Jack O’ Lantern Empanadas

Marcus turns forty-two on Sunday, June 8th. Forty-two. The age where the body and the achievements and the family and the fire have all reached a point of fullness that is both beautiful and heavy. I am forty-two and I own a restaurant and a second one is under construction and my daughter won a state cooking championship and my son makes films and my wife runs everything and my father sits at a counter on Saturdays and my knee needs a replacement and my mother is seventy and still making guacamole and the fire — the fire that started in 1982 — burns in a building in Mesa and will burn soon in a building in Chandler and burns every day in a backyard in Scottsdale and burns always, eternally, in a cinder block grill in Maryvale. Forty-two years of fire. The fire is fuller than ever. The man is fuller than ever. The knee protests. The heart persists.

Roberto cooked the birthday carne asada. Three minutes. Three minutes at the charcoal grill, turning the meat, before he sat. Three minutes. The number is three. I watched the three minutes with the attention of a man watching the last three minutes of something precious, because three minutes of Roberto at the grill is three minutes of the original fire and the original fire is irreplaceable and the three minutes are not promised and every flip is a gift and every second is the fire burning in the hands that started it.

Diego gave fourteen sticks. Fourteen, in a configuration he called "a family." Fourteen sticks, arranged in clusters of different heights — two tall (Roberto and Elena), two medium (Marcus and Jessica), two shorter (Sofia and Diego), and one very short (Fuego). Seven clusters. One configuration. A family portrait in sticks. Roberto received the stick family and held it and looked at it for a long time and he said, "The dog is too tall." Diego said, "Fuego is tall." Roberto said, "Fuego is wide, not tall." The evaluation of stick proportions. The quality control of a nine-year-old's art. Roberto evaluates everything. The sticks are not exempt.

Sofia's gift: "The Fire, Year Four." The annual handmade book. This year's edition is thirty pages — the longest yet, with portraits that are recognizable and writing that is sophisticated and a final page that said: "The fire never goes out. Year five is next. The fire is still burning. Just show up." The book series is Sofia's contribution to the Rivera archive. Four books. Four years of the fire told by the granddaughter. The books will outlast all of us. The fire, the words, the girl. The legacy is in the books.

Roberto gave us three minutes at the grill and forty-two years of fire, and what do you do after a moment like that — after watching the man who started it all turn the meat one last time and sit down — except find your own way to fold something with your hands and put it over heat? These Jack O’ Lantern Empanadas aren’t carne asada, but they’re the same idea: dough wrapped around something you love, sealed at the edges, and given to the fire. Sofia writes the archive. Diego counts the sticks. I crimp the empanadas. The Rivera way is to make something with your hands and hand it to the people at the table.

Prep Time: 30 minutes | Cook Time: 22 minutes | Total Time: 52 minutes | Servings: 12 empanadas

Ingredients

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon salt
1/2 cup cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
1 egg, beaten (plus 1 egg for egg wash)
1/3 cup cold water, plus more as needed
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
3/4 lb ground beef (80/20)
1/2 medium yellow onion, finely diced
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 teaspoon cumin
1 teaspoon smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon chili powder
1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
1/4 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon salt, or to taste
2 tablespoons tomato paste
1/4 cup beef broth
1/2 cup shredded Monterey Jack cheese
1 tablespoon olive oil

Instructions

Make the dough. In a large bowl, whisk together flour and salt. Cut in cold butter using a pastry cutter or your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Add the beaten egg, cold water, and apple cider vinegar. Mix until the dough just comes together, adding water one teaspoon at a time if needed. Shape into a disk, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate for at least 20 minutes.
Cook the filling. Heat olive oil in a skillet over medium-high heat. Add onion and cook 3–4 minutes until softened. Add garlic and cook 30 seconds. Add ground beef, breaking it apart, and cook until browned, about 6 minutes. Drain excess fat. Stir in cumin, smoked paprika, chili powder, oregano, salt, pepper, tomato paste, and beef broth. Simmer 3–4 minutes until the liquid is absorbed. Remove from heat and let cool. Fold in shredded cheese.
Preheat and prep. Preheat oven to 400°F. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out to about 1/8-inch thickness.
Cut the rounds. Using a 4-inch round cutter (or the rim of a wide glass), cut 12 circles from the dough, re-rolling scraps as needed.
Carve the jack o’ lantern faces. On half of the dough rounds (the tops), use a small sharp knife or skewer to cut simple jack o’ lantern faces — triangle eyes, a small nose cutout, and a jagged mouth. These cutouts also allow steam to vent during baking.
Fill and seal. Place a plain round on your work surface. Spoon about 2 tablespoons of filling onto the center, leaving a 1/2-inch border. Brush the border with egg wash. Place a carved top round over the filling and press the edges firmly together. Crimp with a fork to seal.
Egg wash and bake. Transfer empanadas to the prepared baking sheet. Brush the tops with egg wash. Bake at 400°F for 20–22 minutes, until deep golden brown and the edges are crisp.
Cool slightly and serve. Let the empanadas rest for 5 minutes before serving. Serve with salsa, sour cream, or guacamole alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Jack O&rsquo; Lantern Empanadas — The Fire in Every Fold