Golden fried cassava with crackling pork, tangy curtido, and bright tomato salsa—an irresistible Salvadoran street-food platter perfect for sharing.
                        
                        Why this dish stands out
Yuca con Chicharrón is a love letter to texture and contrast: fluffy-centered cassava with a shattering golden crust, partnered with pork belly cubes that crackle with every bite. It’s completed by two essential Salvadoran condiments: curtido—a quick-pickled slaw brimming with vinegar brightness—and salsa roja, a tomato-forward sauce that ties the plate together with gentle warmth and color. This combination is more than the sum of its parts; each element plays a role in balancing richness, acidity, heat, and crunch.
A brief history and cultural context
In El Salvador, you’ll find Yuca con Chicharrón served at bustling markets, roadside stands, and family gatherings. It’s a staple of comida típica, celebrated for being hearty, affordable, and deeply satisfying. The dish reflects a convergence of Indigenous ingredients and Spanish culinary techniques: cassava (yuca) long predates European contact, while pork-centric preparations like chicharrón arrived with colonization. Over time, Salvadorans crafted a uniquely local expression—pairing fried yuca with pork and refreshing pickles—to create an iconic street-food experience. On weekends, it’s common to see families sharing generous platters, the curtido’s tang cutting through the fatty bliss of chicharrón as conversation flows.
Ingredient notes and shopping tips
- Yuca: Choose heavy, firm roots with unblemished skin. When cut, the interior should be bright white without gray or black streaks. Frozen pre-peeled yuca is a reliable, time-saving alternative.
 
- Pork belly: Aim for a balanced ratio of meat to fat and keep the skin on for extra crackle. If you prefer a leaner option, pork shoulder works but won’t achieve the same shattering crispness.
 
- Curtido essentials: Cabbage, carrot, onion, vinegar, and a touch of sugar create a quick pickle that can be enjoyed within minutes, though the flavor deepens over a few hours.
 
- Salsa roja: Tomatoes provide body, while cumin and annatto (or paprika) lend warmth and color. A seeded jalapeño offers gentle heat without overpowering the dish.
 
Technique keys to success
- Thoroughly cook yuca: Cassava must be fully cooked to be safe and palatable. Boil until just tender, then drain and steam-dry before frying. This ensures a creamy interior and prevents oil spatter.
 
- Double texture on pork: Start pork belly with a little water, covered, to kickstart rendering. Then uncover and let the fat render until the cubes confit in their own fat and turn glassy-crisp at the edges.
 
- Heat control: Fry yuca at about 175°C. Overcrowding drops the temperature and leads to soggy results. Work in batches and return the oil to temp between rounds.
 
- Balance the plate: Don’t skip curtido. Its acidity cleanses the palate and keeps the dish from feeling heavy. A squeeze of lime just before eating adds a final bright pop.
 
Variations to explore
- Yuca sancochada: In some homes, the yuca is simply boiled and dressed with salsa and chicharrón—no frying required. It’s lighter but still deeply comforting.
 
- Plantain swap: Mix in a few slices of fried ripe plantain for a sweet counterpoint.
 
- Spicy kick: Swap jalapeño for serrano or add a pinch of chili flakes to the salsa roja.
 
- Herb twist: Finish with chopped mint alongside cilantro for a cool, aromatic accent.
 
Make-ahead and serving tips
- Curtido improves over time; make it up to 3 days ahead and keep refrigerated. The flavors mellow and meld, giving you a restaurant-style finish at home.
 
- Salsa roja can be prepared a day ahead and gently reheated. If it thickens too much, loosen with a splash of water.
 
- Par-cook the yuca earlier in the day. Fry to order for peak crunch.
 
- For gatherings, set up a platter with separate piles of yuca, chicharrón, curtido, and salsa so guests can build their perfect bite.
 
Personal notes
This recipe captures the joy of Salvadoran street food: food meant to be eaten with your fingers, to be shared, to be talked over. The first time I assembled it at home, I realized how the dish teaches balance—richness offset by acid, crunch supported by softness, spice tamed by sweetness. Whether you’re chasing a nostalgic flavor or discovering it for the first time, Yuca con Chicharrón rewards you with a chorus of textures and a brightness that keeps you coming back for one more piece. It’s humble, generous, and unforgettable—exactly what comfort food should be.