In which Rebecca learns that steam is hot
Also, completion of Cookbook Challenge, Week 6 Assignment.
I am hazardous. That's all there is to it. Last night, doctorconquest and I made enchiladas, and for the first time, I made the sauce from scratch. I used the recipe from the New Moosewood Cookbook.
Mexican Red Sauce
2 tsp. olive oil
1 cup minced onion
½ tsp. salt
1½ tsp. cumin
2 tsp. chili powder
3 cups chopped tomatoes (I used Rosso Bruno heirlooms, and I imagine a 28 ounce can would also work just fine when fresh are unavailable.)
1 cup water or tomato juice (I used mostly water, and half the glass of pink wine I was sipping)
black pepper & cayenne, to taste
4 to 6 cloves of garlic, minced (Since we were doubling the recipe, and the enchilada filling also required nearly as much garlic, poor doctorconquest was chopping garlic for a really long time, and probably felt like he had entered some kind of Sisyphean garlic-chopping hell.)
It all went well until we got to the simmering part. I had covered the sauce to bring it to a boil, and went to shift the lid over so it would be partially uncovered to simmer. Turns out, steam is hot, and one should really not have the delicate skin of one's wrist over the side of the lid that one is lifting. Also, ow. It's faded to a couple pink spots that sting a little now, but my wrist felt like it was on fire all night, even with ice. Seriously, don't do that. It's really unpleasant. But dinner was far from done, so I tied a tea towel full of ice to my wrist and resumed chopping things.
I based the rest of the meal on the Almond-Eggplant Enchiladas in The New Moosewood Cookbook.
Almond Eggplant Enchiladas
1 T. olive oil
1 c. fine diced onion
6 c. diced eggplant
1 - 2 tsp. salt
lots of ground black pepper
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 med. green bell pepper, minced
1 c. toasted almonds, chopped
1 packed cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese (or cheddar)
12 corn tortillas
1 batch enchilada sauce
Preheat oven to 350º. Heat the olive oil in a pan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for about 5 minutes, until translucent. Add the eggplant, salt, pepper and mix well. Cover and cook for about 10 minutes stirring occasionally, until the eggplant is tender. Add the garlic and pepper. Stir in and cook for 5 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning. Remove from heat, stir in almonds and cheese. Moisten each tortilla briefly in water, then place 1/4 cup of filling on one side and roll up. Place the Enchiladas in a 13x9 baking dish and cover with the enchilada sauce. Bake uncovered for 30 minutes, and serve with rice and beans.
Eggplant isn't really in season, so I used a pound of sliced crimini mushrooms, half a green bell pepper, and 1½ zucchini. I sautéed the mushrooms with a shallot till they started looking wilty, and added the zucchini at the same time as the bell pepper. Otherwise, we followed the recipe fairly closely. I have never gotten enchiladas to roll up neatly without the corn tortillas cracking, and last night was no exception. But that's ok, they were really, really yummy. We had more filling than tortilla space, so we spooned the remainder of the filling over the enchiladas before covering the whole thing with sauce.
Once we got the vegetarian enchiladas in the oven, I handed the reins over to doctorconquest to make a chicken filling for the second batch. I had heard of tequila-lime chicken, and suggested he might want to start there. This is when we learned a few more important lessons, the most innocuous being that you really shouldn't start sautéeing the shallots before your apprentice is done cutting up the chicken, because the latter operation takes rather longer than I had expected. Next we learned that opening a new bottle of plastic-cork-stoppered alcohol is not an operation that should be attempted one-handed, or even 1½-handed. Also, my wrist was still on fire. And now there is tequila on the floor. Clean up tequila on the floor, add tequila, lime juice, and garlic to chicken. Which is when we learned the fourth lesson of the evening: immediately after adding tequila to a pan of chicken is perhaps not the best time to take a whiff of what you're cooking to decide if it needs anything else. You get a faceful of tequila fumes, which looked like it was really unpleasant. Once the chicken was mostly done cooking, we added the other half of the green bell pepper and 1½ zucchini, and followed the above recipe from there. I very nearly learned a fifth lesson while standing out of the way as doctorconquest put together the chicken enchiladas. The lesson would have been: Don't lean on the counter where the pan of enchiladas that just came out of the oven is cooling. Fortunately, I figured this one out before burning my shoulder blades, and I moved to the other side of the kitchen.
I'm not sure if any of the meat-eaters had any of the vegetarian enchiladas, which were delicious. Judging by how quickly the three of them reduced two 8x8 pans of the chicken enchiladas to less than half a pan of enchiladas, I would venture to say the chicken ones were also delicious. The only thing I would change for next time (aside from all the exciting learning experiences) is I would use more tomatoes in the sauce. This isn't the recipe's fault: I used 8 or 10 of the small tomatoes (they're almost exactly halfway between the size of large cherry tomatoes and regular garden tomatoes), and I don't think it ended up being six cups.
I made margaritas to go with dinner, using my standard recipe: a jigger of each 1800 Reposado tequila and Cointreau, plus the juice of half a lime, for each glass. Shake and strain into martini glasses with salted rims.
I am hazardous. That's all there is to it. Last night, doctorconquest and I made enchiladas, and for the first time, I made the sauce from scratch. I used the recipe from the New Moosewood Cookbook.
