Chicharrón Prensado En Salsa Roja – Pressed Pork Cracklings Simmered In Spicy Red Sauce.
My Tía Mildred once tried to make this and set off the smoke alarm… twice. ¡Ay Dios mío!
Okay, so chicharrón prensado, right? It’s not just fried pork skin, it's… an experience. My abuela used to say it was peasant food – food for people who couldn’t waste anything. (Which, let’s be real, is most of us, if we’re being honest.) But she elevated it, mija. She always elevated it.
It started way back, honestly, with the Spanish colonizers bringing over pigs to Mexico. Before that, the indigenous folks had their own ways of preserving meats, but pork… pork became popular quickly. And of course, nothing goes to waste! The early versions were basically just rendered fat and bits of skin, pressed into something solid when it cooled. Think survival snack. Not glamorous.
But then, over time, cooks – mostly women, let’s give credit where it’s due – started adding spices, chilies, and simmering everything in sauce. That’s how you get chicharrón prensado en salsa roja. It's the ultimate comfort food, though my cousins would argue about that—they prefer carnitas, those show-offs. (They think they're fancy). But trust me, on a cold day, with a warm tortilla… nothing beats it.
My Abuelita Elena was the queen of this dish. Her kitchen smelled like heaven: cinnamon, cumin, roasted chiles… and a little bit of grease, because let’s be real, it wouldn't be chicharrón without the grease. I remember being a little girl, sitting at her kitchen table, watching her work. She never measured anything, always going by feel. "Un poquito de esto, un puñito de aquello," she'd say. ("A little of this, a handful of that.") It drove my mother crazy.
One time, I tried to “help.” Big mistake. I added a whole cup of salt thinking it needed more flavor. Abuela didn’t yell, she just gave me the look. You know the one? The one that says, “Mija, you have much to learn." My cousin Ricardo snickered so hard he nearly choked on his horchata.
And then there’s Tía Mildred. Oh, Tía Mildred. She decided she was going to make chicharrón prensado for the church potluck. Now, Tía Mildred is… enthusiastic. And not necessarily a great cook. (Let's just leave it at that.) She thought adding extra chili powder would make it “more authentic.” It made it burn your face off. The smoke alarm went off, she panicked, and started waving a dish towel at it.
Carlos, bless his heart, just stood in the doorway and said, “Maybe open a window?” He doesn’t get involved in family drama; he learned that lesson early.
The potluck was… memorable. People were sweating, fanning themselves with their plates. But they ate it! Because it was Tía Mildred, and you don't want to hurt her feelings. It tasted pretty good under all the fire, actually. She claimed it was her secret ingredient: “¡El secreto es el amor!” (“The secret is love!”).
We all just nodded slowly.
Abuela always said the key was patience. You can’t rush chicharrón prensado. You have to let it simmer, let the flavors meld. It’s like life, she’d say. (Everything is like life with abuelas, right?). One time I complained about how long it took to make. She sighed and said, "Mija, good things take time."
She used to press the pork in this old, wooden mold, the same one her mother used. It was cracked and worn, but it held so many memories. Every time I use it, I feel connected to generations of women who came before me, all sharing this same recipe, same stories.
I’ve tried making it exactly like Abuela did, but it never tastes quite the same. There's something missing, some secret ingredient that she didn’t tell anyone. Maybe it really was the love. Or maybe it was just magic. Honestly? Probably both. Even now, the scent reminds me of being small again, safe in her kitchen, listening to her stories. And yeah, sometimes dodging Ricardo’s mischievous grin.
Recipe
Ingredients 🌽🥘
- 2 lbs pork skin, with a little meat attached (ask your butcher!)
- 1 tbsp salt
- 1 tsp black pepper
- 1/2 tsp cumin
- 1/4 tsp oregano
- 8 dried guajillo chiles, stemmed and seeded
- 4 Roma tomatoes
- 1/2 white onion, roughly chopped
- 2 cloves garlic
- 1 tbsp apple cider vinegar
- 2 cups chicken broth
- 2 tbsp vegetable oil
- 1 bay leaf
Tools 🔪🥄
- Large stockpot
- Blender or food processor
- Heavy pot or Dutch oven
- Kitchen shears
- Wooden spoon
- Pressing mold (optional; can use a loaf pan lined with plastic wrap)
Steps
- Rinse the pork skin and cut it into 2-inch pieces. Place in the stockpot, cover with water, add the 1 tablespoon of salt and bring to a boil. Boil for about 30 minutes, or until the skin is tender but still holds its shape. Drain well.
- Cut the pork skin into smaller, more manageable pieces using kitchen shears. Season with black pepper, cumin, and oregano.
- In a separate pot, rehydrate the guajillo chiles by covering them with hot water for 20-30 minutes. Once softened, drain the chiles and place them in a blender along with the tomatoes, onion, garlic, and apple cider vinegar. Blend until smooth.
- Heat the vegetable oil in the heavy pot or Dutch oven over medium heat. Pour in the blended chile sauce and cook for about 10 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce has thickened slightly. This is where it starts smelling amazing!
- Add the seasoned pork skin and chicken broth to the pot. Bring to a simmer, then reduce heat to low, cover, and cook for at least 3 hours, or until the pork skin is very tender and falling apart. Stir occasionally to prevent sticking.
- Remove the bay leaf. Using two forks, shred the pork skin directly in the sauce. If you have a pressing mold, line it with plastic wrap and transfer the shredded pork mixture into the mold. Press firmly to compact it. (If not, just leave it shredded – still delicious!)
- Let the pressed pork cool completely. (Patience, mija, patience!) Then, unmold it (if using) and cut into squares or rectangles. Serve warm.
Make-Ahead / Storage
- The sauce can be made 1–2 days ahead of time and stored in an airtight container in the refrigerator.
- Leftover chicharrón prensado can be refrigerated for up to 3 days.
- You can freeze the pressed pork for up to 2 months; thaw overnight in the refrigerator before reheating.
- Reheat gently on the stovetop or in the microwave. Adding a splash of broth helps keep it moist.
Side Dish Pairing
- Pickled red onions and habanero salsa for a tangy kick.
- Warm, homemade tortillas and a side of elote (Mexican street corn).
Tía Mildred siempre decía, “A little extra chili powder never hurt anybody!”
