The first thing to know about queso fundido is that it’s not “queso,” the creamy dip, often based on Velveeta, eaten with chips. Queso fundido, which translates to “melted cheese,” is just that: It’s melted cheese to which you can add sautéed mushrooms, poblano peppers or chorizo.
It must be eaten the moment it’s done, when the cheese is warm and stretchy. You spoon it out, take pictures of your cheese pull, and quickly put it in a corn or flour tortilla with whatever fixings you want — avocado, salsa, maybe a squeeze of lime. Think of it as a cheese taco.
This version is based on the queso fundido I had at Nicos in Mexico City a few years back. The first time I went was with a group of local friends. I didn’t order, but rather happily ate whatever came to the table that they had ordered. The first thing that arrived was a cazuela of queso fundido topped with a mountain of fried parsley. I was stunned. I’d seen a lot of queso fundido in my time but never one like this. I loved the juxtaposition of the rich, dense cheese and the ethereal leaves of crispy fried parsley. It was literally something I wrote home about. I thought about that presentation many times and did my best to replicate it here.
Have your accoutrements and your appetite ready before melting the cheese in the oven and get ready to dig in. Just like you don’t walk away from a soufflé, you don’t walk away from queso fundido. Some things don’t get better with time.
The first thing to know about queso fundido is that it’s not “queso,” the creamy dip, often based on Velveeta, eaten with chips. Queso fundido, which translates to “melted cheese,” is just that: It’s melted cheese to which you can add sautéed mushrooms, poblano peppers or chorizo.
It must be eaten the moment it’s done, when the cheese is warm and stretchy. You spoon it out, take pictures of your cheese pull, and quickly put it in a corn or flour tortilla with whatever fixings you want — avocado, salsa, maybe a squeeze of lime. Think of it as a cheese taco.
This version is based on the queso fundido I had at Nicos in Mexico City a few years back. The first time I went was with a group of local friends. I didn’t order, but rather happily ate whatever came to the table that they had ordered. The first thing that arrived was a cazuela of queso fundido topped with a mountain of fried parsley. I was stunned. I’d seen a lot of queso fundido in my time but never one like this. I loved the juxtaposition of the rich, dense cheese and the ethereal leaves of crispy fried parsley. It was literally something I wrote home about. I thought about that presentation many times and did my best to replicate it here.
Have your accoutrements and your appetite ready before melting the cheese in the oven and get ready to dig in. Just like you don’t walk away from a soufflé, you don’t walk away from queso fundido. Some things don’t get better with time.
The first thing to know about queso fundido is that it’s not “queso,” the creamy dip, often based on Velveeta, eaten with chips. Queso fundido, which translates to “melted cheese,” is just that: It’s melted cheese to which you can add sautéed mushrooms, poblano peppers or chorizo.
It must be eaten the moment it’s done, when the cheese is warm and stretchy. You spoon it out, take pictures of your cheese pull, and quickly put it in a corn or flour tortilla with whatever fixings you want — avocado, salsa, maybe a squeeze of lime. Think of it as a cheese taco.
This version is based on the queso fundido I had at Nicos in Mexico City a few years back. The first time I went was with a group of local friends. I didn’t order, but rather happily ate whatever came to the table that they had ordered. The first thing that arrived was a cazuela of queso fundido topped with a mountain of fried parsley. I was stunned. I’d seen a lot of queso fundido in my time but never one like this. I loved the juxtaposition of the rich, dense cheese and the ethereal leaves of crispy fried parsley. It was literally something I wrote home about. I thought about that presentation many times and did my best to replicate it here.
Have your accoutrements and your appetite ready before melting the cheese in the oven and get ready to dig in. Just like you don’t walk away from a soufflé, you don’t walk away from queso fundido. Some things don’t get better with time.
The first thing to know about queso fundido is that it’s not “queso,” the creamy dip, often based on Velveeta, eaten with chips. Queso fundido, which translates to “melted cheese,” is just that: It’s melted cheese to which you can add sautéed mushrooms, poblano peppers or chorizo.
It must be eaten the moment it’s done, when the cheese is warm and stretchy. You spoon it out, take pictures of your cheese pull, and quickly put it in a corn or flour tortilla with whatever fixings you want — avocado, salsa, maybe a squeeze of lime. Think of it as a cheese taco.
This version is based on the queso fundido I had at Nicos in Mexico City a few years back. The first time I went was with a group of local friends. I didn’t order, but rather happily ate whatever came to the table that they had ordered. The first thing that arrived was a cazuela of queso fundido topped with a mountain of fried parsley. I was stunned. I’d seen a lot of queso fundido in my time but never one like this. I loved the juxtaposition of the rich, dense cheese and the ethereal leaves of crispy fried parsley. It was literally something I wrote home about. I thought about that presentation many times and did my best to replicate it here.
Have your accoutrements and your appetite ready before melting the cheese in the oven and get ready to dig in. Just like you don’t walk away from a soufflé, you don’t walk away from queso fundido. Some things don’t get better with time.
