Pequenes (Chilean Onion Empanadas)

In Chile, we enjoy empanadas in a variety of ways: baked or fried; small or large; at the dinner table or as a street food; with sweet fillings like pear puree or with savory fillings like cheese or razor clams. The most popular version is the empanada de pino, a big baked empanada filled with a mixture of onion and a beef stew called pino (pino comes from the indigenous Mapuche word for "filling," or "stew"). 

While the popular empanada de pino is delicious, I think the lesser known onion-filled empanada called pequén deserves just as much attention. This meatless empanada is filled with a stewed onion mixture that is seasoned with cumin, aji de color (the local paprika), and, optionally, hot sauce. Their unique and specific folding technique is meant to resemble the shape of the Chilean Pequen owl’s angular and pointy face, which is where the recipe name comes from.

The most common version is baked, but you can find fried versions sold in the food markets in Chile, usually for breakfast or early lunch. Pequenes’ humble and accessible ingredients made them popular in times of economic crisis and scarcity during the last century, when beef was considered a luxury item.

There was a time in the 1990’s and early 2000’s when pequenes were less readily available in bakeries and restaurants, but these days they are experiencing a strong comeback among recipe bloggers and home cooks, possibly because they are a traditional Chilean vegetarian dish in a time when interest in meatless cooking is growing. Whatever the reasons for pequenes' resurgence, I enjoy them for their nostalgic value. They remind me of my grandmother with every bite.

Before the pandemic, my husband and I lived in Copenhagen for a few years. September was the time of year when we most missed home (and Chilean food), as September 18th is Chilean independence day, a celebration involving the consumption of dozens of empanadas de pino. My homesickness instilled in me a profound need to make empanadas while living abroad.

In my time living away, I have a memory of listening to the song “Violeta Ausente” by the Chilean folk singer Violeta Parra. I remember hearing the lyrics, and feeling a deep connection to her experiences. She wrote this song while living in France back in the 1960’s and in the song she questions her decision to ever have left Chile (much like I did during the long, dark Danish winters). Violeta, who was a great traditional cook, goes on to explain that the one thing she truly wishes to do is “to go to the market and eat a pequén.” Her lyrics inspired me to create my own recipe for pequén while I was living away from home.

Around the same time, my abuelita (grandma), Techy—whose empanadas were famous—passed away. After shedding many tears, I decided to make, for the first time, two dozen pequenes, using her recipe for empanada dough, while masochistically listening to Violeta’s song on a loop. 

It was magic: Just by touching the warm, soft dough, I instantly felt better. I was again at my grandma's table, eating one of the great meals she used to cook. And these new-for-me meatless empanadas turned out lovely, lighter than the beef-based ones I was more familiar with cooking. The simple pequenes, besides being absolutely delicious, turned bitter homesickness into a calm, almost enjoyable nostalgia: a feeling I could embrace. 

My abuelita’s recipe for empanada dough, which she learned as a child from her grandma, is the same I share here. It is important to note that the wheat-based, high-fat empanada dough is not merely an efficient container for a flavorful filling, it is just as important as the filling inside. I have tried other empanada dough recipes that use less fat or fewer eggs, and other recipes that don’t take the time and care to stretch the dough while still warm, but none are as wonderful as my abuelita’s recipe. Her empanada dough is slightly salty, rich, and supple enough to be stretched thin without tearing, and sturdy enough to not leak any juicy filling while baking.

I have to admit to making two changes to her recipe. First, instead of using 100% shortening or lard, I use a mixture of half lard and half butter. The water content in the butter steams and puffs the dough while it bakes to create a flakier crust, while a good quality lard provides rich flavor and sturdy structure. 

The second change I made is offering substitutions for the Chilean pisco my abuelita called for in her recipe. During different periods of living abroad—first in Columbus, Ohio, and then in Denmark—I was not always able to find Chilean pisco that her recipe requires. As it turns out, Peruvian pisco or vodka are both good replacements. 

Through practice, I have found that temperature control is what makes this recipe work. You must keep the dough warm, and at the same time you have to keep the filling cold. Making the dough with hot water and hot melted fat not only produces a pliable and resilient result, but also keeps the dough slightly warm for folding time. If the dough becomes too cold before shaping, it will stiffen up, making folding and pinching the dough challenging. Of course, if you are making dough ahead of time, even freezing it, there are ways to ensure that it is perfectly warm and soft before assembling empanadas (see my grandma's trick in the notes section below).

 Making the filling is a simpler process. The onions, fat, aromatics, and spices like Chilean aji de color and cumin are cooked down together until the flavors meld and the onions are soft and transparent. To ensure the filling is firm and doesn’t leak out while baking, it's best to briefly freeze it for 30 minutes before assembling the pequenes. This prevents the filling from boiling inside the empanada while baking, which can cause juices to escape the empanadas and dry them out.

A perfect Chilean empanada should be juicy and even drip down your wrist—but only once you’ve taken the first bite, not before. Enjoy these pequenes as we do in Chile: Still hot, by hand, and with a small tumbler of a simple, medium-bodied Chilean red wine.