When I was a kid growing up in West Texas back in the 60s and 70s chain restaurants were about as common as finding prairie bound sasquatches cooking S’mores over a campfire.
We therefore ate our burgers at our neighbor’s Dairy Queen, fried chicken (with Texas Toast and cream gravy) at a family owned place out on South Washington and plowed through Saturday morning donuts scratch made at our local donut shop. There were two pretty damned good local BBQ joints (both now long gone) and a few decent Tex Mex dive eateries nearby.
It wasn’t until my sophomore summer in high school that a college-student warehouse foreman took me and another freight wrangler to a little Mexican food place about 10 miles south of town for lunch. It was tiny, with about 8 formica topped tables surrounded by aluminum chairs replete with cracked vinyl cushions.
They served numbingly cold iced tea and the biggest platter of classic Tex Mex enchiladas I’d ever (and in fact have ever) seen. You could have them with cheese, chicken or beef filling and of course with either red or green enchilada sauce, though my standard order from that day forward was ‘one beef and two cheese (with onion) – red’.
About the time we were fighting over the last crumbs in the second paper-lined plastic chip basket she’d bring out platters seemingly the size of cafeteria serving trays, piled high with mexican rice on one end, steaming (real) refried beans on the other and the most aromatic, melty-cheese gooey sea of enchilada goodness you’ve ever imagined in between, with a handful of rough chopped tomatoes and ice-cold iceberg lettuce slivers piled high on one end of the enchiladas.
All for less than five bucks including drink and tip.
My friends and I spent many an afternoon and evening there, even gambling on taking a date now and again, all the way through college. The place eventually moved to new digs in town, upped their prices, dropped their quality and not unexpectedly died.
We’ve fiddled for years to try to recreate their red enchilada sauce – it had genuine bits of red chile in it, tiny pieces of beef and a rich, beefy flavor with a hint of cinnamon and something that I’ve always thought was allspice, but it’s actually just a smidgen of cloves.
(Purists would insist on calling the sauce chile con carne, be as pedantic as you wish but we just call it damned good.)
I’d almost given up until trying this combination in late March again and finding myself whisked back to West Texas, sitting at that creaky table and eating what just might be the best damned enchiladas on the planet.
10-12 dried NM chile peppers, stemmed and seeded
2-4 dried guajillo chile peppers, stemmed and seeded
4 cups water
1 medium onion, chopped medium
4 cloves garlic, chopped fine
1 tbsp. oil
1 tsp. ground cumin
1 tsp. dried Mexican oregano
1/2 tsp. ground cinnamon
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
1-2 tbsp. brown sugar
Scant 1/2 lb. ground beef
3 cups beef broth
Salt and pepper to taste1-2 tbsp. oil
12 large corn tortillas
4-5 cups grated Monterrey Jack cheese
1 medium sweet onion, chopped smallLettuce, tomato, avocado just because
Make the red chile magic (puree). Put a kettle on to boil; using a dry skillet heated over medium-high heat, toast the chiles on each side until they puff slightly and become fragrant. Place the chiles in a small bowl and cover with 4 cups boiling water; let steep for 30 minutes or so until soft. Drain and reserve 2 cups of the soaking liquid; place the softened chiles in the blender.
Sauté then sauce. Wipe the skillet clean and heat the oil; sauté the onions (the first onion) for 5-6 minutes until soft. Add the garlic and stir for another 30-40 seconds.
Dump the onion and garlic mixture on top of the chiles in the blender; now add the cumin, oregano, cinnamon, cloves and two cups of the soaking liquid. Blend until nice and smooth; add more liquid if needed to get to a medium-thick milkshake consistency.
In the same skillet, now brown the ground beef, breaking it up as you go into small pieces (pea sized or so); drain the grease. Now add the chile puree, beef broth and brown sugar. Stir to mix well, crank the heat and bring it to a boil, then turn it to a simmer and let it bubble for 30-40 minutes. Finally, taste for salt and pepper and adjust as needed. You’re looking for the sauce to cook down and thicken a bit here.
Roll your own. Preheat the oven to 350 and grease a 13×9 or better baking dish. Heat the remaining oil in a small skillet over medium heat and warm up a tortilla in the hot oil (10-20 seconds until beginning to blister).
Now dip the heated tortilla into the sauce, shake off the excess, lay flat on your cutting board and sprinkle 1/3 to 1/2 cup of the grated cheese down the middle and top with 1-2 tsp. of the chopped sweet onion. Roll the filled tortilla and place it seam side down in the baking dish.
Repeat until the baking dish is full; now top with the sauce and the remaining grated cheese and onions. Bake for 15-20 minutes until the cheese has melted and is bubbling.
Serve. Dish ‘em hot with mexican rice, refries and a cold one. You’ll swear you were right back in West Texas with me.
Enjoy.
