These sweet corn muffins are exactly what they sound like—basic, dependable, and not trying to impress anyone. Cornmeal, flour, sugar, butter for flavoring. That’s it. No honey, no weird spice blends, and absolutely no artisanal nonsense.
There is no such thing. It’s entirely subjective. A corn muffin is a cornmuffin is a corn muffin. Sure, there are variations—sweet, savory, spiked withpeppers or sausage or cheese. Honestly, they’re all pretty damn good. Whatmakes a corn muffin the best is you and how hungry you are. So when yousee food bloggers advertise the “best” whateverthefuck recipe ever, they arelying to you.
So. Here we are. Two years of trying to restore my sanity by embracing the insane. I cook. I think. I write. I make videos. I work a day job. And I’m more or less happy, finally. Likewise, if this never works out and I’m never successful with it, I’ve already won because I did it. Anything from now on is gravy.
Meet Chalupa Cabra—a beast of a stew that doesn’t suck goats. This unapologetically rich braise leans hard into the Mexican flavor wheel: smoky Ancho and Pasilla chiles, warm spices, garlic, brown sugar, tomato paste, with hits of vinegar and citrus to keep it honest.
This is my not-at-all-traditional, white guy version of Navajo fry bread, developed specifically to cradle my Chalupa Cabra—goat stew meets taco night. It’s inspired by the real deal, but makes no claims to authenticity.
I’m trying to figure out my next move. I’m really looking forward to making Chalupa Cabra, but I’m having trouble sourcing goat meat—specifically goat shanks. I can buy a whole goat, no problem, but that’s a little rich for my blood.
