Nachos Al Pastor — The Flavor That Brings Everyone to the Table

The week after your birthday is always a little flat. The cake is gone, the cards are in the recycling, and you're back to being just a guy who has to get up early and run film. Thirty-eight. I keep saying it to see if it sounds different than thirty-seven. It doesn't. My shoulder still clicks when I reach for the cabinet, my knees still talk back on cold mornings, and I still burn my toast because I walk away from it. Nothing about thirty-eight is new information.

Lisa made carne adovada for my birthday dinner last week — her version, which she has quietly perfected over the years without admitting she's been taking notes from my mother. Red chile pork braised until it falls apart, served over rice with a fried egg on top because the Medina way is to never leave a protein alone. The twins ate it with their whole faces. Sofia picked out the pieces that looked too spicy and ate those first, as a kind of challenge to herself. Diego asked for seconds before he finished his first plate, which is the highest compliment in this house.

Offseason coaching is its own particular grind. No games, no fans, no scoreboard — just the invisible work of building something. I'm in film three days a week, out recruiting at games two more, and somewhere in there I'm supposed to be a husband and a father and a person who remembers to call his parents. I called my dad on Sunday and we talked for forty minutes about the upcoming NFL draft class and the price of gasoline. Hector doesn't talk about his health unless you ask directly, and sometimes not even then. I asked. He said he was fine. I said good. We both knew the conversation we weren't having.

Denver in late February is the month where winter pretends it's almost over and then changes its mind. We got three inches of snow on Tuesday and it was sixty-two degrees by Thursday. The kids have given up trying to dress for the weather and are wearing everything at once. The twins look like small burritos. I find this hilarious. Lisa does not find this hilarious because she's the one doing laundry.

I made posole this week — hominy and pork and red chile, slow-simmered all afternoon while the snow came down and Diego ran routes in the backyard between storms. The house smelled like a Sunday in Las Cruces. Some smells are time machines, and posole is one of mine. I put the pot in the center of the table and we all ate out of it with torn tortillas, and for about twenty minutes nobody was fighting about homework or screen time. Posole has that effect. It demands presence. You can't eat it without slowing down.

The posole carried us through the snow and the silence, but a few days later the twins were bouncing off the walls and the mood in the house needed something louder — something with heat and pineapple and the kind of crunch that makes Diego laugh before he even takes a bite. Nachos Al Pastor are what I make when I want the energy of a table where everyone’s grabbing at the same plate. It’s messy and communal and unapologetically good, which is basically the Medina family in food form.

Nachos Al Pastor

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 45 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

• 1 1/2 lbs boneless pork shoulder, sliced thin
• 3 tablespoons achiote paste
• 2 tablespoons white vinegar
• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1 teaspoon dried oregano
• 1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
• 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
• 1 cup fresh pineapple, diced small
• 12 oz sturdy restaurant-style tortilla chips
• 2 cups shredded Oaxacan cheese (or Monterey Jack)
• 1 cup shredded sharp cheddar
• 1/2 white onion, finely diced
• 1 jalapeño, sliced thin
• 1/2 cup sour cream
• 1/2 cup salsa verde or tomatillo salsa
• 1/4 cup fresh cilantro leaves
• 2 limes, cut into wedges

Instructions

1. Marinate the pork. In a bowl, whisk together the achiote paste, white vinegar, vegetable oil, cumin, oregano, smoked paprika, garlic powder, and salt until smooth. Add the sliced pork and toss to coat thoroughly. Let marinate at room temperature for at least 15 minutes, or refrigerate up to 24 hours for deeper flavor.
2. Cook the al pastor. Heat a cast-iron skillet or heavy pan over medium-high heat. Cook the pork in a single layer, working in batches if needed, for 3–4 minutes per side until caramelized and cooked through. In the last 2 minutes, add the diced pineapple to the pan and let it char slightly. Transfer everything to a cutting board and chop roughly into bite-sized pieces.
3. Preheat and layer the chips. Preheat oven to 400°F. Spread half the tortilla chips in an even layer on a large rimmed baking sheet or oven-safe platter. Scatter half the Oaxacan cheese and half the cheddar over the chips. Add a second layer of chips, then the remaining cheese.
4. Add the al pastor and bake. Scatter the chopped al pastor pork and charred pineapple evenly over the top layer of chips and cheese. Bake for 10–12 minutes until the cheese is fully melted and the edges of the chips begin to deepen in color.
5. Finish and serve. Remove from the oven and immediately top with diced onion, jalapeño slices, and fresh cilantro. Drizzle with sour cream and salsa verde. Serve the lime wedges on the side and bring the whole pan to the table.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 540 | Protein: 31g | Fat: 28g | Carbs: 42g | Fiber: 3g | Sodium: 780mg