Springtime Socca

Socca, farinita, torta di ceci, cecina.  I've never been to Nice and I didn't run across this treat in the few days I was in Liguria this past summer, but let me tell you; my recent discovery of these savory chickpea crepes is the perfect base for whipping up a simple spring dinner. A quick search tells me there are a million different variations on socca - paper thin and lacy, pancake-like, chopped soft herbs mixed into the batter, baked or broiled - and there are probably strong opinions from all sides on the proper way to make socca, but I'll take them in any form.  With a slight nutty and bean-y flavor, the savory possibilities for enjoyment are practically endless. [Note: I tried them topped with a bit of nut butter and honey one morning and wasn't totally sold on them in their sweet iteration.]

I've been terrible these past few weeks in shopping the farmer's market with a clear dinner plan for the upcoming days.  Instead I've been scooping all the new spring produce into my arms and cobbling together meal plans on the fly.  Even though it's just San Francisco and the winter "season" isn't all that much to write about, months still pass where all you see are dark leafy greens, piles of citrus and the earth tones of root vegetables, it's hard not to get giddy about spring's new crop of offerings. Pea tendrils! Strawberries! Fava beans! Snap and shelling peas! Radishes! Baby carrots!

Armed with a fridge newly full of vegetables and a bag of Bob's Red Mill chickpea flour, I figured I'd give socca for dinner a go.  The pea shoots were roughly torn, the favas slipped out of their pods, quickly blanched and then popped out of their jackets, avocado was sliced and a handful of pine nuts was toasted.  I made a quick dressing of some very nice balsamic vinegar and walnut oil and the salad was done.  I went with a thicker, more pancake-like version of socca so I could slice it into triangles and put the salad over the top and not need to worry about the sog factor, but stuffing the salad into a thinner crepe would be just as nice.  The only advance planning needed here is to let the socca batter sit for about an hour to let the bean flour absorb the water and make it a nice pourable consistency.  Do this before you shell the favas, toast the pine nuts, and assemble the salad and the timing should work out to where there isn't too much waiting around.

Springtime Socca

There is so much you could do with this recipe - add in a handful of chopped herbs like basil, mint, tarragon or parsley to the socca batter, thinly sliced radishes would be a pretty addition to the salad portion, use shelling peas instead of favas, arugula instead of pea tendrils, and I think some fresh goat cheese dolloped over the top or crumbled feta would really take this to the next level.  Play around.  Try the socca as thicker, sliced pancakes or tuck the salad into a folded over thin crepe

4 servings (either 2 thick socca divided or 4 thinner crepes)

1 cup chickpea flour

1 cup water

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 1/2 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for cooking

8 oz pea tendrils, roughly torn

1 pound fava beans, shelled, blanched and slipped out of their skins

1 avocado, sliced

1/4 cup pinenuts, toasted

1 tablespoon balsamic vinegar

1 tablespoon walnut oil

salt & pepper

2 soft boiled eggs (optional)

In a bowl, mix the chickpea flour, water, salt and olive oil with a whisk until smooth. Set aside for about an hour. If you are adding a handful of chopped herbs, add that in too before whisking.

Wash, dry and gently tear the pea tendrils into manageable salad pieces and put into a bowl.  Remove the favas from their pod and set a small pot of salted water to boil on the stove. [To make the shelling easier, run a Y-shaped vegetable peeler down one of the seam sides of the pod, they should now open easily as you run your finger down and pop the beans out.] Once the water is boiling, blanch the favas for about 2 minutes, or until they all rise to the surface of the water and you can hear a slight hissing sound.  Drain and rinse under cold water to stop the cooking, then pop the beans out of their jackets and into your bowl of pea tendrils.  Toast your pine nuts in a small skillet over medium heat until  golden and slice your avocado.

Heat a small skillet (mine is 8" across) over medium high heat and coat the bottom of the pan with olive oil.  If making a thicker socca, pour half the batter into the pan and cook until the bottom begins to brown, about 3-4 minutes.  Carefully flip it over and cook the other side for another 2-3 minutes until the edges are crispy and both sides are a deep golden in spots.  Remove from pan onto a cutting board and repeat for second half of batter.  Use the same technique for the thinner crepes, using just 1/4 of the batter each time and reduce the cooking time by about a minute per side.  Cut thicker socca into 4 pieces each (2 triangles per plate) or place one of the thinner crepes flat on each plate.

