Skillet Huevos Ahogados en Pasilla: Morning Comfort, Brooklyn Style
Listen, some mornings call for cereal, and some mornings call for a breakfast that actually hugs you back from the inside. This Skillet Huevos Ahogados en Pasilla is my go-to when I want Oaxacan soul without spending all morning at the stove. Back in Oaxaca, my tía would make huevos ahogados—drowned eggs—whenever the market had good tomatoes and dried chiles to spare. Here in Brooklyn, with two kids tugging at my apron strings before school, I streamlined it into a one-skillet wonder. We are not suffering for dinner, and we sure aren't suffering for breakfast. We blister our tomatoes, toast that earthy pasilla chile until it smells like heaven, and let the broth do the heavy lifting while we prep. Drop in your eggs, nestle in some ribbons of quesillo so they get all melty and stretchy, and let it ride. Taste it—then decide if it needs more salt. Finish it with pickled onions because acid wakes the whole dish up. If you cannot find quesillo at your bodega, low-moisture mozzarella or even Monterey Jack will step up to the plate. Ándale, let's eat.
Featured Recipe
Skillet Huevos Ahogados en Pasilla (Oaxacan Poached Eggs in Smoky Tomato Broth with Melted Quesillo)
A soul-soothing Oaxacan breakfast where eggs poach gently in a blistered tomato-pasilla sauce laced with diced calabacitas and ribbons of melting quesillo. Finished with bright pickled onions and fresh cilantro, this one-skillet wonder turns pantry staples into pure morning comfort.
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Timeline
Ingredients
- 2 dried pasilla chiles(stemmed and seeded (Bodega Mode: sub 1 ancho chile plus 1 chipotle in adobo))
- 4 medium Roma tomatoes(halved (or 1 14-oz can fire-roasted diced tomatoes))
- 1/2 medium white onion(cut into thick wedges)
- 3 garlic cloves(peeled)
- 1 cup vegetable or chicken broth(low-sodium, plus tantito extra if needed)
- 2 tbsp olive oil(divided)
- 1 small zucchini (calabacita)(cut into 1/4-inch dice (about 1 cup))
- 1/2 tsp dried Mexican oregano(crushed between your palms)
- 1 fresh epazote sprig(or 3 fresh cilantro sprigs if epazote is hard to find)
- 1 tsp kosher salt(plus more to taste)
- 4 large eggs(cold from the fridge for cleaner cracking)
- 4 oz Oaxacan quesillo(shredded into ribbons (Bodega Mode: whole-milk low-moisture mozzarella or string cheese))
- 8 corn tortillas(warmed on the comal for serving)
- 1/4 cup quick pickled red onions(for topping)
- 1 avocado(sliced)
- 1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves(roughly chopped)
- 1 lime(cut into wedges for serving)
Instructions
- 1
Set a 10- or 12-inch cast iron or heavy skillet over medium-high heat. Drop in 2 dried pasilla chiles and press them flat with your spatula for 10 to 15 seconds per side until fragrant and slightly blistered—do not let them scorch or your salsa will turn bitter. Transfer the chiles directly into your blender jar.
2 min
Tip: Pasilla gives you that moody, raisin-dark richness without setting your palate on fire before your first sip of coffee.
- 2
In the same dry, screaming skillet, lay 4 medium Roma tomatoes cut-side down along with 1/2 medium white onion and 3 garlic cloves. Char undisturbed for 4 to 5 minutes until blackened in spots, then flip and blister the other sides for 2 minutes. Tip everything into the blender with the toasted chiles.
6 min
Tip: Those charred black specks are deliberate flavor freckles; they give Oaxacan salsa that distinctive comal smoke.
- 3
Pour 1 cup vegetable or chicken broth and 1/2 tsp kosher salt into the blender with the charred vegetables. Puree on high speed for 60 to 90 seconds until silky smooth. Taste it—then decide if it needs a pinch more salt right now before it hits the hot fat.
2 min
Tip: If your blender needs help catching, splash in 2 tablespoons of water, but keep it thick—it will loosen when simmered.
- 4
Return the skillet to medium heat and warm 1 tbsp olive oil. Add 1 small zucchini (calabacita) with a pinch of 1/4 tsp kosher salt. Sauté for 3 minutes until tender-crisp and lightly golden on the edges.
3 min
Tip: Mom math: doing this quick sauté gives the dish sweet vegetable crunch so the poached eggs aren't sitting in flat broth.
- 5
Drizzle the remaining 1 tbsp olive oil around the zucchini, then pour in the blended pasilla salsa. It will hiss and sputter aggressively—that's the classic salsa frita sear unlocking the sugars. Stir in 1/2 tsp dried Mexican oregano and submerge 1 fresh epazote sprig. Bring to a hearty simmer for 3 minutes until slightly deepened in color and thickened.
3 min
Tip: If the sauce gets too tight, splash in a couple tablespoons of broth; you want a gentle poaching bath, not paste.
- 6
Turn heat to medium-low. Use the back of a spoon to create 4 shallow nests in the bubbling sauce. Crack 4 large eggs directly into the indentations, one by one. Season the top of each yolk with the remaining 1/4 tsp kosher salt. Tuck 4 oz Oaxacan quesillo into the pockets between and around the eggs.
2 min
Tip: Crack each egg into a small teacup first if you want zero shell drama while the sauce bubbles.
- 7
Cover the skillet tightly with a lid or a sheet of aluminum foil. Let gently simmer over low heat for 4 to 5 minutes, until the whites are fully opaque and set, the yolks are still soft and jammy, and the quesillo is gloriously melted and stretchy. Meanwhile, warm 8 corn tortillas on a dry comal or skillet and keep them wrapped warm in a clean kitchen towel.
5 min
Tip: Do not wander off to check your phone—eggs go from velvety jammy to hard-boiled in under a minute.
- 8
Remove skillet from heat. Scatter 1/4 cup quick pickled red onions, 1 avocado cut into slices, and 1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves over the top. Serve immediately right out of the skillet with 1 lime cut into wedges for squeezing and the hot tortillas for scooping.
2 min
Tip: The bright hit of lime and pickled onion cuts straight through the richness of the yolk and quesillo. That finishing move wakes up the whole table.
Chef's Notes
In Oaxaca, huevos ahogados (eggs drowned in rich salsa) are the quiet, everyday cure for tired mornings. We are not suffering for breakfast: toasting whole dried pasilla right in the dry skillet takes 30 seconds and injects deep, smoky, almost chocolatey richness into basic tomatoes. Bodega Mode: If you can't find Oaxacan quesillo, use whole-milk low-moisture mozzarella or even quality string cheese pulled apart into thin strings—it melts with that exact same buttery pull. If pasilla chiles aren't on the shelf, swap in 1 dried ancho chile plus 1 canned chipotle pepper in adobo sauce. If epazote is elusive, fresh cilantro stems tied in a bundle give a bright, earthy lift.
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.