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Classic Pico de Gallo -- The Soup Needed a Little Something Extra

March moving toward April. The Pilsen apartment is becoming real in my head — I have a floorplan, I have been measuring furniture at the Goodwill, I have a list on my phone of things to acquire before May 15th. Mrs. Orozco called this week to tell me the bathroom was getting a new towel bar, which is the kind of communication I was not expecting but appreciated. She also said the neighbor on the first floor, a woman named Claudia who has lived there for fifteen years, "makes noise but is very nice." I appreciate the warning.

Applied for the new teacher certification requirements with the state — there is a series of paperwork to get through before I can actually stand in a classroom legally, even though I have already stood in one for four months. The bureaucracy of public school teaching is something no one adequately prepares you for in your education courses. I spent five hours on the ISBE website this week. I have a new appreciation for the teachers who get through the system and come out still wanting to teach.

Made taco soup this week — ground beef, canned corn, canned black beans, canned diced tomatoes, taco seasoning, chicken broth. Brown the beef, add everything, simmer thirty minutes. Under three fifty for a pot that fed me for four days. Taco soup is the meeting point of laziness and deliciousness: you open cans and heat things up and what you get is something better than the sum of its parts.

Ate it in Patty's kitchen three nights running. On the third night Patty looked in the pot and said "Is there more?" and I said yes and she got a bowl. We ate it together watching a show Patty wanted to see. The weeks I have spent at home since December have not always been easy — I am twenty-three and living with my parents, which has its specific discomforts — but mostly they have been good. Mostly they have been soup together in the kitchen, which is not the worst way to spend a winter.

The taco soup was already doing its job — cheap, filling, and somehow greater than the sum of its canned parts — but by night three in Patty’s kitchen, I wanted to bring something a little brighter to the table. A handful of fresh pico on top is the difference between a bowl of soup and a bowl of soup that feels like you tried. It also costs almost nothing, which, when you’re measuring secondhand furniture and budgeting for a May move-in, matters. Here’s the classic pico I stirred together to finish off those bowls.

Classic Pico de Gallo

Prep Time: 10 minutes | Cook Time: 0 minutes | Total Time: 10 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 4 Roma tomatoes, diced small
  • 1/2 white onion, finely diced
  • 1 jalapeño, seeded and minced
  • 1/2 cup fresh cilantro, roughly chopped
  • 2 cloves garlic, minced
  • Juice of 1 lime
  • 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
  • 1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Instructions

  1. Dice the tomatoes. Halve the Roma tomatoes, remove the seeds and watery pulp with a spoon, then dice into small, even pieces. This keeps the pico from getting watery.
  2. Prep the aromatics. Finely dice the onion and mince the jalapeño and garlic. For less heat, remove all jalapeño seeds and ribs; for more heat, leave some in.
  3. Combine. Add the tomatoes, onion, jalapeño, garlic, and cilantro to a medium bowl. Toss gently to combine.
  4. Season. Squeeze the lime juice over the top, add salt and pepper, and stir to coat everything evenly.
  5. Rest and taste. Let the pico sit for 5 minutes to allow the flavors to come together, then taste and adjust salt or lime as needed. Serve immediately or refrigerate for up to 3 days.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 18 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 4g | Fiber: 1g | Sodium: 100mg

Amanda Kowalczyk
About the cook who shared this
Amanda Kowalczyk
Week 104 of Amanda’s 30-year story · Chicago, Illinois
Amanda is a special ed teacher in Chicago, a mom of three-year-old twins, and a woman who lost her best friend to a fentanyl overdose at twenty-one. She cooks on a budget that would make a Whole Foods cashier weep — feeding a family of four for under seventy-five dollars a week — because she believes good food doesn't require a fancy kitchen or a fancy paycheck. She finished Babcia Rose's gołąbki after the funeral because that's what Babcia would have wanted. That's who Amanda is.

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