Mom's Best Recipes
Recipe

Frijoles Charros

Smoky pinto beans simmered with bacon, chorizo, tomatoes, onion, and chiles until brothy, rich, and absolutely scoopable.

Author By Matt Campbell
4.8
A rustic bowl of frijoles charros with pinto beans in a smoky broth, topped with chopped cilantro and diced onion, with warm tortillas on a wooden table in a bright home kitchen

Frijoles charros are the kind of beans that make you taste as you go without even thinking about it. One minute you are just checking the broth, the next you are standing at the stove with a spoon. They are smoky, a little spicy, and deeply savory from bacon and chorizo, with a brothy texture that begs for tortillas.

This is a one-pot situation that feels like it took all day, even when you keep it weeknight-friendly using canned beans. If you want the from-scratch version with dried beans, I have you covered too. Either way, you end up with a pot of cozy that plays nice with tacos, grilled chicken, carne asada, or honestly a fried egg.

A kitchen counter with bowls of cooked pinto beans, diced onion, chopped tomato, sliced jalapeño, minced garlic, chopped cilantro, bacon, and chorizo laid out for frijoles charros

Why It Works

  • Big flavor fast: Bacon fat plus chorizo builds a rich base in minutes, then tomatoes and chiles round it out.
  • Brothy, not dry: A short simmer brings everything together while keeping the beans creamy and the broth spoonable.
  • Flexible heat: Use jalapeño for mild, serrano for more heat, and adjust at the end so you do not accidentally overpower the whole pot.
  • Better tomorrow: Like chili, these beans get even more delicious after a night in the fridge.

Pairs Well With

Storage Tips

Refrigerate: Cool completely, then store in an airtight container for up to 4 days. The beans will thicken as they sit.

Freeze: Freeze in portioned containers for up to 3 months. Leave a little headspace since the broth expands.

Reheat: Warm gently on the stove over medium-low, stirring occasionally. Add a splash of water or broth to loosen it back up. Microwave works too, just stir halfway through so the heat is even.

Two glass meal prep containers filled with frijoles charros, lids off, sitting on a clean kitchen counter with a spoon nearby

Common Questions

Are frijoles charros spicy?

They can be, but they do not have to be. Jalapeño usually lands mild to medium, while serrano is hotter. For more control, remove the seeds and membranes, then add more heat at the end with hot sauce or extra chopped chile.

What is the difference between frijoles charros and frijoles borrachos?

They are close cousins. Frijoles borrachos typically include beer in the broth. Frijoles charros are the classic cowboy-style beans, often made with bacon and or chorizo in a savory, smoky broth.

How do I make frijoles charros with dried beans?

If you want the from-scratch version, here is the easy conversion. Start with 1 pound dried pinto beans (about 2 cups). Rinse, then soak overnight (optional but faster). Simmer in unsalted water until tender, usually 1 to 2 hours depending on freshness and whether you soaked. You will end up with about 6 cups cooked beans, which is roughly what 3 (15-ounce) cans gives you once drained. For this recipe, use 6 cups cooked beans plus about 3 cups bean cooking liquid (or a mix of bean liquid and broth) in place of the canned beans and chicken broth. Then proceed with the recipe as written.

Can I make these without chorizo or bacon?

Yes. Swap bacon for 2 to 3 tablespoons of oil, and replace chorizo with a diced bell pepper plus 1 teaspoon smoked paprika and 1 teaspoon ground cumin for that savory depth. It will be different, but still very good.

Should I drain the beans?

If you use canned beans, I like to drain and rinse them so the broth tastes clean, not can-forward. Then we build our own broth with stock or water, tomatoes, and all the good stuff. If you are using home-cooked beans, use some of the bean cooking liquid for extra body.

How do I thicken frijoles charros?

Two easy moves: simmer uncovered a little longer, or mash a small scoop of beans against the side of the pot and stir it back in. Thickened naturally, no drama.

The first time I really fell for frijoles charros, it was not at a fancy spot. It was a casual meal where the beans showed up in a beat-up pot, steaming like they had something to prove. They tasted like the best parts of cooking with a team: everyone bringing one thing, everything getting better together. Now when I make them at home, I treat the pot like a hangout. I stir, I taste, I adjust, I inevitably sample with a tortilla. It is relaxed cooking with bold results, which is basically my love language.