Dress the pea tendrils and fava beans with the balsamic vinegar and walnut oil and season with salt and pepper.  Divide between the 4 plates and top each with some sliced avocado, toasted pine nuts and sliced soft boiled egg if using.  For the thinner crepes, place the salad on one half of socca and fold the other half over after topping the salad.

Mung Bean Dal

I am a compulsive cabinet opener and refrigerator rummager.  When I'm at home and think that I might be getting hungry, or even if I'm not hungry but instead just bored, I will open and close all the food storage places in my kitchen and promptly declare that there is "no food in this house". This is an activity I'll partake in countless times each day.  D does the same, though not quite as frequently. And, embarrassed as I may be to admit this, I'll poke around in pretty much anyone's kitchen if we know each other well enough, except I won't announce there is no food to be had.  I'll instead be delighted at all the new options before me.  It's a bad habit and a waste of energy, but that hasn't stopped me yet.

Now picture this: it's Monday and the weather outside is doing it's very best at being discouraging with rain and hail and thunderstorms. I had played the rummaging game at least five times, and five times convinced myself there was no food in the house, yet there was still dinner to be made.  I could run to the store and get dinner provisions, but that would mean braving the weather and possibly losing my parking spot right out front.  Not into it.  Take out?  Just couldn't get excited about that either. I can be so cheap sometimes. And then - I don't know the exact sequence of events that took place - I must have stumbled across an idea online while moping that made me remember the (huge) stash of Indian pantry items in the often overlooked corner of cabinets which then turned into a brainstorming session and voila!  A mung bean dal with homemade roti was slapped onto the evening's menu.

I won't try and vouch for authenticity here (I mean really, I put kale in the damn thing), and it's not much of a looker, but it makes up for all of that in tasty. Yes, I cut corners; used green onions instead of diced yellow onion, ground ginger and cayenne instead of their fresh counterparts.  Like I said, I really didn't want to leave the house.  I also wasn't following any kind of recipe here.  After a quick search confirmed that mung bean dal was indeed a thing, I just kind of improvised from there.  Except the roti, I used a recipe/tutorial for that.

The dal was earthy from the turmeric and sizzled cumin seeds, and I love the way the mung beans start breaking down after cooking just past the point of doneness and thicken it all up.  A few big handfuls of thinly sliced kale into the mix for virtue and you could hardly ask for more on a rainy evening.

Mung Bean Dal

I'm writing the recipe here not quite as I made it, but with fewer shortcuts than I took, though I don't imagine it'll make a huge difference in the final product.  I tried spooning a dollop of yogurt into the last half of my bowl, but I found it muted the flavors more than I'd like.  However, if you've got it around, a good sprinkle of cilantro right at the end would probably be nice.

4 (smallish) servings

1 cup dried mung beans
4 cups water
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon cumin seeds
1/2 yellow onion, diced
4 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon finely minced or pasted ginger root
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1 teaspoon turmeric
salt to taste (about 1/2 teaspoon)
2 cups finely sliced dino kale
juice of half a lemon

Sort through the beans to make sure there aren't any stones, then rinse under cold water and drain. In a medium sized pot, add the rinsed mung beans and cover with 4 cups of water.  Bring to a boil and then reduce heat to low and cover, cooking for about 30 minutes, or until they begin to soften and just fall apart.  You may have to check the water level a few times and give it all a stir to keep things from sticking to the bottom of the pan, but just add in enough water to get things moving again and you should be fine.

Once the mung beans are done cooking, in another medium sauté pan (I just transferred the beans to bowl, washed the pot and reused it), melt the butter and olive oil over medium heat.  Add in the cumin seeds and as soon as they start to sizzle add the diced onion and give it a good stir.  Cook until the onion is translucent then add in the garlic and ginger and cook for 1 minute more.  Add turmeric and cayenne and give the whole thing a few good stirs until everything becomes real fragrant then add the mung beans, scraping the bottom of the pan to get all the good bits off.  Add about a 1/2 teaspoon salt and taste to see if it needs more.  At this point, you may want to evaluate the thickness of your dal.  If you want it looser, add a bit more water 1/4 cup at a time, if you want it thicker, simmer it for a few minutes more.  Once you've reached a consistency you like, toss in your kale and squeeze half a lemon's worth of juice into the whole thing and stir to combine.

