
20-Minute Blistered Seta Dobladas: The Friday Night Savior
Listen to me. By Friday at 6 PM, the mom math says we're too tired to cook, but nobody wants to wait an hour for delivery. That's when I pull out my secret weapon: Seta Dobladas. Growing up, my abuela made dobladas—simple folded tacos crisped on the comal—whenever we needed something fast, cheap, and deeply satisfying. In my Brooklyn kitchen, I've adapted them for maximum payoff with minimum tears. You're going to take oyster mushrooms (setas), tear them by hand, and hard-blister them in a screaming hot pan. Tearing instead of slicing gives them this incredible, meaty chew that hits all the right comfort notes. Stuff them into corn tortillas with a handful of Oaxaca cheese and let them get golden and melty on the edges. What makes this special? It's real Oaxacan comfort food that respects your weeknight reality. Bodega Mode: No Oaxaca cheese? Low-moisture mozzarella or string cheese works beautifully. Can't find oyster mushrooms? Sliced cremini work, just let them cook until the water evaporates. Hit it with whatever salsa you have in the fridge and a sharp squeeze of lime to wake the whole dish up. Taste it—then decide. We're not suffering for dinner tonight! Ándale, let's eat.
Featured Recipe

20-Minute Blistered Seta Dobladas (Friday Night Folded Tacos)
Listen, by Friday at 6 PM, nobody wants to cook, but nobody wants to wait an hour for delivery either. Enter the doblada: a crispy, folded taco stuffed with hard-blistered oyster mushrooms and melted Oaxaca cheese. Tearing the mushrooms and blistering them fast gives you this incredible, meaty chew that hits all the right comfort notes.
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Ingredients
- 1 lb oyster mushrooms (setas)(torn into thick strips, never chopped)
- 1 poblano pepper(stemmed, seeded, and thinly sliced)
- 1/2 red onion(thinly sliced)
- 2 cloves garlic(smashed and roughly chopped)
- 3 tbsp avocado oil(divided; or any neutral high-heat oil)
- 1 tbsp soy sauce(Maggi seasoning works great too if you have it)
- 1/2 tsp dried Mexican oregano
- 12 corn tortillas(the freshest you can find)
- 2 cups Queso Oaxaca(shredded; Bodega swap: low-moisture mozzarella or Monterey Jack)
- 1/2 cup Mexican crema(sour cream works in a pinch)
- 1 tbsp chipotle in adobo(sauce only, or finely minced if you like it spicy)
- 1 lime(halved)
- 1 pinch kosher salt(plus more to taste)
Instructions
- 1
Heat a large dry cast-iron skillet over medium-high heat. Tear 1 lb oyster mushrooms into thick strips and drop them straight into the dry pan. Leave them alone! We want a hard, aggressive dry-blister so they squeak and get meaty, not soggy. Don't touch them for at least 3 minutes.
5 min
Tip: If you add oil immediately, oyster mushrooms act like sponges and get mushy. Dry-blistering is the Oaxacan secret to perfect texture.
- 2
While the mushrooms sear, thinly slice 1 poblano pepper and 1/2 red onion. Smash and chop 2 cloves garlic. In a small bowl, quickly mix together 1/2 cup Mexican crema, 1 tbsp chipotle in adobo, the juice of 1/2 lime, and 1 pinch kosher salt.
4 min
Tip: This is mom-math: let the pan do the work while you handle the cutting board.
- 3
Once the mushrooms have deep, crispy brown edges, drizzle 2 tbsp avocado oil into the pan. Immediately toss in the sliced poblano, red onion, and garlic. Toss constantly until the peppers blister and soften.
4 min
Tip: The oil will smoke a little when it hits the hot pan—that's exactly what you want to blister the peppers quickly.
- 4
Pour in 1 tbsp soy sauce (my secret umami shortcut for bringing out the meatiness of setas) and crush 1/2 tsp dried Mexican oregano between your palms directly into the pan. Toss for 1 minute until the liquid mostly evaporates. Scrape the entire filling into a bowl.
1 min
Tip: Taste it—then decide if it needs salt. Soy sauce and cheese add a lot of sodium, so hold off on extra salt until you taste the finished taco.
- 5
Lower the skillet heat to medium. Wipe the pan lightly if there are burnt bits, then add the remaining 1 tbsp avocado oil. Working in batches, lay down the 12 corn tortillas. Scatter a handful of the 2 cups Queso Oaxaca onto each tortilla. Add a generous spoonful of the mushroom mix to one side, then FOLD them over into half-moons. Press down gently with a spatula and cook until shatteringly crisp on both sides and melted inside. Serve hot with the chipotle crema and the remaining 1/2 lime cut into wedges.
10 min
Tip: Folding them in the pan traps the steam from the filling just long enough to make the tortilla pliable before the oil crisps it up.
Chef's Notes
We are not suffering for dinner, even on a tired Friday. If you have a Mexican market nearby, look for 'Setas' (oyster mushrooms)—they are much cheaper in large clusters there. If you're in Bodega Mode, regular cremini mushrooms work too, just slice them thick and definitely don't skip the dry-blistering step.
María “Mari” Santiago
Oaxacan comfort, Brooklyn shortcuts, weeknight bright.
María “Mari” Santiago was born in Oaxaca, where her earliest kitchen memories are measured in scent: chiles toasting on a comal, cinnamon and chocolate blooming in mole, and the warm, nutty snap of a tlayuda folded in half for the walk home. She learned by watching—first her tías, then her abuela—picking up the small, practical rules that never made it into written recipes: how to tell when the garlic is *just* right, how to rescue a too-spicy salsa, and why you always taste the broth before you add the salt. Now in Brooklyn, Mari cooks the food she grew up on while raising two little kids and juggling real-life time limits. Her style is “real flavor, real life”: traditional Oaxacan and everyday Mexican dishes—moles, caldos, frijoles, enfrijoladas, salsas, and crispy tlayudas—made weeknight-friendly with smart shortcuts, brighter salsas, and more vegetables without losing the soul of the dish. She’s not precious about rules, she’s big on swaps, and she’s on a mission to prove that you can cook deeply flavorful Mexican food with what you can actually find at a normal grocery store (and still get dinner on the table before a meltdown). Mari’s recipes read like a friend texting you from the produce aisle: clear, funny, and unpretentious, with a side of abuela wisdom. If there’s a hard-to-find ingredient, she gives you a realistic alternative, tells you what will change (and what won’t), and keeps the focus where it belongs—on food that tastes like home, even when home is a small Brooklyn kitchen.