amazing, obviously. Because Abuelita always makes everything amazing. But the whole process? A complete and utter circus. It's why I need a drink just thinking about making this dish.

And yesterday? The neighbor, Mrs. Rodriguez, saw everything through the window. She called my mom to tell her about Tía Mildred’s “performance.” Honestly. You can’t win.

Recipe

Ingredients 🌽🥘

• 3 tablespoons vegetable oil
• 1 medium white onion, finely diced
• 3 cloves garlic, minced
• 3 medium zucchini, diced
• 2 cups fresh or frozen corn kernels (if frozen, thaw first)
• 1/2 cup epazote leaves, chopped (optional, but recommended if you like dirt flavor!)
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon salt
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper
• 1 tablespoon sugar (don’t tell Mom!)
• 8 ounces queso Oaxaca, shredded (Monterey Jack works in a pinch, Tía Mildred will judge you)

Tools 🔪🥄

• Large skillet or wok
• Cutting board
• Knife
• Measuring spoons and cups
• Wooden spoon or spatula

Steps

1. Heat the oil in a large skillet over medium heat. Add the diced onion and cook until softened, about 5 minutes. Don't let it brown, unless you want Abuelita yelling at you.
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2. Add the minced garlic and cook for another minute, until fragrant. Watch it closely – burnt garlic is no bueno.
3. Add the diced zucchini and corn kernels to the skillet. Cook, stirring occasionally, for about 10-15 minutes, or until the zucchini is tender-crisp. Remember that milpa life! They didn’t have forever.
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4. If using epazote, add it now and cook for another 2-3 minutes, until wilted. Seriously though, be careful with that stuff. It has a strong flavor.
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5. Stir in the cumin, salt, pepper, and sugar. Taste and adjust seasonings as needed. My Abuelita always says, "Seasoning is a feeling, mija." I have no idea what that means.
6. Reduce the heat to low and sprinkle the shredded queso Oaxaca evenly over the vegetables. Cover the skillet and cook until the cheese is melted and gooey, about 5 minutes.
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7. Serve immediately and brace yourself for everyone's opinions on your technique. You can never win, honestly.

Make-Ahead / Storage

• Leftovers can be stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 3 days.
• Reheat gently in a skillet or microwave. The cheese won't be as melty, but it will still taste good.
• Freezing isn't really recommended; the zucchini gets mushy when thawed.
• You can chop the onions, garlic, and zucchini ahead of time to save some prep work, but don't combine them until you're ready to cook.

Side Dish Pairing

• Grilled carne asada (you need something substantial to balance the veggies)
• Homemade tortillas (because what Mexican meal ISN’T better with fresh tortillas?)

Tía Mildred siempre decía, “A little drama makes everything taste better.”

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