Serve with roti or naan and maybe a sprinkle of chopped cilantro too.

It's Been a Journey

It's daunting to sit down again and type.  To think of everything that has happened since my last post, all the excuses I have for abandoning this space, all the food that's been cooked, everything that has changed and all that hasn't.  I think about that, and then I try to figure out how best to re-enter this little world.  I'm drawing a blank.  A big fat blank.

But I check the stats every so often and it seems, however incomprehensibly, there are still those of you who still stumble upon these pages of my past.  I get the occasional nudges from friends or family who'd like to see this blog resurrected - how is it that you haven't given up entirely?  I didn't mean to leave you hanging.

So, let's give this one more go, yeah?

I thought about dredging up some older recipes and just playing a bit of catch up, but that idea poses a few problems.  1) I pretty much stopped taking pictures of what I was making except for a few random Instagram snaps.  I'm not trying to recreate past social media feeds in this space.  2) There's a very high chance that the recipes I really want to tell you about would be seasonally inappropriate at this juncture.  Zucchini noodles in the dead of February?   I wish.  You'll just have to wait.  In the meantime I offer you a compromise.  A new-to-me recipe with an iPhone photo!  (Baby steps, okay.)

Radicchio, and chicories in general, are fast becoming one of my favorite winter ingredients.  They bring a refreshing pop of color when we're buried in a sea of earth tones and deep green at the market.  Their bitterness balances out the hearty, fatty dishes we crave as the temperatures drop.  And if you've never grilled radicchio or escarole before you're truly missing out.  Their sharp bite of bitter softens and new flavors of smoke and caramelized sweetness come out to play.

Here, however, there is just raw and vibrant radicchio.  We want it's natural bite, it's bitterness tamed by creamy cannellini beans, rotisserie chicken and the bright snap of a parsley-lemon vinaigrette.  A few stalks of thinly sliced celery and some scallions for good measure and dinner is served.  It's preparation is simple, but the flavors are not.  It's earthy, but lively.  This is the kind of salad you keep diving your fork into, bite after bite, until there's nothing left on the plate.  This will get you out of your winter rut.

White Bean and Radicchio Salad with Parsley Vinaigrette
adapted from Bon Apetit, April 2012

I used rotisserie chicken because I had some that needed using up but the original recipe calls for a high quality tuna packed in olive oil, either would be great, really.  Whatever you do, don't leave one or the other out, it'll mess up the perfect balance this salad has going on.  Also switched up the vinaigrette to make it a little more acidic and less heavy on the olive oil.

serves 4

1 cup (packed) flat-leaf parsley
3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
3 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon champagne vinegar
1 garlic clove, crushed
salt & pepper


1 medium head of radicchio, cored, leaves coarsely torn
1 15-ounce can cannellini beans, rinsed, drained
2 celery stalks, sliced thinly on an extreme diagonal
1 cup shredded rotisserie chicken
2 scallions, thinly sliced

Vinaigrette:
Pulse parsley, oil, lemon juice, vinegar, and garlic in a blender until well blended. Season to taste with salt and pepper.

Salad:
Place radicchio and celery in a large bowl; drizzle with a few tablespoons parsley vinaigrette and toss to coat. Season radicchio to taste with salt and pepper. Transfer to a serving platter, spreading out in an even layer. Arrange cannellini beans and shredded chicken and sliced scallions on top of the radicchio. Drizzle with a little more vinaigrette if desired.

By Way of the Tropics

Ever since I started working at the restaurant, an increasing number of the meals I make at home have been vegan.  Not intentionally, I never really sat down and made that conscious decision, but it's the truth.  First there was the sautee of corn, greens, red onion and zucchini doused in lime juice and Louisiana hot sauce that was so good/easy that I made it at least four times in about twice as many days.  Then there was a lentil and vegetable curry that only reminded me how lacking my curry skills are, but was tasty none the less.  And now?  Now there is this Caribbean delight of coconut scented rice, black beans and fried plantains, accented with a bit mango salsa.

