The Dish

Once the migas habit takes hold, once you realize you’re held hostage by thoughts of softly scrambled eggs mingled with crisp tortilla strips and onion, tomato, jalapeño, and cheese, you find that neither the blueberry pancakes nor the eggs Benedict you once loved so dearly can touch your soul in the same way again. Legion are the Texans who might have once reserved their migas interludes for a Saturday or Sunday morning only to find themselves caving to the craving at midweek. Or in the evening. Or in the wee hours. Anytime, really.

How to Make It

Cooking a migas breakfast is as easy as putting Los Lonely Boys on the stereo and teasing your morning coffee with cinnamon and piloncillo. Lisa Wong, the chef and owner of Rosario’s Café y Cantina and Ácenar, in San Antonio, makes migas using the recipe of Juanita Gaona, one of her longtime cooks. She begins by cutting half a dozen corn tortillas into eighths, frying them in a large sauté pan with canola oil, and draining them on paper towels. Leaving a tablespoon of oil in the pan, she then cooks finely diced white onion, tomato, and jalapeños or serranos until they soften. She returns the tortilla pieces to the pan and folds in six beaten eggs, cooking the mixture just until done and adding salt and pepper. “You can top the migas with Monterey Jack or yellow cheese,” she says, “but my favorite is Juanita’s version, with a sprinkle of queso fresco, onion, and cilantro.” —JN