Milanesa de Surubí is a river-born twist on a beloved classic from the Southern Cone. While beef and chicken milanesas dominate Argentine menus, coastal and river regions celebrate their freshwater bounty by breading and frying local catches. Surubí—a firm, meaty South American catfish from the Paraná and Paraguay river systems—shines in this treatment. Its mild flavor and dense flakes hold up beautifully to a golden, shattering crust, offering a lighter but equally satisfying version of the comfort food staple.
Surubí has a natural richness and tight muscle structure that withstands the three-step breading and shallow-frying process without falling apart. Thin cutlets cook quickly and evenly, so the exterior crisps before the interior overcooks. The fish’s gently sweet flavor pairs naturally with the lemon-parsley-garlic perfume used here, and the optional cornmeal in the crumb adds a distinctly Argentine crunch reminiscent of riverbank fry-ups.
Argentine homes often pair milanesa with a simple salad or papas fritas. For fish, I love peppery arugula dressed with olive oil and a quick squeeze of lemon, and a spoon of bright chimichurri for herbal heat. Salsa criolla—diced tomato, onion, and bell pepper with vinegar—also makes a colorful, crunchy counterpoint.
You can bread the fish up to 4 hours in advance; keep it uncovered on a rack in the refrigerator to dry the coating. Leftovers reheat best on a rack in a 200°C oven for 8–10 minutes. Avoid microwaving, which softens the crust. Cooked milanesa is best eaten the day it’s made, but remains tasty cold in a sandwich with lettuce, tomato, and a swipe of mayonnaise and chimichurri.
Milanesa embodies the Italian-Argentine bridge, tracing its roots to cotoletta alla milanese, then adapted to local tastes and ingredients. In the river provinces of Corrientes, Chaco, and Formosa, surubí is a point of pride, celebrated in local festivals and roadside parrillas where fish is as revered as beef. Turning surubí into milanesa reflects the Argentine knack for making familiar techniques feel new by embracing the terroir of their waterways.
Blending fine breadcrumbs with a little cornmeal delivers a superior crust—light, audibly crisp, and resilient enough to stay crunchy under a squeeze of citrus. Sweet paprika adds color and warmth without overshadowing the fish. If you can, make your own crumbs from day-old bread pulsed finely; they hydrate and brown more evenly than many packaged varieties.
Choose surubí from responsible fisheries or trusted fishmongers, and ask about catch methods to minimize environmental impact. When surubí isn’t available, seek firm, mild alternatives such as catfish, striped bass, or hake—fish that mirror the structure and cooking qualities of surubí.
The first time I had Milanesa de Surubí was at a family table near the Paraná, where lunch stretched into merienda and the soundscape was a mix of sizzling oil and conversation. The dish surprised me: familiar in form yet unmistakably of its place—citrus on the fingers, herbs in the air, the river’s presence right there in the pan. Each time I cook it, I try to preserve that balance: the strength of tradition with the freedom to adapt. If you’re new to surubí, this is the most welcoming doorway in—crisp, bright, and impossibly satisfying.