Mexican Red Sauce
2 tsp. olive oil
1 cup minced onion
½ tsp. salt
1½ tsp. cumin
2 tsp. chili powder
3 cups chopped tomatoes (I used Rosso Bruno heirlooms, and I imagine a 28 ounce can would also work just fine when fresh are unavailable.)
1 cup water or tomato juice (I used mostly water, and half the glass of pink wine I was sipping)
black pepper & cayenne, to taste
4 to 6 cloves of garlic, minced (Since we were doubling the recipe, and the enchilada filling also required nearly as much garlic, poor doctorconquest was chopping garlic for a really long time, and probably felt like he had entered some kind of Sisyphean garlic-chopping hell.)
- Sauté the onion and salt in olive oil about five minutes, until onions are translucent. Add cumin and chili powder, sauté another 5 minutes.
- Add chopped tomatoes and water or juice. Bring to a boil, partially cover, lower heat and simmer 30 minutes or so. Add black pepper, cayenne, and garlic towards the end of the simmering time. You can purée it when it's done if you want, but I left it chunky.
It all went well until we got to the simmering part. I had covered the sauce to bring it to a boil, and went to shift the lid over so it would be partially uncovered to simmer. Turns out, steam is hot, and one should really not have the delicate skin of one's wrist over the side of the lid that one is lifting. Also, ow. It's faded to a couple pink spots that sting a little now, but my wrist felt like it was on fire all night, even with ice. Seriously, don't do that. It's really unpleasant. But dinner was far from done, so I tied a tea towel full of ice to my wrist and resumed chopping things.
I based the rest of the meal on the Almond-Eggplant Enchiladas in The New Moosewood Cookbook.
Almond Eggplant Enchiladas
1 T. olive oil
1 c. fine diced onion
6 c. diced eggplant
1 - 2 tsp. salt
lots of ground black pepper
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 med. green bell pepper, minced
1 c. toasted almonds, chopped
1 packed cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese (or cheddar)
12 corn tortillas
1 batch enchilada sauce
Preheat oven to 350º. Heat the olive oil in a pan over medium heat. Add the onion and cook for about 5 minutes, until translucent. Add the eggplant, salt, pepper and mix well. Cover and cook for about 10 minutes stirring occasionally, until the eggplant is tender. Add the garlic and pepper. Stir in and cook for 5 minutes. Taste and adjust seasoning. Remove from heat, stir in almonds and cheese. Moisten each tortilla briefly in water, then place 1/4 cup of filling on one side and roll up. Place the Enchiladas in a 13x9 baking dish and cover with the enchilada sauce. Bake uncovered for 30 minutes, and serve with rice and beans.
Eggplant isn't really in season, so I used a pound of sliced crimini mushrooms, half a green bell pepper, and 1½ zucchini. I sautéed the mushrooms with a shallot till they started looking wilty, and added the zucchini at the same time as the bell pepper. Otherwise, we followed the recipe fairly closely. I have never gotten enchiladas to roll up neatly without the corn tortillas cracking, and last night was no exception. But that's ok, they were really, really yummy. We had more filling than tortilla space, so we spooned the remainder of the filling over the enchiladas before covering the whole thing with sauce.
Once we got the vegetarian enchiladas in the oven, I handed the reins over to doctorconquest to make a chicken filling for the second batch. I had heard of tequila-lime chicken, and suggested he might want to start there. This is when we learned a few more important lessons, the most innocuous being that you really shouldn't start sautéeing the shallots before your apprentice is done cutting up the chicken, because the latter operation takes rather longer than I had expected. Next we learned that opening a new bottle of plastic-cork-stoppered alcohol is not an operation that should be attempted one-handed, or even 1½-handed. Also, my wrist was still on fire. And now there is tequila on the floor. Clean up tequila on the floor, add tequila, lime juice, and garlic to chicken. Which is when we learned the fourth lesson of the evening: immediately after adding tequila to a pan of chicken is perhaps not the best time to take a whiff of what you're cooking to decide if it needs anything else. You get a faceful of tequila fumes, which looked like it was really unpleasant. Once the chicken was mostly done cooking, we added the other half of the green bell pepper and 1½ zucchini, and followed the above recipe from there. I very nearly learned a fifth lesson while standing out of the way as doctorconquest put together the chicken enchiladas. The lesson would have been: Don't lean on the counter where the pan of enchiladas that just came out of the oven is cooling. Fortunately, I figured this one out before burning my shoulder blades, and I moved to the other side of the kitchen.
I'm not sure if any of the meat-eaters had any of the vegetarian enchiladas, which were delicious. Judging by how quickly the three of them reduced two 8x8 pans of the chicken enchiladas to less than half a pan of enchiladas, I would venture to say the chicken ones were also delicious. The only thing I would change for next time (aside from all the exciting learning experiences) is I would use more tomatoes in the sauce. This isn't the recipe's fault: I used 8 or 10 of the small tomatoes (they're almost exactly halfway between the size of large cherry tomatoes and regular garden tomatoes), and I don't think it ended up being six cups.
I made margaritas to go with dinner, using my standard recipe: a jigger of each 1800 Reposado tequila and Cointreau, plus the juice of half a lime, for each glass. Shake and strain into martini glasses with salted rims.