Cheddar and Chorizo Strata

I stood at the kitchen window this morning and watched the light come up over Mount Timpanogos and thought, again, that I have lived inside this view my whole life and never once gotten tired of it. The week was a winter week, the kind where the light through the kitchen window arrives at a particular angle and the freezer hums in a different register depending on the temperature in the garage. I made notes in my prep notebook on Sunday afternoon, the way I always do: meal name, ingredient list, cost per serving, prep time, freezer instructions. Twenty-eight bags. Two hours and eleven minutes. A little slow this week, by my standards, but Brandon was helping and the conversation was good, and I have learned, slowly and against my own grain, that the conversation is sometimes the point and the time is sometimes a courtesy I extend to my husband for being willing to chop onions on a Sunday afternoon.

Brandon golfed Saturday morning, attended his executive secretary meeting Sunday morning, and did the dishes Wednesday night, which is the rhythm of our life now. We have been married a long time. The arithmetic of it is the arithmetic of my whole life. There were years we missed each other in the same room, and there are years we find each other in the silences, and this is one of the latter, and I am old enough now to know that the latter is the achievement and the former was the cost.

The recipe of the week was meatball variety, which I have made some specific number of times in my life and have refined to a system that I now hand to other people in printed form. The version I made this week fed eight, cost under fifteen dollars, and required twenty-six minutes of active prep, which is within my requirements and not a coincidence. Sunday prep is twenty-eight bags. I time myself. The accountant never leaves. I have stopped explaining the freezer-meal philosophy to people who already follow my work, and I have stopped apologizing for it to people who do not. The philosophy is simple: tomorrow is coming whether you are ready or not. You can either be ready or not. I pick ready.

The children are doing what they do, which is the central report of every week of my adult life. Ethan is 20, in Manila on his mission, and his last email mentioned a chicken adobo so good he is going to make me make it when he comes home. Olivia is 18, at BYU studying elementary education — the path she chose at age seven and has not deviated from once. Mason is 16, finishing high school, with calluses on his hands and a plan that does not yet have words. Lily is 14, in high school, asking the kind of questions in Sunday School that make the teachers uncomfortable, which I find difficult and also, secretly, admirable. Noah is 11, the comedian, the performer — the kid who does an impression of my disappointed face in front of company, and gets away with it. That is the family report. I do not have a system for these reports. I just listen and remember and call back when I said I would call back, which is most of the time and not all of the time, and the difference between most and all is the territory of motherhood.

I will close the laptop in a moment. I will go to bed. I will get up tomorrow. The freezer will be there. The photograph will be there. The work will be there. So will I.

The meatball bags were already labeled and stacked when I started thinking about what to share this week, and I kept coming back to the strata — because it is, in its bones, the same philosophy: one afternoon of work, many evenings of not having to think. The Cheddar and Chorizo Strata is the kind of recipe I hand to people when they ask me where to start with freezer cooking, because it is forgiving, it freezes beautifully, and it tastes like someone put real effort into dinner even when the effort happened four Sundays ago. Brandon will eat two squares without being asked, which is its own endorsement.

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 45 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

1 lb Mexican chorizo, casings removed
1 medium yellow onion, diced
1 red bell pepper, diced
8 cups day-old French bread, cut into 1-inch cubes
2 cups shredded sharp cheddar cheese, divided
8 large eggs
2 1/2 cups whole milk
1 tsp dry mustard
1/2 tsp garlic powder
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
2 tbsp chopped fresh parsley (optional, for serving)

Instructions

Cook the chorizo. In a large skillet over medium heat, cook chorizo, breaking it apart, until browned and cooked through, about 7–8 minutes. Add diced onion and bell pepper and cook until softened, about 4 minutes more. Drain excess fat and set aside to cool slightly.
Layer the bread and filling. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish. Spread half the bread cubes in an even layer. Top with the chorizo mixture, then sprinkle with 1 cup of the cheddar. Add the remaining bread cubes on top.
Mix the custard. In a large bowl, whisk together the eggs, milk, dry mustard, garlic powder, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper until fully combined.
Assemble and rest. Pour the egg custard evenly over the bread layers, pressing down gently so the bread absorbs the liquid. Sprinkle the remaining 1 cup of cheddar over the top. Cover tightly with plastic wrap and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes, or overnight for best results.
Bake. Preheat oven to 350°F. Remove plastic wrap and bake uncovered for 40–45 minutes, until the top is golden and the center is set (a knife inserted in the center should come out clean). Let rest 10 minutes before cutting.
Freeze (optional). To freeze, allow the baked strata to cool completely. Cut into individual portions, wrap each tightly in plastic wrap, then foil. Freeze for up to 3 months. Reheat from frozen at 325°F for 25–30 minutes, or microwave individual portions for 2–3 minutes.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cheddar and Chorizo Strata — The Recipe That Earns Its Place in the Freezer