For maximum joy and cheer, fly between December 24 and January 1. The strip search and pat down by security kicks off the festivities.

Each seat in the plane has been sold to two people. Snickers and knowing looks go round the waiting area with the free ticket offer (good for one year) in exchange for taking a later flight. All the later flights will also be double booked. Music wafts by…. I’ll be home for Christmas, if only in my dreams….

The arms of at least one young thing are too thin to lift her over-stuffed carry-on to the overhead bin. At least one hero pops a hernia failing to squeeze it in. Babies wail and cry in bursts from all directions. Of course Son joins in: “I hate babies.”

As we troop off in search of our connection and breathable air, the stews and pilots cluster at the door to spit-spray a germy parting gift: “Thank you for choosing USAir. We appreciate your business.”

Adding to these pleasures, a nor’easter shut down various airports along the eastern seaboard the week we travelled. Getting home required a change of planes at the one where stranded people pitched tents for three days. Staffers roasting over open fires, Jack Frost nipping at your nose... I didn’t sleep for worrying, which cleared the snow. We flew home without incident.

Home, sweet home! What was the first thing I cooked in my kitchen that was no-effort, tasty and welcome-homey? What else? Mexican chicken-and-tortilla soup.

Tangy tomato-ey red and smoky from chipotles, with a lingering heat at the back of the throat. Loaded with sprig-green cilantro. Lime juice bright. Tender white chicken pieces, surfacing and submerging with every spoonful. A golden garnish of crunchy, corn-y tortilla chips, toothsome and surprising.

A steaming bowl whisks me south to the sun faster than you can say plane— I mean, Playa. Del Carmen. And hey! It’s chicken soup! The kiss that banishes all boo-boos.

Start with a frozen chicken. No need to thaw. Throw it in the crock pot. Fill with filtered water. Add a quartered onion or leek, along with the stems from a bunch of fresh, or frozen cilantro. (Or, if no stems, a good handful of chopped cilantro.) A dash of salt. Cover.

Set the time for 4 to 6 to 8 hours, however many hours you have other things to do. Such as nap. Catch up on your favorite blogs. Play with Poodle-Oodle. At some point, when you feel like fooling around on the cooktop, proceed with the recipe.

Let it snow!

Mexican Chicken-And-Tortilla Soup

1 package of 12 corn tortillas,* cut into quarters
2.5 teaspoons kosher salt (1 teaspoon for the chips above)
1 chicken
4 medium white onions, chopped; or 2 huge, or 4 regular leeks, chopped
2 garlic cloves minced
2 teaspoons dried Mexican oregano+ (regular dried oregano works fine too)
1 bunch fresh cilantro stems*, chopped
1 (or more, to taste) canned chipotle in adobo,* minced, with 0.5 teaspoon sauce
1 (28 ounce) can diced tomatoes (or a can of whole tomatoes, diced)
6 cups filtered water
0.5 cup chopped scallions
0.5 cup chopped fresh cilantro*
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
1 teaspoon minced garlic (in addition to the 2 cloves above)

Throw the chicken in the crock pot with half of the onions/leeks, cilantro stems, water and a little salt. Set timer for 4 to 8 hours. Remove the chicken with tongs to a platter to cool. Strain the stock through a sieve and reserve for step 4 below.
In a stock or spaghetti pot, heat two tablespoons oil over medium heat. Add remaining chopped onions/leeks and 2 cloves minced garlic and sweat for about four minutes, till onions are translucent and tender.
Add the oregano and 1 teaspoon salt and stir to coat the onions/garlic.
Stir in the chipotle and sauce, tomatoes and strained chicken stock. Reduce the heat, partially cover, and simmer while you cut up the chicken.
Skin the chicken. (Discard the skin.) The meat should be falling off the bones. If not, no problem. You’re throwing it back into the pot anyway. Debone the chicken, cutting the meat along the fibers into bite-sized pieces. Toss into the simmering stock.
Add the scallions, lime juice, chopped cilantro, 1 teaspoon minced garlic and simmer for a couple of minutes to heat through. Adjust salt to taste.
Serve with broken, corn tortilla chips, and a dash of hot sauce, if the chipotle isn’t hot enough for you.

Home Made Tortilla Chips (Once you tasted these, there’s no going back to store bought.)

Heat the 4 cups oil. To test if it’s hot enough, toss in one piece of tortilla. If it sizzles actively (300 to 400 degrees Fahrenheit, by a candy thermometer), the oil is ready. If not, wait until the tortilla sizzles actively.
Add the quartered tortillas in batches. Fry until golden brown, turning once. Tongs work best. The chips cook up fast!
Remove. Drain on paper towels. (If the chips are greasy, your oil is not hot enough. If the oil is hot enough, your chips will be dry, and crazy crunchy.)
Place in a bowl or bag, and sprinkle with salt to taste. Break up a few into a bowl of soup. Enjoy!

Vegetarian Version:

Eliminate the chicken, use six cups of vegetable stock or filtered water, and proceed blithely forth. This cooks up in under 30 minutes!

Questions Anyone?

So I’ve used one or two chipotles from the can. What do I do with the rest? Throw them out? No! If you’re like me, you’re going to be making this soup frequently. Transfer the left over chipotles into a jam jar you’ve saved. If no jar, use a zip lock baggie. Label and store in fridge. They keep for weeks and weeks. (Ladle a little soup into the can to swish the last delicious residue into the pot.)
What if I get more than 2 tablespoons of juice out of the lime? Toss it all in! No worries.
How do I cut up the tortillas? Cut straight across the circumference. Next, cut each half-moon piece in half, and voila! Chip shapes. Kitchen shears work best. But you can slice with a knife too. Two or three at a time.
I have left over cilantro. What now? How much? A little? Toss it in the soup! If you have lots, chop it up, leaves and stems, stuff in a freezer zip lock baggie, and freeze. Label the baggie. (You can do this will all herbs. Labeling helps to tell all those little green baggies apart.)
There were more than 12 corn tortillas in the pack. Fry them all up? What a question. Is there such a thing as too many chips? I have people begging me to make these babies. I give them away as gifts.
What about tortillas that are a flour/corn mix? I prefer all-corn myself, but what the heck, try them.

(Recipe adapted from The Daily Soup Cookbook by Leslie Kaul, Bob Spiegel, Carla Ruben, and Peter Siegel with Robin Vitetta-Miller; Hyperion; New York. Excellent soup cookbook!)

*Available at my, and probably your local supermarket, in the ethnic food aisle.

PHOTO CREDITS: tanja555 (In The Plane) and mine (Bowl Of Mexican Chicken And Tortilla Soup)