25Cooking
enchiladas at
home is a
miracle in itself:
to use humble
ingredients
in the service of
something
truly beyond. corn tortillas
pound shredded Cheddar cheese ( cups)
½ cup fi nely diced white onion
Fresh parsley or cilantro, for garnish
(optional)- Heat oven to 350. Lightly grease a 9-by-13-
inch shallow baking dish or pan or a very large
cast-iron skillet. - Add the oil and flour to a medium skillet. Set
over medium-low heat, and cook, whisking
constantly, until the mixture (known as a roux)
turns a golden color, smells nutty and thickens,
5-7 minutes. - Add garlic, chile powder, cumin, oregano
and black pepper to the roux. Whisk until
smooth (some clumping from the garlic is fine),
being careful to not let the spices burn, about
30 seconds. - While whisking constantly, add beef broth
¼ cup at a time, whisking after each addition
until smooth. Reduce heat to low, and simmer
gently, whisking occasionally, for 10 minutes.
Remove from heat, and allow the gravy to rest
for another 10 minutes. Taste the gravy, and
season with salt as needed for a savory sauce. - Meanwhile, in another pan, lightly heat a
tortilla over medium just until softened, about
30 seconds per side. Transfer to a clean kitchen
towel or sheet of foil, and wrap. Repeat with
the remaining tortillas, stacking them in the
towel or foil. Be careful not to overcook them:
You’re softening each tortilla to prevent them
from cracking as they’re filled and folded. - Fill 1 softened tortilla with about ⅓ cup of
cheese. Roll shut, and with the seam-side
facing downward, place in the greased baking
dish or skillet. Repeat until you’ve filled all the
tortillas, setting the rolls next to one another. - Slowly pour the gravy over all the tortillas to
coat. Afterward, sprinkle the dish with the rest
of the cheese and the diced onions. - Bake until the gravy is bubbling and the
cheese is melted, 20-25 minutes. - Garnish with parsley or cilantro, if desired,
alongside a sprinkle of salt and black pepper.
Serve immediately.
Tip: You want ground dried chilies, not what’s
sold as chili powder, which includes other
spices and salt. Whether to use mild, medium
or hot chilies for the powder is up to you, but
avoid using chipotle-chile powder, which can
end up bitter.Yield: 4 servings. Cheese Enchiladas
Time: 1 hour tablespoons neutral oil, such as canola,
plus more for greasing
tablespoons all-purpose fl our
garlic cloves, minced
tablespoons ground red chile powder
(see tip)
teaspoons ground cumin
teaspoon dried oregano
½ teaspoon ground black pepper, plus
more for sprinkling
cups beef broth
Saltby Shiku in Los Angeles for a special last
winter, beneath a guajillo and ancho chili
dak galbi sauce and perilla salsa. Lately,
cooking with my guy, I’ll fi ll mine with
roasted kabocha squash and Monterey
Jack, covered with a light salsa roja and
served under a slightly crisped egg. We’re
allowed into the narrative encompassing
the recipe — and then, if you’re lucky, you’ll
make a home in the recipe of your own.
You’ll need to use only what you have on
hand. It’ll be delicious and low-key.
So perhaps it’s only fair that my favorite
enchilada memory is deeply local: After a
graduation, I passed through Ninfa’s on
Navigation Boulevard, with plans to seat
a party of more than 20 to celebrate. Once
some family members got wind of my
having come out, the reservation’s num-
ber at the table dropped to four (cue cel-
los). But before I could feel too bummed,
a pair of queer waiters made their way to
our table — we were their last ticket of the
night. They asked what I wanted, and I
asked what they recommended. Both men
gave me one more glance before promis-
ing to square me away.
The cheese enchiladas arrived moments
later: a savory gift atop a pastel plate. Siz-
zling cheese and bubbling chili gravy.
I’d had enchiladas before, but never any
as delicious. A group of gays at the next
booth over got wind of our celebration
and invited themselves to our table.
The waiters hung around for a moment,
slouching against our chairs. What could
have been a dour moment morphed into
an entirely magical one. I was grateful
for many things, not the least of which
were the enchiladas, which had created
a small community — a celebration and
a hug all in one.of Mexico has its own version of enchila-
das, though even then the offi cial recipes
are a source of frequent debate.’’
One of the enchilada’s many delights is
how the dish adapts to its surroundings,
while adhering to the rough calculus of
tortilla + heat + salsa: whoa. The dish is
also, crucially, Tex-Mex, which as Sylvia
Casares notes in ‘‘The Enchilada Queen
Cookbook,’’ ‘‘is the oldest regional cook-
ing style in the United States.’’ Whether
they’re found in an after-hours bar along
I-10 or in one of the many suburban-
Bible-study-rendezvous-restaurants dot-
ting West Texas, enchiladas are a cuisine
staple in the way of chilaquiles and charro
beans and migas scooped into fl our tor-
tillas — but our relationships to the dish
remain deeply individual. Maybe you pre-
fer a squeeze of lime over your enchiladas
suizas. Or you’re into the minor galaxy of a
hearty mole sauce across your tortillas. Or
maybe you’ll take your enchiladas however
they come, grateful for the alignment of
stars that proff ered such a holy off ering.
Across Houston, from EaDo to Sugar
Land to Montrose to the Woodlands to the
Heights, enchiladas are a staple of absurdly
long nights and too-early mornings. Many
a boyfriend have told me they have found
the perfect taqueria — or bar, or truck, or
weekend pop-up hybrid — for enchiladas,
and all of them have been correct because
all enchiladas are perfect. I’ve eaten enchi-
ladas on food-truck benches parked just
outside leather bars. I’ve eaten enchiladas
with bachelorette parties winding down
in the foreground, as the betrothed and
her companions wiped salsa from their
knuckles. I’ve eaten enchiladas alongside
friends to celebrate (completed projects,
relocations, navigating yet another week
on Earth), and to mourn (‘‘Screw that guy,
he didn’t deserve you’’) and as a simple
reminder of the manner in which we’re
tied to the city itself. Because — much
like Houston’s myriad off erings of pho
bo and buttered naan and khao man gai
— enchiladas are tightly woven into the
fabric of the area’s sprawl.
Cooking enchiladas at home is a miracle
in itself: The recipe’s framework creates
opportunities to use humble ingredients in
the service of something truly beyond. We
can craft enchiladas within our contexts
without divorcing the dish from its history.
You could take your enchiladas vegan à la
Veegos on Houston’s Westheimer Road. Or
you could take your enchiladas as cooked