Easy Vegetarian Enchiladas

Tax season is almost over, which matters to Eduardo because Eduardo does our taxes himself every year with a pencil and a calculator and the intensity of a man defusing a bomb. I do not understand taxes. I understand food. These are different skill sets and they do not overlap, which is why Eduardo does the taxes and I do the cooking and between us we have survival covered.

Sofia came home from school with a permission slip for her class trip — a week in Washington, DC, in May, with her senior class. She needs two hundred dollars and a signed form. I signed the form immediately because Sofia has earned every trip, every opportunity, every stamp in her passport. The two hundred dollars I took from the grocery budget, which means I will be creative with meals this week, which means arroz con salchichas and habichuelas and the kind of low-budget Puerto Rican cooking that Mami raised seven children on and nobody ever went hungry.

When you grow up poor — and I grew up poor, mi amor, though I did not know it because Mami food made us feel rich — you learn that the best cooking happens when money is tight. The best dishes in Puerto Rican cuisine are poor dishes. Arroz con habichuelas. Sancocho. Mondongo. These are not fancy restaurant meals. These are survival meals, invented by women who had to feed many with little and who turned that limitation into art. I am those women. I come from those women. And when I take two hundred dollars from the grocery budget for my daughter class trip, I do not panic. I make habichuelas. I make arroz. I feed my family the way my grandmother fed hers — with nothing but sofrito and ingenuity and an absolute refusal to let anyone at my table go hungry.

Eduardo asked what was for dinner. I said, Habichuelas guisadas. He said, We just had those last week. I said, Eduardo, we have had habichuelas every week for twenty-eight years. He said, Good point. He ate two bowls. He did not ask about the grocery budget. He did not ask about the two hundred dollars. Eduardo knows that the kitchen is my department and my department has never failed and it will not fail now. The beans are on the stove. The rice is in the pot. The daughter is going to Washington. The mother is in the kitchen, making it all work. As always. As forever.

Habichuelas guisadas belong to my grandmother and to every week of my life — but on the nights I want to stretch those same humble beans into something that feels a little different, a little festive even, without spending a single dollar more, these enchiladas are where I land. Sofia is going to Washington, Eduardo did the taxes, and dinner still has to happen — so I roll up the beans in a tortilla, cover them in sauce and cheese, and call it abundance, because it is.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 4 (2 enchiladas each)

Ingredients

2 cans (15 oz each) black beans, drained and rinsed
8 corn tortillas (6-inch)
2 cups red enchilada sauce, divided
1 1/2 cups shredded Mexican blend cheese, divided
1 cup frozen corn, thawed
1 small yellow onion, diced
1 red bell pepper, diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 tsp cumin
1 tsp chili powder
1/2 tsp smoked paprika
1/2 tsp salt
1 tbsp olive oil
Fresh cilantro and sour cream, for serving (optional)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat your oven to 375°F. Lightly grease a 9x13-inch baking dish and spread 1/2 cup of the enchilada sauce across the bottom.
Cook the filling. Heat olive oil in a skillet over medium heat. Add onion and bell pepper and cook 4–5 minutes until softened. Add garlic, cumin, chili powder, smoked paprika, and salt; stir and cook 1 minute more.
Add beans and corn. Stir in the black beans and corn. Cook another 2 minutes until heated through and everything is well combined. Remove from heat.
Warm the tortillas. Wrap the corn tortillas in a damp paper towel and microwave 45–60 seconds to soften them so they roll without cracking.
Fill and roll. Spoon about 1/3 cup of the bean filling down the center of each tortilla. Sprinkle with a little cheese, then roll tightly and place seam-side down in the prepared baking dish.
Top and bake. Pour the remaining 1 1/2 cups enchilada sauce evenly over the rolled enchiladas. Sprinkle the remaining cheese over the top. Bake uncovered for 20–25 minutes, until the cheese is melted and bubbling at the edges.
Serve. Let rest 5 minutes before serving. Top with fresh cilantro and a dollop of sour cream if you like.

Nutrition (per serving)

Easy Vegetarian Enchiladas — When the Budget is Tight and the Table Still Has to Be Full