The Magnificent, Mysterious, and Tragically Discontinued History of Churros
The churro: a simple stick of fried dough that's sparked international debate, survived eight centuries, crossed oceans with conquistadors, and met its untimely demise in a Costco warehouse. This is its story.
Here's what you need to know: Churros are one of the most debated foods in culinary history—nobody can agree where they came from, but everyone agrees they're delicious. They've evolved from medieval Islamic fritters to theme park icons, from shepherd sustenance to hangover cure, and most tragically, from beloved Costco staple to discontinued relic. This is the tale of deep-fried revenge pastries, $1 food court dreams, and the cookie that broke a nation's heart.
The debate over churro origins makes most food fights look civilized. At least four competing theories exist, each with passionate defenders and academic detractors. Food historians have literally called rival theories "laughable" and "hoaxes." For something made of flour and water, churros inspire remarkable rage.
The great churro origin battle royale
The most popular theory on food blogs—that Portuguese sailors discovered Chinese youtiao in the 1500s and brought it to Spain—has a fatal flaw: the timeline doesn't work. Spanish conquistadors were already introducing churros to the Americas in the 1500s, the same time Portuguese supposedly "discovered" them in China. Oops.
Food historian Miranda Brown from University of Michigan delivered the academic smackdown: "No one has ever coughed up a shred of textual support. I have yet to see some sixteenth or seventeenth-century European quoted as claiming that churros 'came from alien lands.' Nor are there any of the usual smoking guns"—no loan words, no historical documentation, nothing. She calls the theory essentially a hoax. Food historian Michael Krondl goes further, calling it "laughable."
But here's where it gets wild: youtiao's Cantonese name literally means "oil-fried ghost." The legend dates to the Song Dynasty (1103-1142 AD) when a beloved general named Yue Fei was wrongfully executed by corrupt official Qin Hui and his wife. An enraged street vendor created a pastry of two strips of dough twisted together representing the treasonous couple, then deep-fried them in boiling oil as symbolic punishment. The public ate them as a metaphorical act of justice and revenge. So if churros DID descend from youtiao, they'd be the great-great-grandchildren of a vengeance pastry invented to symbolize deep-frying corrupt politicians. Which honestly makes them even better.
The theory with the strongest historical evidence points to Moorish/Islamic origins. During the nearly 800 years the Moors occupied the Iberian Peninsula (711-1492 AD), they brought sophisticated culinary traditions—including a Persian treat called "zulabiya" or "al-Zalábiyya." A 13th-century cookbook from Andalusia, written in Arabic, contains a recipe for zulabiya involving piping dough and deep frying it. That's centuries before European exploration. Similar fritters still exist throughout North Africa and the Middle East under names like "khringo" in Algeria and "Karabeej Halab" (Whips of Aleppo) in Syria.
The romantic shepherd theory suggests Spanish herders in the mountains invented churros as portable bread substitute, naming them after Churra sheep whose ridged horns resemble the pastry's shape. It's practical and poetic, but lacks documentation. Then there's the ancient Mediterranean theory: food historian Michael Krondl notes that "Today's churro is not that different from a recipe for a flour and water fritter that you find in Apicius, a Roman cookbook dating from the 1st century AD." Fried dough, it seems, is humanity's oldest and most democratic comfort food.
Most experts now lean toward Moorish origins, possibly with ancient Mediterranean precedents. The word "churro" itself doesn't appear in written sources until the late 19th century, according to BBC research. For a food eaten "for centuries," that's bizarre. The name is also onomatopoeic—it imitates the sound of frying. Because of course it does.
When churros conquered the Americas (along with everything else)
In 1519, Hernán Cortés and his conquistadors brought churros to the Americas alongside weapons, horses, disease, and Catholicism. Just another Tuesday during colonization. But here's the delicious irony: Cortés brought cacao from the Americas back to Spain, where Spanish chocolatiers transformed the bitter ceremonial drink into sweet chocolate caliente. The iconic churros con chocolate pairing? That's a transatlantic cultural exchange that actually worked out for everyone's taste buds.
Mexicans immediately improved churros. They added generous cinnamon-sugar coating (sugar was plentiful in the New World), introduced fillings like cajeta (goat's milk caramel), chocolate, and fruit jams, and created different shapes and sizes. They elevated churros from breakfast carb to dessert status. This is the Mexican culinary genius: take something good, add cajeta, make it better.
In 1935, Churrería El Moro opened in Mexico City, founded by Francisco Iriarte who emigrated from Spain in 1933. He noticed nobody was selling churros in the capital and set up a cart in the Zócalo. He named it "El Moro" after a Moorish churro vendor from his Spanish hometown who sold churros town-to-town during festivals—a direct acknowledgment of the Islamic origins. After the devastating 1985 earthquake, El Moro rebuilt and stayed open 24 hours for rescue workers, cementing its place in Mexico City's heart. Now with 15+ locations, the original spot still operates 24/7. Because some emergencies are churro-related.
