Chicken & Cumin Enchiladas with Green Chili Sauce

This is the year I turn thirty. While I have six months to prepare myself for this milestone, it seems as though the train is running full steam ahead. At times, I feel like this thing-this obstacle, or what have you-came out of nowhere. And while sometimes my stomach tosses and turns at the thought, I often feel anxious to get there already, especially as I watch my friends, one by one, make the leap. Mostly, thirty feels exciting. I’ve been told, and have written about this before, that thirty feels different. It feels good. There is less comparison to others, a sense of security and confidence in oneself. And I suppose I am tired of feeling out of place, too old to be lumped together with those in their early twenties but not officially thirty.

This age range 20-30 feels so gigantic, and has included a number of major of changes in my life. However, people often talk about how age 30-40 is all the same. (Note to self: watch reruns of Thirtysomething, I might learn something useful). When I started my twenties, I was in college. I was about to graduate with a B.A. in psychology, and I was living completely unsure of what lay beyond the safety nets of college. I was dating my now-husband (Nathan), living with a friend near campus, and working part-time at Starbucks as a barista. After graduation, I spent a few weeks traveling in Europe, before settling into work with my father in the world of insurance. A few years later, Nathan and I finally tied the knot just as I dived into a new venture as a graduate student. We moved to a quaint 1920s era apartment on the top of Queen Anne Hill, where we housed an illegal-or at least under-the-radar-kitten. Fast forward to my late twenties: I am five years into my career, and on my second job. We have purchased our first home (not an easy task in Seattle), remodeled it (my lord-never again, or at least not anytime soon), and managed to raise an energetic Goldendoodle puppy on the side (remodel + puppy = major hiatus in normalcy!).
While chicken enchiladas may seem somewhat unrelated to this narrative, I can’t help but think of them as a marker of this time of tremendous change. These enchiladas were one of the first recipes I developed when I started investing time into cooking. I lived in an on-campus apartment with four women during my undergraduate years at the University of Washington, somewhere around my early twenties. Nathan lived two floors below. In that apartment, I started cooking regularly, and, gradually, I started becoming confident in my abilities. Retrospectively, this was a small miracle, given the old and dismal state-university kitchen with it’s fluorescent overhead lights, plastic laminate counter-tops, and makeshift appliances. While I shared the apartment, and consequently the kitchen, I found intervals of time where I could work alone, preparing meals for myself and Nathan who joined me regularly for dinner.

I hadn’t made these enchiladas since my early twenties. But this week, waxing philosophic about thirty, I felt an itch to whip up a batch. The memories came flooding back. And I realized again all the reasons why this was the most important dish of my twenty-something years. Moreover, they are at once easy to prepare, exceptionally delicious, and satisfying for a crowd. While these are loosely based off a few recipes here and there, I recognize now this Chicken and Cumin Enchilada recipe was the first recipe I could feel like I truly owned. Easily modified to be gluten- and dairy-free.
Chicken & Cumin Enchiladas with Green Chili Sauce
Serves 4-5 (and easily doubled)

Ingredients
8-10 medium flour tortillas (I prefer Mission Gluten-Free Tortillas for a gluten-free option)
1/2 cup onion, chopped
2 large garlic cloves, chopped
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 whole organic chicken, cooked and shredded (*see note below)
1-28 ounce can green chili sauce
1-2 tablespoons ground cumin
1/4-1/2 cup chicken broth
1/4 cup all purpose flour (or gluten-free all purpose, i.e., Namaste Perfect Flour Blend)
salt and pepper to taste

1-8 ounce package (about 2 cups) shredded mozzarella (use Daiya Mozzarella for a dairy-free option)
fresh cilantro, chopped

Directions
Preheat oven to 375°F.

In a large frying pan, heat olive oil on medium. Add chopped onion and cook until translucent. Add garlic and cook for 2-3 more minutes. Next, turn to low and add the prepared shredded chicken and cumin, and gently toss to combine. Then, add the broth and flour, and stir to combine until flour is incorporated in and the liquid has thickened slightly. Sprinkle in a handful of cheese at this point and remove the mixture from the stove.

Pour 1/4 cup of green enchilada sauce in the bottom of a 9×14 baking dish and swirl the dish around to coat the bottom of the dish. Next, fill the tortillas with the chicken and cumin mixture. Add about 1/4 to 1/3 cup of filling to each tortilla and evenly distribute within the middle. Wrap the tortilla to secure the filling inside and set in the baking dish with the crease on the bottom. Repeat with the remaining tortillas.

Next, cover the enchiladas with the green chili sauce, making sure to coat each tortilla to prevent any edges from drying out and burning in the oven. I usually prefer my enchiladas extremely saucy but feel free to reduce the amount of sauce, as preferred. Afterward, sprinkle the enchiladas with a couple handfuls of the mozzarella and bake for approximately 25 minutes, until the sauce bubbles and the enchiladas are slightly golden in color. Serve immediately with a sprinkle of fresh cilantro on top.

