Jalapeño & Cotija Cheese Potato Stack Pie

The second book is at 50,000 words. Halfway. Twelve interviews completed, eight to go. The chapters are forming into something — not just a collection of stories, but a ARGUMENT. The argument: food labor is essential labor. The women who cook are essential workers. The kitchen is essential infrastructure. And the world needs to see it, honor it, and support it. Sarah read the Detroit chapter and called: 'This is the chapter that gets you on NPR. This is the chapter that makes the book matter beyond food writing. This is a social justice chapter dressed in a recipe.' Social justice dressed in a recipe. The most Rachel Abernathy description of anything, ever. At home: ordinary life. Caleb is four and five months and has become a READER. Not fluent — but he reads words everywhere. On cereal boxes ('CHEERIOS!'), on road signs ('STOP!'), on my cookbook shelf ('COOK! COOK! MORE COOK!'). He lives in a world of words now, and most of the words he knows are food words. Hazel is fourteen months old and talks in fragments: 'Mo food.' 'Mama cook.' 'No no no.' (The last one is her response to everything, including things she wants. She says 'no' and then does it anyway. She's the most contrary and the most decisive person I know.) The PCS prep has begun for real — researching San Diego neighborhoods, school districts for Caleb (kindergarten in September!), pediatricians, and commissaries. The base housing at Miramar is reportedly better than Pendleton — bigger kitchens. BIGGER KITCHENS. The rumor alone is worth the move. Made Elena's green chile enchiladas tonight. The desert recipe, eaten at the coast. The napkin recipe that became a signature. I think about Elena every time I make them — her kitchen in Twentynine Palms, her mother's chiles, her grandmother's food in a place she'd never go. Every recipe is a person. Every person is a kitchen. Every kitchen is a story. The book holds twelve stories now. It'll hold twenty. Twenty kitchens. Twenty Donnas. For all of them.

I didn’t make Elena’s enchiladas tonight without thinking about her — her kitchen in Twentynine Palms, her mother’s dried chiles hanging by the window, the way she wrote the recipe on a paper napkin like it was nothing, like it wasn’t everything. The jalapeño and cotija in this potato stack pie hit the same register: heat you can trust, cheese that’s sharp and a little salty, layers that hold together when you cut into them. It’s a different dish, but it lives in the same neighborhood — the one where someone’s grandmother’s food travels somewhere it was never supposed to go and somehow becomes home anyway.

Prep Time: 20 minutes | Cook Time: 50 minutes | Total Time: 1 hour 10 minutes | Servings: 6

Ingredients

2 lbs russet potatoes (about 4 medium), scrubbed and very thinly sliced (1/8 inch)
3 jalapeños, thinly sliced into rounds (seeds removed for milder heat)
1 cup cotija cheese, crumbled and divided
3/4 cup sour cream
1/4 cup heavy cream
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tablespoons olive oil, plus more for the pan
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
2 tablespoons fresh cilantro, chopped (for garnish)

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Preheat oven to 400°F. Lightly brush a 9-inch springform pan or deep pie dish with olive oil. Line the bottom with a round of parchment paper and brush again.
Make the cream mixture. In a small bowl, whisk together the sour cream, heavy cream, minced garlic, smoked paprika, salt, and pepper until smooth. Set aside.
Layer the base. Arrange a single overlapping layer of potato slices across the bottom of the pan, pressing them down slightly. Spoon 2–3 tablespoons of the cream mixture over the potatoes and spread evenly. Scatter a layer of jalapeño rounds and 3 tablespoons of crumbled cotija over the top.
Build the layers. Repeat the layering process — potatoes, cream mixture, jalapeños, cotija — until all potatoes are used, pressing down gently with each layer to compact the stack. Finish with a final layer of potato, the remaining cream mixture spread on top, and the remaining cotija scattered evenly over the surface.
Bake covered. Cover the pan tightly with foil and bake for 35 minutes, until the potatoes are nearly tender when pierced with a knife.
Bake uncovered. Remove the foil and bake for an additional 15 minutes, until the top is golden and the edges are bubbling. If desired, broil on high for 2–3 minutes for a deeper golden crust — watch closely.
Rest and serve. Let the stack pie rest for 10 minutes before releasing the springform or slicing. Garnish with fresh cilantro and serve warm, cut into wedges.

Nutrition (per serving)

Jalapeño & Cotija Cheese Potato Stack Pie — Elena’s Kitchen, Every Time I Make It