Recipe for Beef Enchiladas With Flour Tortillas Food Network

Enchiladas from my real, live Mexican great uncle. It's true! (So what if it was only by marriage, and so what if I have absolutely no interesting ethnicity in my bloodstream?) My mom has made these enchiladas for decades, and I feel I have been commissioned to pass them on to you.

---

Okay, people. Let's get down to business here. Let's make enchiladas!

Did you know that in addition to having an imaginary black grandpa, I actually had a great uncle from Mexico? It's true! And so what if it was only by marriage, and so what if I have absolutely no interesting ethnicity in my bloodstream? See, my dad's dad, who died before I was born, rest his soul, had a sister named Fleda Mae, rest her soul, and Fleda Mae was married to a Mexican man named Luchan, rest his soul. I remember both Fleda Mae and Luchan fondly, but besides their friendly, loving nature and the fact that they lived in Bakersfield, California, I don't remember too much about them. I do remember Fleda Mae's high pitched and very sweet voice. And I definitely remember Luchan's enchiladas.

My mom has made these enchiladas for decades, after Luchan showed her the way, the truth, and the life, and that no one can come to the enchilada except through him. Once my mother became a believer, she passed that belief onto me and my other siblings, and I feel I have been commissioned to pass the love on to you.

So c'mon—let's get rrrready to rrrrrrumble!

Before we begin, let me explain that there are three separate components to these enchiladas: THE SAUCE. THE MEAT. And THE REST. So I'll split up the Cast of Characters accordingly.

For the sauce, you'll need canned Mexican red sauce (or enchilada sauce), low sodium chicken broth, canola oil, flour, salt, pepper, and cilantro. Let me repeat: this is for THE SAUCE.

Let's get the sauce going first. Okay? Okay. Throw 1 tablespoon canola oil into a medium saucepan, followed by 1 tablespoon flour. Whisk it together over medium-low heat.

Keep whisking as it cooks, and continue cooking for about 2 or 3 minutes. This is the base for the sauce. Luchan said so!

Pour in the red sauce (note that some canned Mexican sauce is quite PICOSO [look it up] so you'll want to do your homework if you're sensitive to flames shooting from your eyeballs) and chicken broth and stir the mix together.

Add 1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper. Yeah. I mean the powdery stuff. Also add 1/2 teaspoon salt.

Give the sauce a good stir, and let it simmer on really low heat while you mess around with the other stuff.

Now. let's make THE MEAT!

For the meat, you'll need…well, MEAT. Ground beef, onion, canned diced green chilies, and salt. Not cilantro. It sneaked into the photo. Sorry. Happens.

Begin by dicing the onion. Are you tired of my showing you how to dice an onion? Because I don't see myself stopping anytime soon. I'm all about breaking things down here on The Pioneer Woman Cooks.

Throw the onions into a large skillet with a tablespoon or so of canola oil. Saute over medium heat for a couple of minutes.

Then brown the hamburger. Once it's brown, dump in two cans of green chilies. (Oh, and you can drain the fat off the hamburger before adding the chilies if you feel like being a health nut or a responsible citizen.)

Go ahead and add a little salt to the meat. Now turn off the heat and tell the meat to cool its heels for awhile.

Next component: THE REST.

For THE REST, you'll need corn tortillas, chopped black olives, sliced green onions, and freshly grated sharp cheddar cheese. I say "freshly grated" because although I have nothing whatsoever against convenience foods—I think I've established that here, ad nauseam—I find that grating cheddar cheese from a block results in a yummier, melty-er cheesy goodness. You'll just have to trust me on this one.

Plus, it's cheaper that way! Love, Mrs. Frugal.

Yeah, right.

Anyway, in a small skillet over medium heat, fry individual corn tortillas just until soft.

You don't want them to get crispy at all—just soft and a little blistered, about 30 seconds per side. Place tortillas on a paper towel-lined plate and keep warm while you finish them all up.

Now, back to THE SAUCE:

Right at the end, throw in 2 to 3 tablespoons chopped cilantro. Give it a stir.

Now it's time to ASSEMBLE the enchiladas.

One by one, using tongs, dip each tortilla into the warm sauce. (Sometimes the tortillas are such that they'll fall apart if you leave them in the sauce too long. Just gauge the tortillas as you go and you'll be fine.)

"Gauge the tortillas as you go…" That's a really weird phrase.

Lay the sauce-coated tortillas flat, then spoon on some of the meat mixture and a some of the chopped black olives.

Note: if you hate black olives, don't be deterred by its presence in this dish. You'll hardly know they're there—they'll just add a tangy saltiness and texture that'll really take the enchiladas over the top. Please. Please don't be afraid.

Next, add a spoonful of green onions…

And plenty of grated cheddar.

Next, roll up the tortilla and place it seam down in a baking dish.

Now just repeat that process with all tortillas until everything's gone:

Dip tortilla in sauce, then add meat, then add olives, then add green onions…

Then add cheese. Never, EVER forget the cheese. Luchan wouldn't be happy.

Once you get them all into a baking dish (this one's on the small side, so I had to use a second to fit in all the enchiladas I made), pour THE SAUCE over the top.

If you like a lot of sauce, and I do, really lay it on thick. If you like things a little less over the top, well, take it easy.

Just don't tell Luchan if you do. He liked to lay it on thick.

And of course, we must top it all off with plenty of freshly grated cheddar cheese.

Plenty, I say…PLENTY!

Now just bake it in a 350 degree oven for about 20 minutes, or until cheese is melted and enchiladas are bubbly and your appetite has shot through your roof, leaving an unsightly hole.

Remove the pan from the oven and sprinkle a bunch of chopped cilantro on top. I can't tell you the difference this cilantro makes in the flavor and beauty of the dish.

Also, give the enchiladas a sprinkle of green onions. That gives it a nice flavor pop, too.

"Flavor pop…" Good one, Ree. Good one.

Mmmm. Goodness gracious sakes alive, I can't tell you how good this smells. It smells like tiny, sparkly enchilada fairies have waved their magic wands in my kitchen.

I usually serve 'em up two at a time. They're a little on the rich side.

And you know what? It takes about a second for forks to start digging in.

Oh! Don't forget the sour cream, especially if you use the canned Mexican red sauce I used. Muy, muy picoso.

Is your mouth watering yet?

Mine is. And this is a problem. Because I made the enchiladas in this photo several days ago. And they're now gone. They were gone within ten minutes.

I think I shall now have a good, cleansing cry.

This content is created and maintained by a third party, and imported onto this page to help users provide their email addresses. You may be able to find more information about this and similar content at piano.io

kittlesonlathand74.blogspot.com

Source: https://www.thepioneerwoman.com/food-cooking/recipes/a11533/simple-perfect-enchiladas/

Share this post