Sopa De Fideo con Pollo e Memorias

My childhood kitchen was the place where magic began, and the children begged for more. The kitchen that remained meticulously clean and eggshell white had survived intake between me and my siblings whenever we snuck in and grabbed snacks as Ama (Mom) and Apa (Dad) cooked.  

While the competition between my Mexican Ama and Salvadorean/Honduran Apa was filled with blended Spanish dialects and slang, it was also filled with their dedication to put the best of themselves into their craft of cooking. The smell of Mom’s own version of Sopa De Fideo (noodle soup) sticks in my nose forever. 

Dad was careful and graceful when it came to handling the knife and cutting the fat off the meat or chicken that Mom would use in her dish later. And Mom, a master with seasonings and aromatics. Yet what made her food so good was the love they had in that small eggshell white kitchen with Mexican tiles. Not to mention the tiny white and beige chihuahua that would get the first bites whenever Ama wasn’t looking.  

She’d make Sopa De Fideo when me and my sisters were feeling sick, or when Dad came home exhausted from welding iron together. She’d make it when the temperature dropped in Maryland, or when it was the hottest day of the summer, or when the grandkids came by to visit. I’d always sneak an extra bite when she sat with Dad to watch the news. My mother learned how to make all that she knows from my Abuelita, as for Hispanics our grandmothers and grandfathers are a giant part of our lives from our first breath to their last breath on this earth.  

It's a soup that is not only a staple of my Mexican heritage, but also a vibrant marker of my childhood in Maryland. It comes from generations of brewing, chopping, and Spanish conversations between mother and daughter. Even in the times where it was just me, my chihuahua and Abuelita, the fideo was always warm and ready to have with chunks of rotisserie chicken or Mom's own cooked chicken.  

When Ama made Sopa de fideo, she always made it priority to have the noodles done first, breaking them in the bag then browning them in oil with garlic and onion. It’s a simple dish that didn’t require many ingredients, but the secret to making it delicious, she told me, was stirring. Even if you had one million things to do, fideo needed that love to make everything come together.

Even as I’m here in New Zealand, that Sopa De Fideo remains steadfast in my chest with the tinge of citrus lime gracing my tongue every now and then. The warmth and memories flood me in a broth like fluid and cradle me gently.  

“Tantas fotos llenando los marcos, mi propio museo 

No hay muchos trofeos 

Con ustedes tengo 

Y aunque te lleve en la sangre, me duele sentirte tan lejos 

Destellas el cielo 

Y ahora te celebro”

“So many photos filling the frameworks, my own museum 

There not a lot of trophies  

With you it’s enough 

Even though I carry you in my blood, it hurts to feel you so far away 

You illuminate the sky  

And now I celebrate you”  

— Fantasmas by Humbe  

Ama’s Sopa De Fideo Recipe 

1 tsp. Oil 

8 oz (about 236.59 ml). Angel Hair Pasta (Goya) break to desired length. 

1 can or 3 freshly diced tomatoes 

½ white onion chopped  

2-3 diced garlic cloves  

5 cups chicken stock or chicken bouillon  

1 rotisserie chicken (legs, breast, or wings) 

1 lime cut into halves or quarters 

Fresh Cilantro 

Steps: 

1. In a medium pot add your chicken bouillon or chicken stock boiling hot and set aside. 

2. Set a large pot to medium heat and add oil and one diced garlic clove. Once oil is hot and garlic is fragrant, break angel hair pasta and add in. Cook until noodles are golden brown, about 2-3 minutes.  

3. Place freshly diced tomatoes, 2 garlic cloves, 2 cups of bouillon or stock into a blender and blend until smooth.  

4. Strain mixture into the golden noodles still in the hot pot. Stir constantly to prevent sticking. 

5. Let the mixtures simmer for 1 minute. Add the rest of the stock or bouillon and set heat to high. Add rotisserie chicken (shredded or chunks your preference really) and cook golden noodles until al dente. Stir often and add salt & pepper to taste. 

6. Serve with halves or quarter limes and some springs of cilantro (preferably Fresh please coming from a Mexican mom).