I could eat this. Every. Single. Day.  The slightly crisp skin the ripe plantains get from a light pan fry, their sweet creamy interiors balanced so perfectly with a sprinkle of salt.  The coconut scented rice and spicy mango salsa sending your thoughts immediately to tropical beaches and vacations and fancy drinks that come garnished with umbrellas.  And if you ask me, you can never go wrong with a fresh pot of black beans along with some avocado.  What's even better?  You can probably whip this whole thing up for under $5.

Not only am I all about tasty food, I'm also all about being thrifty.

As perfect as I found this to be - I mean it.  Totally swoon-worthy.  New summertime staple. - there is so much you can play around with here.  You can use any type of long-grain rice, even consider tossing in a handful of shaved coconut while the rice cooks.  Use peaches or nectarines or pineapple in place of the mango.  If you're feeling brave, use a bit of habanero instead of the serrano chili.  Just be sure to cook up your own pot of beans, canned just doesn't begin to compare, and use the ripest plantains you can find.

Coconut Rice, Black Beans and Plantains
Adapted from Herbivoracious

Take the extra time and cook up a pot of black beans instead of buying the canned ones. And don't forget the epazote, they make the beans just that much more magical. Every element of this dish is fantastic on its own, but together they're out of this world. You can substitute any long grain rice here; plain, jasmine, basmati and light coconut milk works too. The Manila mango is great for its creamy firm texture without any of those nasty fibers, but if mango fibers aren't an issue for you, go ahead and use whatever variety smells fragrant and sweet. Also, be sure to select plantains that have a significant amount of black spots, these ones are sweeter and better for a quick pan fry.

4 servings

Beans:
1 cup dried black beans
1 large sprig epazote
1/2 small onion, finely diced
salt

Mango Salsa:
1 Manila mango, cut into small cubes
1/2 - 1 serrano chili, minced (depending on how much heat you'd like)
1/3 cup red onion, finely diced
a handful cilantro, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
salt
1/2 lime, juiced

Coconut Rice:
1 cup basmati rice
1 cup coconut milk
1 cup water

2 plantains (about 1 pound), peeled and cut into 1/4" thick coins
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
avocado, sliced, for topping

For the beans:  Cover beans by about 3 inches with cool water and let soak overnight.  The next day, drain liquid and place beans in a medium pot.  Add the sprig of epazote and diced onion and cover with about 2 1/2 cups water.  Bring to a boil over medium heat then reduce to a simmer and cook, partially covered for 1 hour, adding water as necessary to keep the beans submerged.  After an hour, beans should be soft and creamy, but still hold their shape and there should still be some pot liquer.  Remove epazote and season with about a 1/2 teaspoon of salt.

For the rice:  In a fine mesh strainer, rinse the basmati rice 2 or 3 times in cool water, then drain well.  Put in a pot and cover with 1 cup of coconut milk and 1 cup of water.  Bring to a boil, then reduce heat to the lowest setting, cover and cook for 20 minutes.  Remove from heat and let stand, still covered, for another 10 minutes.

For the salsa: add all the chopped ingredients to a bowl, season with salt and lime juice.  Puree half of the salsa in a blender or food processor until you reach a thick but slightly chunky texture.  Mix back into the remaining salsa and set aside.

Just before serving, peel and slice plantains.  In a large skillet (I used nonstick) over medium heat, add 2 tablespoons of vegetable oil.  Lay plantain slices in a single layer and cook until golden brown, about 4 minutes, then flip and cook the other side for 3 minutes more, sprinkle with kosher salt.  Serve with the coconut rice, black beans, a big spoonful of the mango salsa and sliced avocado.

Lebanese Dreams

I'll be honest.  I really just made these falafels as an excuse to showcase and devour more of a big batch of pickled turnips I made.  Bright magenta and oh-so-snappy, I love Lebanese pickled turnips.

Dont even turn your nose up at the idea of pickled turnips, they are crazy good and resemble their cooked and/or raw counterparts in almost no way.  I know, because after this past winter, me and turnips are no longer on speaking terms.  It started out nice, I would roast them with our dinner and D and I would happily munch away, proclaiming not to understand people's strong distaste for the vegetable.  But week after week, a giant bag of them tucked into every single veggie box, I've come to understand.  Turnips, I am so over you.

