So much of my time in the kitchen is making things up as I go along, letting ingredients and cravings dictate the outcome. But the method comes from somewhere; I didn’t wake up knowing how to make shakshuka, for example, I learned it from years of reading/observing other people do it. (And now I can literally wake up and make shakshuka.)
My point is: even when I think I’m being very clever and original, I didn’t arrive here in a vacuum. Many other people from many places and backgrounds informed how I am now, what I cook now.
Which brings us to this week’s recipe. It’s less of a recipe and more of a formula, something I prefer because it lets anyone make the “same” thing with whatever they want.
So: what’s a gal to do with a cup of leftover tomato and rhubarb sauce, a chunk of mole paste, a slab of Provel, cooked black beans, tortillas, and a few wedges of roasted pumpkin?
The fruity, tart tomato and rhubarb sauce was leftover from the summer (it originally went on fish — a recipe I tested for a job), and I figured it would mesh well with the mole, which has been in our freezer since we went to Chicago in the summer …of 2019. (It’s mole Teloloapan, a little spicy and dark brick-red, and we’ve been using portions of it ever since a lovely lady at Cremeria Santa Maria scooped some from a giant mound for us.) I added broth from a pot of black beans to make the sauce a thin, pourable consistency. And it worked! It worked really, really well, actually.
The black beans I found at the back of the pantry. I do not remember when or from where I bought them. They took three hours to cook (after a 10-ish hour soak) so I know they were a little old.
I’m a believer in “fancy” beans, meaning, I prefer fresher beans (like those from Rancho Gordo or purchased from a farm where they were grown just the past season), since they tend to have a superior texture and better flavor, and I can be reasonably certain that the people growing them are fairly compensated. But you know what? My beans of unknown provenance tasted great, too. If you cook them long enough and add enough salt, you’ll have a tasty pot of beans.
The pumpkin, well, the pumpkin came from a porch — the porch of one of Braeden’s cousin’s, not a random person’s porch, although we haven’t not considered asking strangers if we could eat their porch pumpkins…
Did you know you can eat the large pumpkins that often get used for decorations? You can! Braeden peeled it, cut it into wedges, and then we froze it to use later. (You can roast them skin-on and peel after, if you prefer.)
Provel, my sweet, sweet, processed Provel. I understand the hypocrisy of loving Provel and also advocating that you pay more money for beans, of all things. But here I am.
Anyway, if you thought mole paste in the freezer since the summer of 2019 was bad, you’ll shudder at the thought of eating Provel that just turned three years old. But let this be a lesson: if you cut a five-pound block of Provel into manageable chunks and wrap them well, they will not get freezer burn.
The tortillas were just whatever big brand of corn tortillas are out there, bought in desperation after I went to make homemade corn tortillas, didn’t have enough masa harina, tried to do it anyway and supplement with all-purpose flour, and then failed, miserably. These tortillas needed something extra tasty to cover up their bitter yet somehow still bland flavor. (I’m a tortilla snob, I’m sorry.)
Thus, the moment you’ve been waiting for:
I made enchiladas.
And they were freaking awesome.
I don’t have any grand enchilada-making secrets, other than to say that practically anything can go in an enchilada, provided you have these basic building blocks:
Corn tortillas — I know some people make them with flour, but um… don’t. As I said to my mom when I asked her for enchilada advice this morning, “I didn’t even think of that because, yeah, gotta be corn!” As my mom said, using flour tortillas makes it more like a burrito. As Pati Jinich says, “Flour tortillas are sweeter than corn tortillas, they are less resilient to withhold sauce, fillings, and garnishes and become a mushy mess of the worst sorts if given the enchilada treatment.” So there.
Sauce — As I hope I’ve illustrated above, you have so many more options beyond red or green. For a little inspiration, here are all the enchiladas listed on Pati Jinich’s site; also check out the many enchilada videos on this perfect YouTube channel, De mi Rancho a tu Cocina. Also helpful, if using mole paste: this LA Times article by Andrea Nguyen.
Filling — This is where you can truly use anything, provided it’s savory. Beans, meat, vegetables, tofu chorizo, anything! The filling can be plain since the sauce is so flavorful; this time around I added a little sauce to the filling to make sure it didn’t dry out during baking.
Cheese — I topped mine with a few slices of Monterey Jack. If you don’t eat dairy, then of course, a vegan cheese would work too. Cheese is nice, but I don’t think it’s essential. Maybe I’m wrong, though.
When I make enchiladas, they tend to be baked, though that’s not strictly necessary. You might come across methods that have you simply dip the tortilla in the sauce, fill, pour more sauce over top, and then serve. (Such as in this pork tenderloin or this shrimp enchilada recipe.) When it’s cold out, though, there’s something about a bubbling dish of enchiladas that hits right.
A few more enchilada assembly tips from my mom, who makes very tasty enchiladas, if I may say so:
Always add a thin layer of sauce on the bottom of your baking dish.
On the dip tortillas versus pour-sauce-over tortillas question: “Red sauce I like to dip and then pour extra sauce over after rolling. Green, like for enchiladas Suizas, I very lightly fry the tortillas, fill, and roll, and then pour sauce over.”
On frying tortillas: “I almost always fry the tortillas enough to soften them. I like the texture better that way.”
On sauce: “I really like bean broth in the sauce, especially for red.”
Next week, approximately 1000 things to do with pumpkin, since we are still swimming in them. Pictured above is a fairytale pumpkin, but the recipe will work with any sort of winter squash.