Latin America created a churro diaspora of delicious variations: Argentina fills them with dulce de leche, Uruguay invented savory cheese-filled churros (mind blown), Cuba stuffs them with fresh guava, and the Philippines—colonized by Spain—developed "bicho-bicho" served with rich tsokolate during Christmas. Every culture that encountered churros said, "Yes, but what if we made them better?"
The Madrid churro hangover cure tradition
In Spain, churros are decidedly NOT dessert. They're breakfast food, specifically the breakfast you eat at dawn after a wild night out. This tradition is so established that historic Chocolatería San Ginés—founded in 1894—stays open 24 hours, 365 days a year and serves up to 90,000 churros per day. That's 90,000. Daily. Two million visitors annually descend on this passageway near Puerta del Sol to dip churros in pudding-thick hot chocolate.
Spanish writer Valle-Inclán was such a regular he mentioned San Ginés in his 1929 novel "Bohemian Lights," calling it the "Modernist Buñolería." Plaques at the entrance honor him. The place has marble counters, green mirrored panels, and vintage charm that's survived over a century. It's expanded internationally to Tokyo (closed after one year—even the Japanese couldn't maintain the pace), Bogotá, Shanghai, Mexico City, Buenos Aires, and Miami Beach.
The Spanish also don't coat churros in cinnamon-sugar—that's a Mexican and American thing. In Spain, churros come plain or with a sugar packet on the side, meant for dipping in chocolate so thick you could eat it with a spoon. The chocolate, called "chocolate a la taza," has pudding-like consistency achieved through repeated boiling or cornstarch thickening. As one Barcelona resident said upon trying Mexican hot chocolate at El Moro: "In Spain, we drown it in starch till it's like pudding. This [Mexican version]... this is alive."
Random delightful churro facts that make life worth living
Churros were the most-searched recipe during COVID-19 lockdown. In the midst of global pandemic, with hand sanitizer scarce and toilet paper hoarded, humanity collectively decided: "I need churros." It's the comfort food that transcends crisis.
Disneyland churros exist because one guy went to a car race. In 1985, Disneyland Manager Jim Lowman attended the Long Beach Grand Prix looking for snacks teens would like. He spotted a churro stand, loved them, tracked down the company (J&J Snack Foods), made them Disneyland vendors. Now they're an iconic Disney snack worldwide, sold at $5+ each. The same brand, Tio Pepe's, would later supply Costco. Remember that—it becomes important.
Original churros were the size of baguettes. Not the manageable sticks we know today, but breadstick-length logs. Imagine the dipping logistics.
Churros transform flour and water through literal alchemy. Two of the most boring ingredients in your pantry—combined, they're a beige, gluey mess. Drop that mess in hot oil? Boom. Crunchy, chewy, golden perfection. It's the culinary equivalent of a makeover movie. One minute: hopeless blob. The next: Cinderella at the ball, but coated in sugar.
The Mexican sitcom El Chavo del Ocho dedicated three episodes to churros in 1978. The story arc was titled "La Venta de Churros" (The Churro Sale). Churros are serious business.
How to make actually authentic churros (and the chocolate for dipping)
After food blogger The Flavor Bender tested four different churro methods—traditional, with eggs, with baking powder, with different flour ratios—she concluded the authentic eggless Spanish version produces the crunchiest exterior with a soft, slightly chewy center that stays crispy for hours. Eggs make them lose crunchiness faster. Who knew?
Traditional Spanish Churros:
Ingredients:
- 1 cup (250ml) boiling water
- 1 cup (140g) all-purpose flour, sifted
- ½ tsp fine sea salt
- 3 tbsp vegetable or olive oil (divided: 2 tbsp + 1 tbsp)
- 2 tbsp sugar (optional)
- Oil for frying
- ½ cup white sugar + 1 tsp cinnamon for coating (Mexican/American style)
Instructions:
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Sift flour into bowl. In pot, combine boiling water (this is critical—must be boiling), 2 tbsp oil, salt, and sugar. Return to rapid boil. Remove from heat.
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Add all flour at once. Stir vigorously with spatula until mostly hydrated (under 1 minute). Cover with lid and steam 1-2 minutes to fully hydrate. Add remaining 1 tbsp oil and mix. Turn onto counter and fold 4-5 times to "knead." Cover and cool to room temperature.
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Heat frying oil to 350-375°F. This temperature is non-negotiable. Place dough in piping bag with closed star tip (½ inch opening—those jagged edges create the crunch).