Still, I am not one to just waste food and there was one last bag of snowy white orbs lingering in my crisper drawer.  And then I saw the big bunch of beets next to them.  Inspiration struck; I would make pickles.  Their zippy crunch is the perfect counterpart to a falafel sandwich slathered in a garlicy yogurt-tahini sauce and tucked into plenty of lettuce, tomatoes and cucumber.

Did you know that falafels are made from chickpeas that have only been soaked and not cooked? Me neither. I was even a bit skeptical of the whole idea, but decided to push forward after recipe upon recipe yielded the same instructions - to soak the beans for 24 hours and not cook them before frying. After their day long soak, the beans are just soft enough to process into a crumbly puree along with an onion, a big handful of fresh parsley leaves and some other spices, without becoming a soggy mush. A little hot oil in a heavy skillet and a few minutes to cook on each side and you've got some mighty fine falafels.

Since the only cooking time the beans ever see in a quick fry in oil, you can expect a whole different flavor and texture experience.  The insides are moist but crumble just enough and you get a more pronounced starchy bean flavor rather than fully cooked chickpea's typical sweet and creamy taste.  There's a great supporting cast of spices and a bit of heat from cayenne pepper that recall memories of the falafels served at a Lebanese deli just down the street from where I grew up.  Mark Bittman, who this recipe is from, cautions that you'll need a food processor or a heavy duty blender to get the job done, but my wimpy blender prevailed once again and turned out excellent falafel mix in two batches.

I'm only sorry I didn't double the recipe so I could freeze them and have more on hand for when my next pickled turnip craving hits.

Falafel Sandwiches
Adapted from Mark Bittman

As comfortable as I am in the kitchen, I'm still not comfortable with the idea of deep frying, so I more or less pan fried these falafels after shaping them into little patties.  They still got a nice crispy crust on them and held their shape well, so I'd call it successful tweak to the original recipe.  I didn't change much else, but might suggest one more clove of garlic and a bit more salt.

6 to 8 servings

falafels:
1 3/4 cup dried chickpeas
2 large cloves garlic, lightly crushed
1 small onion, quartered
1 teaspoon ground coriander
1 tablespoon ground cumin
1 scant teaspoon cayenne
1 cup chopped parsley or cilantro leaves
1 teaspoon salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon lemon juice
Neutral oil, like grapeseed or corn, for frying

sandwich:
whole wheat pita or flatbread

cucumber

tomato

lettuce

pickled turnips

tahini sauce (equal parts plain yogurt and tahini, seasoned with pressed/grated/minced garlic, salt, and lemon juice, thin with water to reach desired consistency.)


Put beans in a large bowl and cover with water by 3 or 4 inches; they will triple in volume. Soak for 24 hours, adding water if needed to keep beans submerged.

Drain beans well (reserving a bit of the soaking water) and transfer to a food processor. Add remaining ingredients except oil; pulse until finely minced, just shy of puréed, scraping sides of bowl down; add soaking water if necessary to allow machine to do its work, but no more than 1 or 2 tablespoons. Keep pulsing until mixture comes together. Taste, adding salt, pepper, cayenne or lemon juice to taste.

Put oil in a heavy skillet, like cast iron, to a depth of about 1/4 inch.  The narrower the saucepan the less oil you need, but the more oil you use the more patties you can cook at a time. Turn heat to medium-high and heat oil to about 350 degrees (a pinch of batter will sizzle immediately). Scoop a heaping tablespoon of batter into your hands and shape into a small patty about 2-3 inches in diameter. Fry in batches, without crowding, until nicely browned, about 4 minutes per side.

Assemble each sandwich with two patties and your choice of toppings.

The Great (Veggie Burger) Hunt

I am a woman obsessed. On an endless quest for the perfect veggie burger, and not the store bought kind either.  My teenage years spent as a vegetarian ruined those for me.  Plus, let's not kid ourselves, they're a rather processed food.

I don't want a veggie burger that's trying to be anything like meat.  No offense to regular burgers out there - because I love those too - it's just that I don't see the point of not eating meat but still wishing that it's replacement was vaguely meaty.  My ideal veggie burger would be free of the sog factor and not one bit mushy. It would retain it's ability to stand up to a good bun.  It would be a big vegetable party in my mouth.  