The first thing to know about queso fundido is that it’s not “queso,” the creamy dip, often based on Velveeta, eaten with chips. Queso fundido, which translates to “melted cheese,” is just that: It’s melted cheese to which you can add sautéed mushrooms, poblano peppers or chorizo.
It must be eaten the moment it’s done, when the cheese is warm and stretchy. You spoon it out, take pictures of your cheese pull, and quickly put it in a corn or flour tortilla with whatever fixings you want — avocado, salsa, maybe a squeeze of lime. Think of it as a cheese taco.
This version is based on the queso fundido I had at Nicos in Mexico City a few years back. The first time I went was with a group of local friends. I didn’t order, but rather happily ate whatever came to the table that they had ordered. The first thing that arrived was a cazuela of queso fundido topped with a mountain of fried parsley. I was stunned. I’d seen a lot of queso fundido in my time but never one like this. I loved the juxtaposition of the rich, dense cheese and the ethereal leaves of crispy fried parsley. It was literally something I wrote home about. I thought about that presentation many times and did my best to replicate it here.
Have your accoutrements and your appetite ready before melting the cheese in the oven and get ready to dig in. Just like you don’t walk away from a soufflé, you don’t walk away from queso fundido. Some things don’t get better with time.
The first thing to know about queso fundido is that it’s not “queso,” the creamy dip, often based on Velveeta, eaten with chips. Queso fundido, which translates to “melted cheese,” is just that: It’s melted cheese to which you can add sautéed mushrooms, poblano peppers or chorizo.
It must be eaten the moment it’s done, when the cheese is warm and stretchy. You spoon it out, take pictures of your cheese pull, and quickly put it in a corn or flour tortilla with whatever fixings you want — avocado, salsa, maybe a squeeze of lime. Think of it as a cheese taco.
This version is based on the queso fundido I had at Nicos in Mexico City a few years back. The first time I went was with a group of local friends. I didn’t order, but rather happily ate whatever came to the table that they had ordered. The first thing that arrived was a cazuela of queso fundido topped with a mountain of fried parsley. I was stunned. I’d seen a lot of queso fundido in my time but never one like this. I loved the juxtaposition of the rich, dense cheese and the ethereal leaves of crispy fried parsley. It was literally something I wrote home about. I thought about that presentation many times and did my best to replicate it here.
Have your accoutrements and your appetite ready before melting the cheese in the oven and get ready to dig in. Just like you don’t walk away from a soufflé, you don’t walk away from queso fundido. Some things don’t get better with time.
The first thing to know about queso fundido is that it’s not “queso,” the creamy dip, often based on Velveeta, eaten with chips. Queso fundido, which translates to “melted cheese,” is just that: It’s melted cheese to which you can add sautéed mushrooms, poblano peppers or chorizo.
It must be eaten the moment it’s done, when the cheese is warm and stretchy. You spoon it out, take pictures of your cheese pull, and quickly put it in a corn or flour tortilla with whatever fixings you want — avocado, salsa, maybe a squeeze of lime. Think of it as a cheese taco.
This version is based on the queso fundido I had at Nicos in Mexico City a few years back. The first time I went was with a group of local friends. I didn’t order, but rather happily ate whatever came to the table that they had ordered. The first thing that arrived was a cazuela of queso fundido topped with a mountain of fried parsley. I was stunned. I’d seen a lot of queso fundido in my time but never one like this. I loved the juxtaposition of the rich, dense cheese and the ethereal leaves of crispy fried parsley. It was literally something I wrote home about. I thought about that presentation many times and did my best to replicate it here.
Have your accoutrements and your appetite ready before melting the cheese in the oven and get ready to dig in. Just like you don’t walk away from a soufflé, you don’t walk away from queso fundido. Some things don’t get better with time.
The first thing to know about queso fundido is that it’s not “queso,” the creamy dip, often based on Velveeta, eaten with chips. Queso fundido, which translates to “melted cheese,” is just that: It’s melted cheese to which you can add sautéed mushrooms, poblano peppers or chorizo.
It must be eaten the moment it’s done, when the cheese is warm and stretchy. You spoon it out, take pictures of your cheese pull, and quickly put it in a corn or flour tortilla with whatever fixings you want — avocado, salsa, maybe a squeeze of lime. Think of it as a cheese taco.
This version is based on the queso fundido I had at Nicos in Mexico City a few years back. The first time I went was with a group of local friends. I didn’t order, but rather happily ate whatever came to the table that they had ordered. The first thing that arrived was a cazuela of queso fundido topped with a mountain of fried parsley. I was stunned. I’d seen a lot of queso fundido in my time but never one like this. I loved the juxtaposition of the rich, dense cheese and the ethereal leaves of crispy fried parsley. It was literally something I wrote home about. I thought about that presentation many times and did my best to replicate it here.
Have your accoutrements and your appetite ready before melting the cheese in the oven and get ready to dig in. Just like you don’t walk away from a soufflé, you don’t walk away from queso fundido. Some things don’t get better with time.