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Pipe 5-6 inch strips onto parchment paper, or directly into hot oil. Use wet scissors to cut. Fry 2-3 minutes until slightly dark golden brown, turning occasionally. The darker color = longer-lasting crunch. Don't overcrowd—fry 3-4 at a time. Use a skewer to separate them because they're clingy and like to stick together in the oil.
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Drain on paper towels 1 minute. Toss in cinnamon-sugar while warm. Serve immediately. They stay crispy about 20 minutes.
Critical tips: Must use BOILING water. No eggs. Slightly darker = better. Temperature matters enormously. In Spain, skip the cinnamon-sugar entirely and serve plain with chocolate—but we're not in Spain, so go wild.
Spanish Chocolate a la Taza (The Dipping Sauce):
Ingredients:
- 7 oz (200g) dark chocolate (60-70% cacao), chopped
- 2+ cups (500ml) whole milk
- 2 tbsp cornstarch
- 2 tbsp sugar
- 1 cinnamon stick (optional)
- Pinch of salt
Instructions:
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Chop chocolate into small pieces. Mix cornstarch with 3 tbsp cold milk to create smooth slurry (prevents lumps).
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Heat remaining milk until simmering. Add cinnamon stick if using. Add chocolate and whisk until completely melted.
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Pour in cornstarch slurry while whisking continuously. Cook 5-7 minutes, stirring constantly, until thick enough to coat a spoon. It should be pudding-like. If you can stand a spoon upright in it, you've achieved Spanish chocolate nirvana.
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Remove cinnamon stick. Serve hot immediately.
The chocolate should be so thick it's borderline disrespectful. That's how you know it's right.
The Costco churro: a tragedy in three acts
And now we arrive at the heart of darkness, the food court Waterloo, the tale that will be passed down through generations in hushed, mournful tones: The Costco Churro Saga.
Act I: The golden age (2009-2020)
In 2009, Costco introduced the churro to its food courts nationwide, replacing the struggling soft pretzel. Priced at just $1 (occasionally $1.50 in later years), these were no ordinary churros. Made by Tio Pepe's—yes, the same brand supplying Disneyland churros at $5+ each—Costco's version featured straight ridges, a perfectly crispy exterior, and a pleasantly soft interior. They were humongous, bigger than standard churros, coated in cinnamon-sugar, and priced like Costco was running a charity for churro addicts.
For over a decade, the Costco churro became a beloved ritual. Families bought three each before shopping to "lighten the gruesome load that is intense shopping," then purchased four more on the way out for later. One petition signer wrote: "It is the only memory I have with my father, and after his tragic death..." The churro wasn't just a snack—it was tradition, memory, the golden thread binding families together in fluorescent-lit warehouses.
Reddit's r/Costco subreddit, home to 1.3 million members, treated the churro with reverence. It was, as one petitioner proclaimed, like "the godly nectar of Costco churros."
Act II: The dark times (2020-2024)
In early 2020, during pandemic menu simplifications, the original churro vanished. Customers asked workers where they'd gone. The response: "They were gone with no real promise of return. This is an outrage."
In 2021, Costco brought churros back—but with a betrayal. The new "twisted churros" were:
- 20% bigger (sounds good!)
- Twisted design instead of straight (okay...)
- Different recipe with vanilla and honey (suspicious...)
- $1.49 instead of $1 (50% price increase!)
- Customer verdict: "Don't get too excited, they definitely are not as good as the original."
The twisted version was described as "too dry," "too hard," "sugar cardboard," and "incredibly dry and hard dough." The cinnamon sugar fell off more than it stuck. Taste testers ranked it "the least favorite" Costco food court item. Reddit turned on it immediately: "The churros have been dead to me since they moved to the twisted ones anyway."
Act III: The final betrayal (December 2023-January 2024)
In December 2023, rumors swirled on Reddit. A user reported: "My brother (Costco employee) just told me they were getting rid of the churros at the food court and replacing them with cookies."
By early January 2024, it was official. The twisted churro was discontinued nationwide, replaced by a 7-inch Double Chocolate Chunk Cookie priced at $2.49—67% more expensive than the churro, packing a whopping 750 calories (one customer called it "unreasonably rich").
The internet exploded.
The outcry: when churro lovers went to war
Multiple Change.org petitions launched to bring back the churro:
- "Bring Back Costco Churros" - 480+ signatures
- "Bring back the churros at Costco" - 725+ signatures (from July 2020)
- "Bring back Costco Churro" - 150+ signatures
- "Reinstate the Beloved Costco Churro" - active petition
- "Change the Costco churro back" - 2021 petition protesting the twisted version
Total signatures across petitions: Over 1,500 people formally demanded churro restoration.
The petition testimonials read like eulogies:
"Every time I would enter the beloved walls of Costco with my dearest father we would get three churros each to lighten the gruesome load that is intense shopping. Afterwards we would munch on 3 more churros to give us the will the bring the groceries inside our house. It is the only memory I have with my father, and after his tragic death..."