If I had any intelligence my quest would have stopped here.  I would have just put the search on permanent sabbatical and called it a day.  No really, those beet burgers are out of control delicious (if a bit labor intensive) and I would happily eat them forever.  But no.  I still give into the draw of each new veggie burger recipe I come across, hoping and praying that this next one will be "the one".  Alas, most are not and I'm left disappointed.

This burger though, it has great potential.  It's got the flavor down and it's not too fussy to make.  Black beans and quinoa are a great pair.  The beans kinda glue the patty together and the nutty flavor of the quinoa makes for a hearty flavor.  Studded throughout with bits of roasted red pepper and cilantro and enhanced with earthy spiced like cumin and paprika, this veggie burger was about this close to perfect.  Where it falls short is in the texture department.  It still mushes out the sides of the bun, it still crumbles if not perfectly balanced when stacked with ingredients.

However, I'm fairly confident that this is a correctable problem.  Adding a few eggs to the mixture before chilling would probably go a long way towards helping this patty retain a sturdy shape.  (I was hoping the addition of panko crumbs and the chilling before cooking would be the golden ticket, but you know, live and learn.)  I kept the preparation pretty standard - lettuce, tomato, red onion, mayonnaise and a good bun - and I'd recommend the same to you.  There's already a lot going on in there, no need to pile much more on.

And if you try them with eggs?  Please report back.  The weather is warming up and I see the need for veggie burgers in my life greatly increasing.


Quinoa and Black Bean Burgers

There are two parts here I know you'll be tempted to skip, but please don't.   The first is chilling the mixture in the fridge for about an hour.  The second is finishing them off in the oven.  The thing about veggie burgers is that they tend to be a little too moist and squishy in the center and that time in the fridge help the panko crumbs suck up excess moisture and the extra 20 minutes in the oven helps them firm up. That being said, mine still wanted very badly to crumble and fall apart (but not nearly as bas as when I didn't bake them!), so I think the addition of 2 or so eggs to the mixture would have really helped.

8 veggie burgers

1- 15 oz. can black beans, rinsed and drained
2 cups cooked quinoa
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 large shallot, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 roasted red bell pepper, diced
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1.4 teaspoon ground coriander
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon red pepper flakes
1 cup panko bread crumbs
1 cup cilantro leaves, loosely packed


In a medium sized pan heat 1 tablespoon of the olive oil. Sautee shallots just until translucent (1-2 minutes), then add garlic and sautee about 30 seconds more. Toss in the roasted red bell pepper and turn off the heat.

Next, in a food processor, add the beans, sauteed shallot mixture, cumin, smoked paprika, and good pinch of salt and pepper. Pulse until just combined. Add the cooked quinoa and cilantro and again pulse until combined and cilantro has been chopped up a bit. Remove to bowl, add panko crumbs and stir. Let sit in the fridge for 30 minutes to an hour.

Preheat oven to 350F.

Form mixtures into palm-sized or slightly larger burger patties, you should get about 8.

Heat remaining oil in the same pan you cooked the shallots in. Sear each patty for about 3-4 minutes on each side until nice and browned. Transfer to a cookie sheet and bake for an additional 20 minutes.

Assemble as you like and eat!

An Enchilada Tale

And now for my next trick, I give you a rather involved and lengthy recipe for enchiladas.

I'm pretty hardcore loyal to quite a few recipes.  My way or the highway kind of loyal.  I only have eyes (and tastebuds) for the way I've come to love a dish, loyal.  Enchiladas are such a dish.

If we're talking chicken enchiladas, my one and only is Rick Bayless's Enchiladas Suizas.  A creamy, tomatoey and spicy affair that, aside from making the sauce, is simple and straight forward.  Good fresh corn tortillas are key.  Most likely they will try and fall apart as you take them out of the pan.  They may not look pretty and perfect on a plate.  In fact they tend to resemble a messy heap rather than an enchilada.  None of this bothers me because I love them so.  What they may lack in looks they sure have in flavor.

If we're going the less traditional and vegetarian route, D's Dad makes these killer tofu, mushroom and green onion enchiladas that the family calls "pincheladas".  I don't know the whole story but what I gather is that the name is in reference to the spiciness of the  enchilada sauce, "pinche" being a not-so-nice Mexican slang word.  They're earthy and bright at the same time and I especially love the unexpected addition of rosemary.  Again, good corn tortillas are key (they always are).

