One of the afternoons we spent in Mexico City was at a cooking class where we learned to make churros. Shout out to Christian from the Churros and Chocolate master class on Airbnb! We had a blast and now I have all I need to start a churro-making business in Sydney. đđŹ
A little history for you
Fun fact: The churro is not a native Mexican dish, though you may find them on almost every street corner after dark. (And if you canât see them, you can most definitely smell the sugary goodness wafting from somewhere near). Instead there are a couple theories floating around as to how the churro came to be. Theory number one (and the one our churro-making instructor claims is the correct one), was that churros originated in China as a savoury pastry called youtiao, which then made its way to Europe via Portuguese traders. When they found their way to Spain, sugar was added and the conquistadors brought them across pond, because who doesnât want churros after spending the day conquering the New World?
The other theory is that nomadic Spanish shepherds created them, as it would have been much easier to fry dough over a fire than to build an oven and bake bread while traveling through the mountains. The Spanish Churra sheep that were later brought to the colonies (and were later renamed Navajo-Churro) may give some street cred to this theory. It could all be a coincidence, but more importantly, churros are delicious. So does it really matter where they come from, as long as they end up in your mouth? Moving on!
How to make a churro: the experience begins
After meeting Christian our instructor and the rest of our classmates (two other really nice couples) on the patio of a cute cafe, we were herded into the kitchen to begin making some extra things that would go alongside our churros: chilli-laced chocolate ganache and a rum-based drink that was described to be a bit like eggnog. I thought we were just making churros, so, bonus!
Our instructor gave us all different tasks so everyone was involved â some were melting milk and dark chocolates and mixing them with chilis (Justin and I love spice and couldnât help but notice we saw only a pinch went into the bowl), and others were mixing ingredients for the rum drink, for which I was making a simple syrup and some caramel. I lucked out because I got to stand near the stove and keep warm.
Once those were out of the way, we got down to business. Flour, eggs, and milk came together and had to be mixed, mixed, mixed, then mixed some more. Christian would come by periodically and add more flour to your bowl if it wasnât thick or mixed enough. When you thought you were done he would come back with more flour. More mixing! We were only given a fork (surely this wasnât how they did it in Spain?) so it ended up being a bit of a workout. Suddenly I regret being next to the stove.
Once everyoneâs arms were appropriately sore, we were able to take a break. And by take a break, I mean a break from mixing. There was still work to do, but by comparison it was a cake walk, or churro walk, if you will. We scooped the dough into piping bags, piped churro shapes into oil bubbling over a stove (use a large star tip for appropriately chonky churros!), then tossed them in cinnamon and sugar. The sugar part is optional, but definitely recommended.
We had made a lot of dough, so much in fact that we were able to make the tallest tower of churros in the history of the class. Any broken ones, or those that couldnât contribute to the structural integrity of the churro tower were sacrificed eaten. And for testing purposes, of course, so it would have been even taller. Christian was just as excited as we were while we assembled it and periodically you could hear him going âoooooohâ or getting out his tape measure.
Sweet success… I mean churros
There were a few nail-biting moments during the assembly when things started wobbling, so of course our group felt pretty damn accomplished once the last churro was placed and our tower complete. We all took photos of our masterpiece then promptly pulled it apart.
We took the churros to the patio outside, sipped our rum cocktails (it did taste a bit like eggnog), dipped the still warm-ish churros in chocolate, and begged the participants of the coffee-tasting class we met afterwards and anyone that passed by to help us make a dent in them. Even then, I donât think we made it half way.
We left with bags full of churros, and recipes for everything we had made. All in all it was a fantastic class with an awesome instructor, although it did take a few days before I could even look at another churro again.
If you end up in Mexico City and find simply eating churros to be boring, learn how to make them instead! And also eat them. You can find the experience on Airbnb here.
A quick note about actually where to find it: The cafe is on a street in Col. JuĂĄrez where there is a market most days, but the day we happened to be there the market was closed… and subsequently the gate that lets you in to the alleyway where the cafe is located. Just ask the guard about the churro class and heâll open it up for you.
