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Chicken Enchiladas — The Sunday After the Second Sentencing

The formal sentencing hearing was Tuesday morning at nine AM in courtroom three at the Tulsa County Courthouse, the same courtroom as the preliminary hearing two weeks earlier. The same judge. Beverly the public defender at the front. Mama and I in the third row. Cody at the defendant’s table in the same charcoal suit he’d worn to Aunt Linda’s wedding. The misdemeanor plea was formally entered into the record. The judge read the sentence: twelve months of probation supervised by the Tulsa County probation office, eighty hours of community service to be completed within those twelve months, a five-hundred-dollar fine, no jail time, no further conditions. The fine was paid the same morning from the bond money returned to us at the end of the preliminary hearing — the bondsman’s ten-percent fee was eaten as expected, the remainder came back in a check made out to me as the original poster, and the fine came directly out of that check.

Cody’s probation officer is a man named Marcus — a different Marcus than Marcus Wells from the Tulsa-library writing program who is now teaching at OSU-Tulsa — who Cody had his first orientation meeting with Tuesday afternoon at three PM. The officer-Marcus is in his late forties, a former corrections officer who moved into probation work twelve years ago, and was, by Cody’s description, “reasonable, not friendly, but reasonable.” Monthly in-person check-ins for the first six months, then monthly phone check-ins for the second six months, drug testing on a random schedule, no out-of-state travel without prior approval, employment verification quarterly. Cody had signed all the paperwork.

The eighty hours of community service start Saturday at the Tulsa Community Food Bank doing kitchen-prep for the meal-distribution program that delivers daily meals to elderly and disabled residents in lockdown isolation. The probation officer had pre-approved the food bank as the community-service site. Cody had pre-arranged the schedule with the food-bank kitchen manager. He’ll do four hours each Saturday for twenty consecutive Saturdays. The food bank has been short-staffed all spring because of the pandemic. Cody’s eighty hours of court-ordered free labor will be welcomed.

Sunday I made chicken enchiladas because the household had asked for chicken enchiladas specifically across the week — Mama mentioned them at breakfast Tuesday, Cody mentioned them at dinner Wednesday, Aunt Linda asked about them on the phone Friday afternoon when she was checking in on the household. The dish was the household’s consensus comfort meal for the second post-sentencing Sunday, and consensus Sunday meals are the kind of meal that gets made when everybody at the table needs the same comfort.

The technique: poach a pound and a half of boneless skinless chicken thighs in seasoned water for twenty minutes (the same poach-and-shred I’ve been doing for chicken-based casseroles all year), shred with two forks, and toss with a small can of diced green chilies, a half-cup of sour cream, a teaspoon of cumin, a teaspoon of dried oregano, a half-teaspoon of garlic powder, a half-teaspoon of onion powder, salt, pepper, and a generous cup of grated Monterey jack cheese.

The red enchilada sauce, from scratch (canned is fine if you’re busy; from-scratch is one extra step that elevates the dish): in a small saucepan, two tablespoons of olive oil, three tablespoons of chili powder, two tablespoons of all-purpose flour, a teaspoon of cumin, a teaspoon of garlic powder, a half-teaspoon of dried oregano, salt and pepper. Whisk the spice-flour mixture in the oil for thirty seconds, then add three cups of low-sodium chicken broth slowly while whisking. Simmer for ten minutes until the sauce thickens to a coatable consistency. Stir in two tablespoons of tomato paste at the end for color and depth.

The assembly: warm twelve corn tortillas briefly in a dry skillet to make them pliable. Spoon a generous tablespoon of the chicken filling down the center of each tortilla, roll up tightly, and place seam-side-down in a buttered nine-by-thirteen baking dish. Pour the red enchilada sauce evenly over the rolled tortillas, ensuring every enchilada has sauce coverage. Top with a generous two cups of grated Monterey jack and sharp cheddar mixed.

Bake at three-fifty for twenty-five minutes until the cheese on top has bubbled and browned and the sauce around the edges is bubbling. Rest five minutes before serving. Topped at the table with sour cream, sliced scallions, fresh cilantro, sliced avocado, and lime wedges.

Mama ate three enchiladas. Cody ate four. I ate two. The dinner was louder than last Sunday’s — Cody told stories from his TCC class about a fellow student who’d once accidentally caramelized a sugar pot to the point of starting a small grease fire that the class still tells about. He talked about his cafe plans being delayed by twelve months but not derailed. He laughed for the first time since Wednesday-the-fifteenth-of-April when he’d been arrested. Mama heard him laugh from across the table and got tears in her eyes for the first time since the morning of the original phone call. The arc of the second arrest closed itself within four weeks because Cody has built a life that holds its shape under stress. He has built it. We helped. The kitchen helped. But he is the one who built it.

From-scratch red enchilada sauce. Warm tortillas first. Twenty-five minutes at three-fifty. Here’s the build.

Chicken Enchiladas

Prep Time: 20 min | Cook Time: 30 min | Total Time: 50 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

  • 2 cups cooked chicken, shredded
  • 1 can (10 oz) red enchilada sauce, divided
  • 1 can (4 oz) diced green chiles, drained
  • 1 cup sour cream
  • 1 1/2 cups shredded Mexican blend cheese, divided
  • 1/2 teaspoon garlic powder
  • 1/2 teaspoon cumin
  • 1/4 teaspoon salt
  • 8 flour tortillas (8-inch)
  • 1/4 cup sliced black olives (optional)
  • 2 green onions, sliced, for garnish

Instructions

  1. Preheat oven. Heat oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish and spread 1/4 cup of the enchilada sauce across the bottom.
  2. Make the filling. In a large bowl, combine shredded chicken, green chiles, sour cream, 3/4 cup of the cheese, garlic powder, cumin, and salt. Stir until evenly mixed.
  3. Fill the tortillas. Spoon about 1/3 cup of the chicken mixture down the center of each tortilla. Roll tightly and place seam-side down in the prepared baking dish.
  4. Top and bake. Pour the remaining enchilada sauce evenly over the rolled tortillas. Sprinkle with the remaining 3/4 cup cheese and black olives if using. Cover loosely with foil and bake for 20 minutes.
  5. Finish uncovered. Remove the foil and bake an additional 8–10 minutes, until the cheese is melted and bubbly and the edges are lightly golden.
  6. Garnish and serve. Let rest for 5 minutes before serving. Top with sliced green onions and serve warm with rice, beans, or a simple salad.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 410 | Protein: 28g | Fat: 18g | Carbs: 34g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 820mg

Kaylee Turner
About the cook who shared this
Kaylee Turner
Week 210 of Kaylee’s 30-year story · Tulsa, Oklahoma
Kaylee is twenty-five, married with three kids under six, and the youngest mom on the RecipeSpinoff team. She got her GED at twenty, married at nineteen, and feeds her family on whatever she can find at Dollar General and the Tulsa grocery outlet. She survived a tornado that took the roof off her apartment and discovered that you can make surprisingly good dinners with canned goods and determination. Don't underestimate her. She doesn't underestimate herself.

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