Chimichanga is a fun word to say. Of course, it doesn’t really translate to anything meaningful. According to one story a Spanish speaking chef about to mutter a profanity noticed children nearby and blurted “chimichanga” instead.
Clever, if true.
The word was attached menus because of a mistake — perhaps the same one that caused the chef to bend the rules of vocabulary. The most common origin tale related to the chimichanga involves someone in the kitchen at El Charro Cafe in Tucson, Arizona, accidentally spilling a burrito into the restaurant’s deep fryer.
Of course, there are other claims with dates ranging over several decades of the 20th century. Most of these come from competing Tucson establishments, though it is quite possible the dish spread north from the border.
That someone conjured up the word, that the dish probably masquerades as Mexican hardly matters to most people. The fumbling line cook created an instant classic, claimed by Tucson, by Tex-Mex purists and even by restaurants touting their “authentic” Mexican cooking.
In its basic form, the chimichanga remains a deep fried burrito. But basic chimis are difficult to find, as the dish seems to have bulged with America’s waistline. You can now find them stuffed with different meats, gooey cheese, rice, beans, chilis and more in monstrous proportions.
At TNT in Lakeport, the chimichanga is a challenge for one sitting — at least for those who did not skip earlier meals. Yet it deserves recognition for a different reason.
You see, at many restaurants the bulk up the chimichanga with filler material — rice, beans and such. TNT serves an honest dish, one loaded with surprisingly (to those of us who have encountered too many forgettable chimis) tender meat. Fry cooks use a deft hand, pulling the chimi from the oil before it loses all of its burrito heritage. The shell emerges somewhat soft, but with a crisp patina.
Smothered in guacamole and sour cream, it is a mild tempered version — a nod to the original Tuscon style. Fans of heat should call for a little extra salsa, perhaps. On the other hand, the muted chili burn allows you to pick up on the husky savor of meat and the mellow ease of the guacamole.
It is not a monotonous thing.
Yeah, there are purists who will point out that the chimichanga is an American invention, most likely. When Tex-Mex and other regional twists on true Mexican cooking began sweeping across the nation in the 1960s and ‘70s, however, the defining lines blurred.
Little mistakes, nonsensical words, blurred lines — in this case it’s all for the good.
Dave Faries can be reached at 900-2016