"The only force driving me to join my mother's quest for groceries was the idea of buying five or six churros for my consumption."
"For the past 20 years, my family and I have been enjoying Costco's churros. It was a tradition that brought us together and created countless memories. However, this cherished tradition has been abruptly halted."
One petitioner delivered the ultimate comparison: "They removed their trademark item from the menu! What would McDonalds be without the Big Mac? What would Burger King be without the Whopper?"
Reddit's r/Costco became a churro memorial site. A recent post titled "Who misses the churro????" received 5,500+ likes and over 300 comments. Sample reactions:
- "Us big ol' women down in San Antonio miss them"
- "I miss the churro from the '90s. The one pictured was no bueno"
- "[I] hope not. thats my fav treat there for 20 years. i WILL complain"
- "I miss the churro. When they were fresh and crisp, they were great"
Why did they do it? The theories
Official explanation from Costco: None. Radio silence. Not a single press release or statement.
Speculation:
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Unsustainable price point - At $1-$1.49, churros were too cheap when everything else costs more. Costco's $1.50 hot dog combo has stayed the same price since 1985; maybe the churro couldn't survive the same protection.
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Declining sales - One Reddit insider confirmed "agreements finalized" with a cookie company in December 2023, noting churros had become "tasteless dough" and "the worst item in the food court."
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Higher-margin items - One Redditor theorized: "I'm starting to see the pattern here: a slew of new over-priced offerings intended to subsidize the $1.50 hot dog."
The bitter irony
The replacement cookie sparked its own controversy:
- "REPLACED? Can they not coexist???" (most common complaint)
- "The cookie is just too big. At 800 calories, I can't eat the whole thing and it doesn't reheat well"
- "THEY REPLACED CHURROS FOR THIS!?!?!"
- "Yeah but they took away the churro" (under every positive cookie comment)
The cruelest twist? Sam's Club (Costco's competitor) offers BOTH pretzels AND churros in their cafés. The audacity.
The aftermath: summer 2025
As recently as summer 2025—over a year after discontinuation—customers are STILL campaigning. Fox News reported: "Costco's been rolling out plenty of new food court offerings this summer – but many of the wholesaler's most loyal fans are longing for an old favorite." When Costco introduced new items like frozen strawberry lemonade, customers responded: "I want the churro back."
The churro joins other discontinued favorites in what Reddit calls the "Death Star" of lost menu items:
- Combo Pizza (discontinued 2020 - 18,000+ petition signatures)
- Hand-dipped ice cream bars
- Polish hot dogs (discontinued 2018)
- Soft pretzels (discontinued 2009, replaced by... churros)
The cycle of food court life and death continues.
Can you still get them?
Yes—but with a cruel catch. The original Tio Pepe's churros (now branded as ¡Hola! Churros) are available:
- Costco frozen section: Boxes of 60 for $34-38 (if still available)
- Walmart: 200 churros for $130
- Amazon: 100 churros for $120
- Restaurant supply sites: Cases of 100 for $85
- Subway: Footlong churros for $2 (recently added)
The irony: You can buy the exact same churros Costco served—but only in bulk quantities of 60-200. You can have your churro and eat it too, if you have a chest freezer and the soul of a hoarder.
In memoriam
The Costco churro saga represents more than menu rationalization or cost-cutting. It's the death of a $1 tradition in an era where nothing costs $1 anymore. It's the replacement of accessibility with premium pricing, simplicity with excess. A churro cost $1. The cookie costs $2.49. The churro created memories. The cookie has 750 calories.
As one petition eloquently stated: "Traditions matter, memories matter, and most importantly because we love those deliciously sweet sticks of joy!"
The churro died twice—first in 2020, then for good in 2024. But the memory lives on in the hearts (and arteries) of churro lovers nationwide.
Rest in peace, Costco churro. You were too pure for this world, too affordable for this economy, and too delicious to last forever.
The final word
Churros have survived eight centuries of debate, crossed oceans with conquistadors, fed Spanish bohemians at dawn, fueled Mexican families through earthquakes, and became Disney icons. They're made from the two most boring ingredients in existence yet transform into golden perfection. They might descend from revenge pastries symbolizing deep-fried politicians, or ancient Roman fritters, or medieval Islamic sweets. Nobody knows for sure.
What we do know: they cost $1 at Costco, created 20 years of family memories, and were replaced by a $2.49 cookie with 750 calories.
Some losses are too great to measure in mere dollars and cents. Some traditions matter more than profit margins. Some churros are worth fighting for.
Make your own churros. Dip them in pudding-thick chocolate. Remember what we lost.
And maybe, just maybe, sign that petition.
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