By Salsa verde (cooked tomatillo salsa)
Tomatillos simmered with serrano and garlic, blended with cilantro. Rounder and sweeter than the raw version, and it keeps a week.
- Prep
- 5 min
- Cook
- 15 min
- Makes
- about 2 cups
- Difficulty
- Easy
Real heat that fades with a drink of water. Jalapeño territory.
Ingredients
Makes about 2 cups
- 1¼ lb tomatillo about 10 medium, husked and rinsed
- 4 serrano pepper
- ½ bunch cilantro stems included — that is where the flavor is
- 2 cloves garlic unpeeled
- ¼ white onion
- 1½ tsp salt
- enough to barely cover water
Keeps 1 week refrigerated
Method
- 1
Pull the papery husks off the tomatillos and rinse them, rubbing with your hands until they stop feeling sticky. That sticky film is bitter and it is the number one reason a green salsa tastes off.
- 2
Put the tomatillos, whole serranos, unpeeled garlic and onion in a saucepan. Add water to barely cover.
- 3
Bring to a boil, then lower the heat. Simmer 8 to 12 minutes, until the tomatillos turn from bright green to dull olive. The moment one splits, stop — overcooked tomatillos fall apart and the salsa never thickens.
- 4
Lift everything out with a slotted spoon and save a cup of the cooking water. Squeeze the garlic out of its skin.
- 5
Blend the tomatillos, chiles, garlic and onion with the salt for 20 seconds.
- 6
Add the cilantro and pulse twice — just enough to fold it in. Blend it longer and the salsa turns bitter and dull green.
- 7
Thin with the cooking water a tablespoon at a time. Use that, not tap water: it carries flavor. Taste for salt and let it cool uncovered.
Good with
Chilaquiles · Enchiladas · Shredded chicken · Eggs poached in salsa
If the raw green salsa is the emergency one, this is the salsa of the week: the batch you make on Sunday in a big pot that carries you through breakfast until Thursday. Boiling the tomatillos strips out the sharp acidic edge and draws out sugars, so the salsa loses some nerve and gains roundness — and that roundness is exactly what it needs to be spooned over things without fighting them.
It is also the foundation of a lot of everyday Mexican cooking. Green chilaquiles are this salsa. Chicken in salsa verde is this salsa. So are enchiladas verdes, huevos ahogados, and pork with purslane.
The rinse everyone skips
The husk leaves a sticky film on the tomatillo that is genuinely bitter. Rubbing them under running water until they stop being slippery takes thirty seconds.
It is the most common reason a homemade green salsa tastes vaguely wrong in a way the cook cannot place.
The exact point of doneness
The mistake is overcooking. Tomatillos do not need to soften until they collapse; they need to lose their rawness and nothing more.
The signal is color: they go in bright, almost fluorescent green and come out dull olive. When one splits and releases a jet of juice, you are a hair past ideal and it is time to stop.
A burst, disintegrated tomatillo has left its body in the water, and that salsa will never thicken no matter how long you blend it. If it happens, blend two raw tomatillos in with the rest — they restore pectin and texture.
Why the garlic goes in with its skin on
A peeled clove boiled for fifteen minutes turns soft and sweet, but it also leaks compounds that make the liquid bitter. In its skin it steams inside its own wrapper, comes out buttery, and slips free when you pinch it.
Small detail, noticeable difference, especially with two cloves or more.
Turning it into fried salsa verde
This recipe is also the starting point for the sazonada version — the one taquerias serve, and the reason theirs tastes different from yours.
Heat two tablespoons of oil or lard in a pot until it just shimmers, pour the blended salsa in all at once — it spatters, keep a lid handy — and cook it over medium heat for eight to ten minutes, stirring now and then.
The salsa darkens, thickens and loses its raw taste. That version keeps even longer and stands up to the heat of chilaquiles without going watery.
Adjusting it for the job
For chilaquiles, leave it looser than looks right: tortilla chips absorb an enormous amount and a thick salsa leaves them dry inside.
For enchiladas, thicker and well seasoned, since nothing is going to dilute it.
For braising chicken or pork, make it with no salt or half the salt. The stew will reduce and concentrate, and a fully seasoned salsa turns into an inedible one.
Keeping it
Sealed glass jar, cold, one week. Because it is cooked it freezes well: fill flat one-cup bags that thaw in minutes and cover a breakfast. The only change on thawing is a little separated water, which a turn in the pan reintegrates.
Common questions
What is a tomatillo, exactly?
Not an unripe tomato. It is a different plant in the Physalis genus, related to the tomato but not the same species, and it grows inside a papery husk. Raw it tastes tart and citrusy; cooked it loses the edge and turns sweet.
Why does my green salsa taste bitter?
Almost always one of two things: you did not rinse the tomatillos properly — that sticky film under the husk is bitter — or you over-blended the cilantro. Cilantro goes in last and gets two pulses. If it is already made, half a teaspoon of sugar and a squeeze of lime help.
How long do I boil tomatillos?
Eight to twelve minutes depending on size. The cue is not the clock, it is the color: they go from bright, almost fluorescent green to dull olive. As soon as the first one splits and leaks, you are done.
Should I use the cooking water or fresh water?
The cooking water, always. Part of the tomatillo flavor and acidity ends up in it. Save a cup even if you do not use it all — tap water just dilutes.
Cooked or raw — which should I make?
Cooked is rounder and sweeter, and it is what you want for chilaquiles, enchiladas or anything you are going to spoon over food. Raw is sharper and fresher, better next to fatty tacos, but it only keeps three days. Cooked keeps a week and freezes.
Can I use jalapeños instead of serranos?
Yes, but use one and a half to two jalapeños per serrano — they are milder — and expect a thicker, more vegetal salsa, because jalapeños carry much more flesh.