So nothing spectacular for this post: just the process of Gringa-ladas, the enchilada recipe I've been developing over the last year and half or so. I've got another post to write that actually focuses on small cooking and what I've had to do to change my kitchen habits, but that's not as much fun right now. Next time.
Sauce makes a dish, of that we are all certain. This dish has stretched out into nearly five hours from start to finish, but is starting to be worth it (ask The Pole, Miss Thang, or Mr. Bacon). This time I made the sauce the night before (smart girl) so that my guests wouldn't be forced to chew their hands in hunger-induced desperation.
Step one: Buy a whole chicken and about 3 bone-in chicken thighs, preferably from Mayflower Poultry, though a Kosher or organic one from Whole Paycheck will do. Hack chicken into 8 pieces, and remove skin from all parts, including the thighs. Trim visible fat. Feed cat scraps of raw chicken.
Dry chicken parts and proceed to rub in salt, white pepper, and ground cumin (preferably from Morocco or Israel, I've had only these varieties in the last year—SO spoiled). Now, you're going to let that chicken warm up on the counter. You'll want it to sit at room temperature for about a half hour to an hour. If anything I've learned, it's not to try and sear cold meat. Gross, you say, you'll get salmonella. I think not. That chicken is going to have the shit cooked out of it, I promise. You'll be fine. Plus, if you're avoiding nasty Perdue / Shaw's / Market Basket Antibiotic-Flavored chicken, your chance for the runs decreases considerably:
Meanwhile, prep aromatics: 2 diced yellow onions, half a bulb of garlic, minced, and in this case, reconstituted chipotle peppers, and cumin seed. Sometimes if I have fresh jalapeno I'll use that too. However, dried peppers are key.
Open Rogue Dead Guy Ale and clean up chicken-dissecting cutting board and knives. Line up the 4-7 spices you feel like using for sauce.
Open a can of 365 brand crushed tomatoes, and get some chix stock simmering on hotplate.
Step two: Bring about 4 TBL canola or corn oil to a purdy shimmering sheen and begin to sear chicken in batches in pot. Make sure that chicken is getting really dark. As pieces finish, put in warm oven in dish to catch juices, etc. This step will ensure that your studio apartment begins to smell like a very greasy taqueria. Olé!
When all chicken is seared, the bottom of your pan should resemble a wasteland of very dark chicken scraps and oil. This is OK, you vant dis, very very much:
Dump in the onions and cumin seed ONLY at this point. The steam and liquid of the fresh onion will soften the burned bits. Scrape up the bits with a flat-head wooden spoon, stirring the onions often; the cumin seeds will being to soften.
After a few minutes, add the chipotle pepper and the garlic and let go for a few more, stirring a few times. At this point, I add more chile powder(s) and cumin. I really can't tell you how much or what kind--though I do know that it's more than you'd think it is. Stir some more. Add the chicken and accumulated juices next, and stir well. 
After another minute or three, add tomatoes, stock, and a large pinch of sugar. What you've got now are 11 pieces of bone-in chicken in a cozy bath of spices, aromatic, tomatoes, and stock. Bring this to a boil, then cover and simmer, covered, for, oh... about two hours. Yup, two hours. Clean up kitchen and do some laundry.
Step 3: When you reach in to pick up a piece of chicken with tongs and it is literally falling off the bone, you've hit it. Remove the chicken to a large plate and keep sauce on simmer, covered. When you can handle the chicken without burning yourself and swearing, pull off the bone and shred using your fingers or two forks.
Toss the bones into a pie plate and throw them into a 425 oven. Yup, you're going to roast those fuckers. It wasn't good enough that they took a bath, they are going to make a little extra sauce for us. After they're dark, throw them in a pot with some water and bring to a boil for about a half hour. Strain this and add back to the sauce. Then, use immersion blender to puree sauce:
This will break down all the little chicken shreds into the sauce, a very good thing.
At this point, either cool sauce and refrigerate with chicken and pass out in Cumin-Scented bed, or proceed to
Step 4: A word about queso. I stopped using Monterey Jack or "Mexican" blends of cheese a while ago, as they're super greasy, salty, and all but hide the hard work I've done on the sauce. I now use a queso fresco and some other cheese, whatever happens to look good at Market Basket that day. This time I used:
Dice a WHITE onion very fine and open some corn tortillas. Some assembly required:
I used to fry the tortillas in hot oil and roll each enchilada. No more, amigo. I found that frying them just makes for an uber-greasy dish, and that everything falls apart when baked, so that the rolling is a waste of my time. Here I trade presentation for speed. Yeah, I know. That's why they are called GRINGladas. You're going to make a sort of pseudo-Mexican lasagna: spoon sauce into bottom of casserole, place on layer of tortillas, overlapping, then some chicken, onion, and cheese, and more sauce. Repeat until that casserole is full and happy. Top with cilantro and bake, uncovered, at 350 for about 45 minutes.
Serve with various fun things your guests can sprinkle on top: diced jalapeno, sliced scallions, lime wedges, chopped cilantro, and, most fun: authentic crema (you'll never use sour cream again. oh my. it's lovely. just ask R.).
So there you have it. Now back to bed for me.
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