Vegan Frito Pie

The recipe Vegan Frito Pie can be made in about 10 minutes. For $3.89 per serving, this recipe covers 15% of your daily requirements of vitamins and minerals. This recipe makes 1 servings with 790 calories, 7g of protein, and 39g of fat each. It is a good option if you're following a gluten free, dairy free, lacto ovo vegetarian, and vegan diet. This recipe is liked by 651 foodies and cooks. It works well as a rather pricey side dish. A mixture of water, kosher salt, jalapeno, and a handful of other ingredients are all it takes to make this recipe so delicious. It is brought to you by Serious Eats. Overall, this recipe earns a solid spoonacular score of 62%. If you like this recipe, you might also like recipes such as Frito Pie – Oh My! Your Basic Frito Pie, Frito Pie: How to Make the Original Chili Pie, and Frito Pie.

Servings: 1

 

Ingredients:

1/2 avocado, sliced (optional)

1 tablespoon chopped cilantro (optional

1 jalapeño, sliced into 1/4-inch rings

1 teaspoon kosher salt

1 lime wedge (optional)

1 small red onion, thinly sliced

1/4 cup vegan sugar

1 cup leftover vegan or vegetarian chili, heated

1/2 cup water

1/2 cup rice wine or distilled white vinegar

Equipment:

sauce pan

knife

bowl

Cooking instruction summary:

Procedures 1 Combine vinegar, water, sugar, and salt in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat. Add jalapeño and red onion. Cook, stirring frequently, until onions have lightly softened and are translucent and jalapeños have become dirty green, about 2 minutes. Remove from heat and set aside. 2 Carefully slit open the front of the Frito's bag with a knife or kitchen shears and pull sides apart. Place bag with opening facing up in a bowl. Add half of chili and stir to combine. Top with remaining chili. Garnish with pickled onions and jalapeño rings, sliced avocado, cilantro, and scallions if desired. Allow to sit until softened to desired texture and eat with lime wedge (if desired).

 

Step by step:


1. Combine vinegar, water, sugar, and salt in a small saucepan. Bring to a boil over high heat.

2. Add jalapeño and red onion. Cook, stirring frequently, until onions have lightly softened and are translucent and jalapeños have become dirty green, about 2 minutes.

3. Remove from heat and set aside.

4. Carefully slit open the front of the Frito's bag with a knife or kitchen shears and pull sides apart.

5. Place bag with opening facing up in a bowl.

6. Add half of chili and stir to combine. Top with remaining chili.

7. Garnish with pickled onions and jalapeño rings, sliced avocado, cilantro, and scallions if desired. Allow to sit until softened to desired texture and eat with lime wedge (if desired).


Nutrition Information:

Quickview
790k Calories
7g Protein
38g Total Fat
99g Carbs
7% Health Score
Limit These
Calories
790k
40%

Fat
38g
60%

  Saturated Fat
10g
63%

Carbohydrates
99g
33%

  Sugar
56g
62%

Cholesterol
0.0mg
0%

Sodium
3466mg
151%

Get Enough Of These
Protein
7g
15%

Fiber
13g
54%

Vitamin C
40mg
49%

Folate
107µg
27%

Vitamin K
25µg
24%

Vitamin B6
0.46mg
23%

Potassium
707mg
20%

Manganese
0.38mg
19%

Vitamin E
2mg
18%

Vitamin B5
1mg
16%

Copper
0.28mg
14%

Calcium
138mg
14%

Iron
2mg
14%

Magnesium
45mg
11%

Vitamin B2
0.18mg
11%

Vitamin B3
2mg
10%

Phosphorus
96mg
10%

Vitamin B1
0.13mg
9%

Vitamin A
335IU
7%

Zinc
0.91mg
6%

Selenium
2µg
3%

covered percent of daily need
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Food Trivia

Death row inmates in Texas don't get to pick their last meal.

Food Joke

Calling in Sick... A Cat Owner's Story Calling in sick to work makes me uncomfortable because no matter how legitimate my illness, I always sense my boss thinks I am lying. On one occasion, I had a valid reason but lied anyway because the truth was too humiliating to reveal. I simply mentioned that I had sustained a head injury and I hoped I would feel up to coming in the next day. By then, I could think up a doozy to explain the bandage on my crown. In this case, the truth hurt. I mean it really hurt in the place men feel the most pain. The accident occurred mainly because I conceded to my wife's wishes to adopt a cute little kitty. As the daily routine prescribes, I was taking my shower after breakfast when I heard my wife call out to me from the kitchen. "Ed!" she hearkened. "The garbage disposal is dead. Come reset it." "You know where the button is." I protested through the shower . "Reset it yourself!" "I am scared!" She pleaded. "What if it starts going and sucks me in?" Pause. "C'mon, it'll only take a second." No logical assurance about how a disposal can't start itself will calm the fears of a person who suffers from "Big-ol-scary-machinephobia," a condition brought on by watching too many Stephen King movies. It is futile to argue or explain, kind of like Lloyd Bentsen telling Americans they are over-taxed. And if a poltergeist did, in fact, possess the disposal, and she was ground into round, I'd have to live with that the rest of my life. So out I came, dripping wet and buck naked, hoping to make a statement about how her cowardly behavior was not without consequence but it was I who would suffer. I crouched down and stuck my head under the sink to find the button. It is the last action I remember performing. It struck without warning. Nay, it wasn't a hexed disposal drawing me into its gnashing metal teeth. It was our new kitty, clawing playfully at the dangling objects she spied between my legs. She ("Buttons" aka "the Grater") had been poised around the corner and stalked me as I took the bait under the sink. At precisely the second I was most vulnerable, she leapt at the toys I unwittingly offered and snagged them with her needle-like claws. Now when men feel pain or even sense danger anywhere close to their masculine region, they lose all rational thought to control orderly bodily movements. Instinctively, their nerves compel the body to contort inwardly, while rising upwardly at a violent rate of speed. Not even a well-trained monk could calmly stand with his groin supporting the full weight of a kitten and rectify the situation in a step-by-step procedure. Wild animals are sometimes faced with a "fight or flight" syndrome; men, in this predicament, choose only the "flight" option. Fleeing straight up, I knew at that moment how a cat feels when it is alarmed. It was a dismal irony. But, whereas cats seek great heights to escape, I never made it that far. The sink and cabinet bluntly impeded my ascent; the impact knocked me out cold. When I awoke, my wife and the paramedics stood over me. Having been fully briefed by my wife, the paramedics snorted as they tried to conduct their work while suppressing their hysterical laughter. My wife told me I should be flattered. At the office, colleagues tried to coax an explanation out of me. I kept silent, claiming it was too painful to talk. "What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" If they had only known.

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