Best Vegetarian Mexican Recipes -- Rosa’s Red Chile Enchiladas, Made With Love and a Little Prayer

The end of the school year is coming, and with it the particular madness that descends on every household with school-age children — the field trips, the projects, the teacher appreciation gifts, the forms that need signing, the performances that need attending. I have five children in four different schools and the logistics of keeping them all where they need to be would challenge a general. Luis drives the morning route — Luis Jr. and Isabella to Bel Air, Sofia to middle school, Diego to elementary — and Carmen picks up Camila from pre-K when I can't leave the bakery, and between us we cover it, the way women in my family have always covered each other, handing children back and forth like a relay race where the baton is a four-year-old in a pink backpack.

Diego had a school concert this week. He plays the recorder, badly, with the enthusiasm of someone who has not yet been told that enthusiasm does not compensate for pitch. The concert was in the gymnasium and it sounded like twenty-five eight-year-olds having a polite argument with their instruments, and I sat in the folding chair and clapped like he was performing at Carnegie Hall because that is what mothers do. We clap. We clap at recorders and science fairs and soccer games and terrible school plays and we mean it every time because the thing we are clapping for is not the performance — it is the child.

At the bakery, I hired a part-time helper for the counter — a high school girl named Maricela who is sixteen and shy and counts change slowly but smiles at every customer, and a smile at 6 AM is worth more than speed. She reminds me of Isabella — quiet, careful, the kind of girl who is paying attention to everything and saying almost nothing. I am paying her nine dollars an hour, which is what I can afford, and she seems happy, and having another body in the bakery means I can spend more time in the kitchen and less time at the register, which is where I belong, because I am a baker, not a cashier, and the dough needs me more than the cash register does.

Rosa has not called in six days. This is unusual. Carmen says she spoke to Beatriz in Juárez and Beatriz says Rosa is resting. \"Resting\" is the family word for something worse. I am trying not to panic. Panic is a luxury, like anger, like sleep. I cannot afford it. So instead I bake. I bake and bake and bake, and the bread comes out of the oven warm and perfect and alive, and I think: as long as I am making Rosa's bread, Rosa is alive in the bread, and that has to be enough for now.

I made enchiladas this week — Rosa's enchiladas, with the red chile sauce that takes two hours and the queso fresco that I buy from the Mexican grocery on Paisano Drive. The enchiladas are Luis's favorite. He had three plates. Camila had one, mostly because she likes the cheese and peels it off the top and leaves the rest, which is a waste but also adorable, and I have decided that adorable children are allowed to waste enchiladas. It is in the constitution. I checked.

Sofia told me she wants to work at the bakery this summer, full days, not just Saturdays. She is eleven. Child labor laws say no. My heart says yes. We compromised: she can come in the mornings, before the heat, and help prep ingredients. She will not touch the ovens. She will wash her hands constantly. She will wear the hairnet even though she hates the hairnet. These are my terms. She agreed immediately, which means she would have agreed to anything, which means the bakery has her the way it has me — not as a job but as a calling.

I pray for Rosa every night. I kneel by the bed the way she taught me, hands folded, eyes closed, and I say the prayers she said, in the Spanish she spoke, and I ask God to let her live and I ask Javier to watch over her from wherever he is, and I get into bed and lie next to Luis and listen to him breathe and I think: please. Just please.

Rosa’s enchiladas are not a weeknight shortcut — they are an act of faith. I made them this week because I needed to feel her in my kitchen, because when I cannot reach her by phone I can reach her through the red chile sauce she taught me, the one that takes two hours and fills the whole house with something that smells like home. Luis had three plates. That is the only review that matters. If you have never made enchiladas from a real chile sauce, this is the week to start — your family will sit down, go quiet, and eat, and that silence is the best thing a cook can hear.

