In the historic center of Mexico City, rain or shine, you’ll likely find a line outside Churrería El Moro. The chain’s original location has been around since 1935, and its mosaic-tile signage and stained-glass windows reflect the art deco style of the time. Its churros are light and hot, and the cinnamon sugar they’re coated in clings to your fingers and clothes. The mess and the sweetness knock you into a childlike state. Here in Texas, purveyors are leaning into that feeling with their over-the-top versions of the treat.
But first, a primer. Churros are made from choux pastry, a mixture that generally consists of butter, eggs, flour, water, salt, and sugar that puffs when cooked. The dough is pushed through an extruder that gives the churros their hollow star shape. Next it goes straight into hot oil. After frying, the churros are rolled in sugar or cinnamon sugar and served alongside chocolate sauce, cajeta (caramelized goat’s milk), or both, for dipping.
While it’s been confirmed that churros came to the Americas via the Iberian Peninsula in the sixteenth century, their origins are a bit murky. One legend says that Portuguese traders adapted long, ridged fried dough sticks called youtiao from China. Another story holds that Spanish shepherds created the snack, naming it after the churra sheep in their care. Yet another theory proposes that it was the invention of Moors in medieval Spain. The chocolate sauce was conceived in Mexico, though, and taken back to Europe.
Today’s churrerías aren’t bound by centuries of tradition. In San Antonio the co-owners of Honchos, brothers Gabriel and Luis Martinez, have introduced fantastical seasonal takes on churros, such as the Beetlechurro, inspired by Beetlejuice, in which two churros—one covered in black granulated sugar and the other white powdered sugar—are served in a cup with ice cream and topped with green sauce made from cheesecake filling and blueberry “popping” boba. For Christmas, glazed churros are dusted with Abuelita cocoa mix, mazapán peanut candy, and peppermint. Even when heavy with toppings, Honchos’s churros are incredibly airy, with a gentle crunch. They take the playfulness of sugary fried dough to another level of joy.
Leo’s Churro Bar, in Fort Worth, offers concoctions that are just as whimsical and colorful. “We like to play around,” says owner Jesus Varillas. While it’s possible to order a classic churro, you can also get one rolled in crushed Oreos, slathered in strawberry shortcake cream and crumbs, or decorated with Cinnamon Toast Crunch or Fruity Pebbles. There’s no tastier way to harness your imagination.
Food styling: Ali Mendez
This article originally appeared in the December 2024 issue of Texas Monthly with the headline “Churros Leave Other Desserts in Their Dust.” Subscribe today.