That's it.  That's all I need.  Just those two recipes for enchiladas and I'm set.  But then I ran across this recipe and it somehow lodged itself it my brain and the only way to stop thinking about it was to make it.  Boy am I glad I did.  They're the opposite of what I like most about the above two enchilada recipes.  There's quite a few steps, the sauce is thick and creamy and they're made with flour tortillas.

The result is larger-than-usual enchiladas, stuffed with chicken, black beans, sauteed zucchini and just the right amount of cheese to hold it all together.  Here you don't need to seek out the best tortillas, just whatever your local grocery store happens to have.  The homemade goodness of fresh flour tortillas would be too rich, giving them too much weight and likely making the whole thing a bit doughy.  As it is the tortillas soak up a good amount of sauce ensuring that every bite has just enough heat from the jalapeno (use one with a good kick to it) and just enough heft from sour cream to keep you satisfied.  A pop of color from sliced green onions and fresh cilantro leaves and I just may keep this recipe in my arsenal for future use.

Chicken and Black Bean Enchiladas
Adapted from In the Small Kitchen


The original printed recipe made double this amount and split it into 2 distinct batches.  One with the black bean and zucchini filling, the other with chicken.  However in the headnotes it offers the suggestion for combining the two and since I don't really need TWO 13x9 pans of enchiladas I first halved the recipe, then incorporated the filling recipes together.  For all the work you do though, if you want to make it worth more of your time, wait until you have a crowd to feed and double this one up.

makes 8 largish enchiladas

filling:
1 boneless, skinless chicken breast, poached (about 3/4 lb)
1 tablespoon dijon mustard
1/2 red onion, diced
1/2 pound zucchini, cut into 1/4 in dice
1 clove garlic, minced
1/2 - 3/4 cup black beans
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon oregano
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/4 cup chopped cilantro leaves

sauce:
1 tablespoons butter
1 clove garlic, minced
1 jalapeño, minced
1 tablespoons all-purpose flour
1 cup chicken stock
1 cup sour cream
4 oz can fire-roasted mild green chiles
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
Cayenne pepper, to taste

enchiladas:
Eight 8-inch flour tortillas
1⁄2 pound Monterey Jack cheese, shredded and divided
cilantro leaves
Thinly sliced scallions

Make the filling:
Allow the poached chicken to cool slightly, then shred the breasts using two forks or your fingers. Set the meat aside and toss with 1 tablespoon dijon mustard.

Add just enough olive oil to a large nonstick or cast-iron skillet to coat the surface and place it over medium heat. Sauté the onion until softened, 5 to 8 minutes. Add the zucchini and continue to sauté, stirring occasionally, until the zucchini is tender and browned, another 6 minutes or so. Add the garlic, beans, chili powder, cumin, and salt, and cook until the beans are tender and the garlic is fragrant, about 5 minutes. Let cool for a bit then mix in the shredded chicken and chopped cilantro.

Make the sauce:
Melt the butter in a small to medium sauce pan over medium heat. Add the garlic and jalapeños and cook until they are softened but not yet beginning to brown, about 4 minutes. Add the flour and cook for 1 minute, stirring constantly. Still stirring, slowly add the stock in a steady stream. Increase the heat to medium-high and bring the mixture to a boil. Then reduce the heat and simmer until the liquid has reduced and the sauce has become opaque, about 5 minutes. Let it cool slightly.  Transfer the thickened stock to a blender, add the sour cream, chiles, cumin, chili powder, salt, and cayenne, and puree until smooth.

Preheat oven to 350F.

To assemble:
Reserve about 1 cup of the shredded cheese to top the assembled enchiladas.

Coat the bottoms of a 9 x 13-inch baking dish with some of the sauce.  Fill each enchilada with about a 1/2 cup of the chicken/bean/zucchini mixture, along the center of each tortilla. Top the filling with a generous tablespoon of shredded cheese. Roll the sides of the tortillas over the filling and place them, seam side down, in the baking dishes.

Pour the remaining green chile sauce evenly over the enchiladas and sprinkle with the reserved cheese. Bake the enchiladas in the oven for 30 minutes, or until the sauce is bubbling and the cheese is beginning to brown. Garnish with more cilantro leaves and scallions and serve.