*Note: I buy a whole chicken (about 3 1/2 pounds) and cook it the day before in a slow-cooker, which is easy and produces juicy, succulent chicken that really sets these enchiladas apart. If you are in a pinch, grab a plain rotisserie chicken or a package of chicken thighs to boil on the stove and shred. If you are going the slower-cooker route (which I highly recommend), rinse the chicken and put in slow-cooker with the gizzards. Cover with water and set on high for 3 1/2 hours. Once cooked, remove chicken from slow-cooker and let cool in a large dish or bowl. Then, shred the chicken and set aside. (Get ready for some of the best and juiciest chicken you’ve tasted). Put the skin and bones back into the slow-cooker with the remaining liquid. Add 1 tablespoon of apple cider vinegar and put on high for 12-15 hours to create a rich bone broth for future use (risotto, chicken noodle soup!) or to use in place of store-bought chicken broth in this recipe. Filter broth using a cheesecloth and compost bones and skin.

Maple Donuts, Radio Cherry Bombe and Balance

I took a short run around the neighborhood park last Saturday afternoon, listening to a podcast called Radio Cherry Bombe led by Kerry Diamond and Claudia Wu, co-founders of Cherry Bombe Magazine, a publication celebrating women and food. The podcast highlights important woman in the culinary world through weekly interviews. My first time listening, I selected an old interview with Ruth Reichl, perhaps one of the most well-known and respected women in the food industry.

In the interview, Ruth and Kerry described the food industry as a “career of consumption” which couldn’t be more fitting. Those in the industry literally make a living through the consumption of food themselves, growing and making it for others, or writing about and styling it for the purpose of other people consuming and/or desiring to consume it. Later in the podcast, Ruth and Kerry discuss how many women in the food industry struggle with body image and eating habits. Specifically, how difficult it is to be in the world of food and stay thin because most people in the food industry are literally surrounded by food, be it a food reviewer whose job relies on the next dish they consume or restaurant they visit or a food blogger who tastes several phases of a dish before finally posting it online. They need to consume, in excess at times, in order to complete the work they do. This brief interview sent my mind into a whirlwind of thoughts. Particularly, the juxtaposition this creates of being part of a career of consumption, yet simultaneously obsessing over health, weight and body image. I myself am guilty of being obsessed with food, almost as an idol at times, while concurrently worrying about my health, body image and the impending doom my next baking experiment will inflict on my waist.I feel like this is a small glimpse into the lifelong battle I’ve been fighting with food. The balance between indulging in good food, whether it be at a new restaurant in town (which is often in Seattle) or baking up something in the kitchen, while trying to stay healthy and lean. I recall reading the book How French Women Stay Thin at an early age, hoping to extract any bit of advice to “stay thin”. I also remember the first time I started thinking about food as something bad, and engaging in self-deprivation. At one time I relied on an orange creme Yoplait non-fat yogurt for breakfast daily, followed by another one at lunch with a little granola on top, and then something small for dinner. No snacks. I ate the same thing twice a day because my brother’s girlfriend at the time told me that was the key to losing weight.Sitting here now, just after finishing a run and about to whip up a batch of baked donuts I’ve been dreaming about all week, this seems ridiculous. I cannot even imagine depriving myself of food since it is such an integral part of my life. But I think it is my early obsession with food that led me to my love of the culinary world. I still struggle today in various ways and will certainly do so for the rest of my life in some capacity. It is funny how the things you are most passionate about in life can also cause the most grief and pain. I’ve tried to overcome this through the words of Geneen Roth or other such novels on food and balance, with no such avail. But each day, I strive for balance. I fail often but I am beginning to accept how things are. And that’s why I can go for a run, do a few sit-ups and eat some cookies (or donuts, in this case).

While not your typical fried donuts, these baked ones are delicious. Crisp around the edges and chewy in the middle. They have a hint of nutmeg, thick maple frosting and a sprinkle of large smoked sea salt granules on top.  Additionally, they are gluten-free and vegan and make a nice addition to any brunch or breakfast potluck.Gluten-Free, Vegan Maple Donuts with Smoked Sea Salt

Modified from Peas and Thank You
Makes 10-12 donuts

Ingredients
Donuts
1 1/2 cup all-purpose gluten-free flour (i.e. Namaste) (or substitute 1/2 cup sorghum flour, though the result is a bit chewier)
1 Tablespoon baking powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 cup melted vegan butter (i.e. Earth Balance)
3/4 cup unsweetened almond milk, or other non-dairy milk
1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract
2/3 cup sugar

Frosting
1/2 cup vegan butter (i.e. Earth Balance), softened
2 cups powdered sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons maple extract
splash of almond milk (about 1 Tablespoon)
smoked sea salt (i.e. Trader Joe’s)

Directions
Preheat oven to 350°. Grease or butter donut pan. In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, salt and nutmeg. In a small bowl, whisk together melted butter, milk, vanilla and sugar until the sugar is dissolved. Add liquid mixture to the flour and stir until just combined. With a small spoon, fill donut cups with batter. Use a knife to smooth out batter, if necessary. Bake for 15-20 minutes, depending on the size of donuts until firm to touch. Allow donuts to cool in pan for about 5 minutes and then transfer to cooling rack.

While the donuts are cooling, make the frosting. Beat together butter until light and fluffy. Add the maple and mix until combined. Add powdered sugar 1/2 cup at a time until it is thick and creamy. Add a splash of milk to thin, however, you want the frosting to be thick so it holds up on the donuts.

Once cooled, frost donuts and top with smoked sea salt. Store leftovers in a sealed container at room temperature or refrigerated.