Best Vegetarian Mexican Recipes: Red Chile Enchiladas with Queso Fresco

Prep Time: 30 minutes | Cook Time: 1 hour 45 minutes | Total Time: 2 hours 15 minutes | Servings: 6 (12 enchiladas)

Ingredients

• For the Red Chile Sauce:
• 6 dried guajillo chiles, stems and seeds removed
• 3 dried ancho chiles, stems and seeds removed
• 4 cups water or vegetable broth, divided
• 4 garlic cloves, unpeeled
• 1/2 medium white onion, roughly chopped
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 1/2 teaspoon dried Mexican oregano
• 1/2 teaspoon salt, plus more to taste
• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• For the Filling:
• 2 cups crumbled queso fresco, divided
• 1 1/2 cups shredded Oaxaca or Monterey Jack cheese, divided
• 1 small white onion, finely diced
• 2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped
• For Assembly:
• 12 corn tortillas (6-inch)
• 2 tablespoons vegetable oil, for softening tortillas
• 1/2 cup sour cream, for serving
• Sliced avocado and fresh cilantro, for garnish

Instructions

1. Toast the chiles. Heat a dry skillet or comal over medium heat. Toast the guajillo and ancho chiles for 20—30 seconds per side, pressing lightly with a spatula, until fragrant. Do not let them burn or the sauce will be bitter.
2. Rehydrate the chiles. Place toasted chiles in a medium saucepan with 3 cups of the water or broth. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer uncovered for 20 minutes until chiles are completely soft and pliable. Reserve the soaking liquid.
3. Char the aromatics. In the same dry skillet, char the unpeeled garlic cloves and chopped onion over medium-high heat, turning occasionally, until softened and lightly blackened in spots, about 8—10 minutes. Peel the garlic once cool enough to handle.
4. Blend the sauce. Transfer softened chiles to a blender along with the charred garlic, charred onion, cumin, oregano, salt, and 1 1/2 cups of the reserved soaking liquid. Blend on high until completely smooth, at least 2 minutes. Add more soaking liquid if needed to reach a pourable consistency. Strain through a fine mesh sieve, pressing solids, and discard pulp.
5. Fry and season the sauce. Heat 1 tablespoon vegetable oil in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Carefully pour in the strained chile sauce — it will spatter. Stir and fry the sauce for 3—4 minutes, stirring constantly, until it darkens slightly and thickens. Add the remaining 1/2 cup broth, reduce heat to low, and simmer uncovered for 30 minutes, stirring occasionally, until the sauce coats a spoon. Adjust salt. This is the sauce that takes two hours, and it is worth every minute.
6. Preheat the oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Spread 1/2 cup of the red chile sauce in an even layer across the bottom of a 9x13-inch baking dish.
7. Mix the filling. In a medium bowl, combine 1 1/2 cups of the queso fresco, 1 cup of the Oaxaca cheese, the diced onion, and the cilantro. Stir to combine.
8. Soften the tortillas. Heat 2 tablespoons vegetable oil in the skillet over medium heat. Pass each corn tortilla through the hot oil for 5—10 seconds per side, just until pliable and no longer stiff. Stack them on a plate covered with paper towels as you go.
9. Dip and fill. One at a time, dip each softened tortilla into the warm red chile sauce, turning to coat both sides. Lay flat, place about 3 tablespoons of the cheese filling down the center, and roll tightly. Place seam-side down in the prepared baking dish. Repeat with all 12 tortillas, packing them snugly side by side.
10. Top and bake. Pour the remaining chile sauce evenly over the assembled enchiladas, covering them completely. Scatter the remaining 1/2 cup queso fresco and the remaining 1/2 cup Oaxaca cheese over the top. Cover tightly with foil and bake for 20 minutes. Uncover and bake 10 minutes more, until the cheese is melted and the sauce is bubbling at the edges.
11. Rest and serve. Let the enchiladas rest for 5 minutes before serving. Finish with dollops of sour cream, sliced avocado, and fresh cilantro. Serve immediately — and expect someone to ask for a third plate.

Nutrition (per serving, 2 enchiladas)

Calories: 420 | Protein: 18g | Fat: 22g | Carbs: 40g | Fiber: 6g | Sodium: 680mg