My sure-fire breakfast on a bleak weekend morning? Migas at La Guadalupana (2109 Dunlavy, 713-522-2301), along with a cup of cafe de olla and a tall glass of jamaica. There's very little not to love about this breakfast, especially if you treat yourself to a bite from pastry case afterward.
Is there a standard recipe for migas? If there is, I don't want to know it. That's my favorite thing about this Mexican breakfast dish, long since adapted to Texan tastes, which takes leftovers -- much like chilaquiles does -- and transforms them into a comforting, hearty morning meal. The migas at La Guadalupana are certainly unique, but that could be said of any migas dish anywhere: The recipe depends totally upon the restaurant and who's doing the cooking.
At La Guadalupana, the corn tortillas that -- along with scrambled eggs -- form the base of the meal are diced and fried until crispy. In that way, they remind me of the migas my stepfather always made for breakfast, but with a finer dice on the tortillas. But that's where the similarities end. At home, migas was just tortillas and eggs cooked together in a skillet, topped with ketchup (hey, we were poor). Here, the dish also includes diced tomatoes, onions, jalapenos and plenty of chorizo.
We Believe Local Journalism is Critical to the Life of a City
Engaging with our readers is essential to the mission of the Houston Press. Make a financial contribution or sign up for a newsletter, and help us keep telling Houston’s stories with no paywalls.
Support Our Journalism
Refried beans are an essential side item to this dish, however, which is always just a bit in need of salt. The pork fat the beans are cooked down with adds that necessary saltiness into the mix. Make a taco with the tortillas that are served on the side -- smeared with beans, of course, and some fiery salsa verde if you're feeling cocky -- and you've got one of the best breakfasts in Houston for $6.95.
La Guadalupana sells its cafe de olla -- cinnamon-flavored coffee -- by the pound in paper bags next to the register. Like the pastries, it's an in-house creation, and the unlimited refills when you're dining in will quickly get you hooked on the stuff. And even though I don't have much of a sweet tooth, I can't pass up a glass of sugary jamaica every time I eat here. Both drinks are oddly addictive.
I also rarely pass up a pastry. La Guadalupana is a bakery first, after all, and owner Trancito Diaz used to be a pastry chef at the Houston Country Club. Which means he makes as mean a croissant as he does a marranito.