On The Range is a weekly exploration of the history and lore of Texas menu items.
No matter that you haven't read the strip in many years, or even if you've
never perused the comic that has been a staple of the funny papers across
the country for over 70 years, you still probably know that Dagwood Bumstead snacks on impossibly tall sandwiches. Perhaps you've even eaten a
Dagwood sandwich yourself, wondering all the while how a man rapidly
approaching middle age can consume such humongous things.
Well, in Mexico, Dagwood's sandwich would be called a torta.
Famed Austin etymologist Barry Popik cites
numerous examples where a torta is described as a Mexican Poor Boy,
particularly in the States. But calling it a Mexican Dagwood
gets the point across better. Writing in the Los Angeles Times, Patricia Quintana and
Meg Rose agree--and describe a typical Mexico City street scene where the
overstuffed sandwiches are sold from push carts:
"Crowds clamor around the vendors, calling out their torta orders. The
kaleidoscope of fillings yelled out sounds like a roll call of Mexico City
delicacies....breaded veal and refried beans....scrambled eggs and chorizo
sausage....fresh squid in its ink."
In her article, "Cheap Eats: The Tasty and Affordable Mexican Torta," Abbey
Abanes speculates that the torta dates from the French occupation of Mexico,
roughly the time of America's Civil War. She suggests that Mexican bakers
were inspired by the French baguette to create the bolillo and the telera,
two loaves which differ primarily in shape--the bolillo being oval
and the telera being round. Both breads are crusty on the outside, soft on
the inside and, Abanes adds, "a great torta is defined by the bread
having enough texture to hold up, being soft enough to bite and large enough
to hold a plethora of ingredients."
That may have been the last known printed use of "plethora."
As is almost always the case in Mexican
cuisine, these ingredients vary by region and may include roast beef or
ham in Guadalajara, carne asada in Monterrey, or turkey in Tijuana.
Lettuce, tomato, onion, black or refried beans, avocado and/or
jalapenos,
may complete your sizable sandwich, which is sometimes dipped in thick
salsa
for extra spice.
If you try the tortas at tiny Tortas La Hechizara in Dallas, be sure and ask
for their potent salsa as well. Ask the proprietor for his
recommendation and you will be rewarded with the Torta Milanesa, which is
described as chicken-fried steak on the posted menu. The bolillo is properly
soft and chewy, the meat tender and the sandwich is indeed quite
substantial. But the Habanero-ish salsa takes it to another level
entirely, erupting like molten lava across your palate and leaving no taste
bud standing in its wake.
Salsa or no, the Torta Milanesa will no doubt
appeal to Dagwood.
