baking history :: chocolate crinkle cookies {life}

I don't turn to baking, as some do, in times of distress. I'm not a baker, as some are (I'm looking at you, Mom!), by nature. But my boy likes a sweet after dinner, and it's hard to deny a 13-year old his food, be it savory or sweet. It seems better that his dessert choices be homemade rather than pre-packaged as much as possible (let's face it, I'm not superwoman). So I've been baking cookies. Last week, when we got home from the surgeon, but before we headed to Raleigh for the MRI, I had a misty, drizzly, gray few hours before I had to grab Callum from school. I was heartsore and worried. I found it hard to settle. I'd meant to make chocolate crinkle cookies over Christmas but somehow had never gotten around to it (Thank God my mom was here to ensure we were fully stocked without my help!), and I still had all the ingredients. Did I have time (and energy) to make some cookies?

I almost didn't do it. As I said, baking doesn't necessarily consititute comfort to me. Making soup? Sure. Pulling together dinner? That'll soothe me. But baking? I often feel like I've stumbled into Neel's lab, forgetting key ingredients only to have to grab them once my hands are coated in flour. But my hands and my mind needed occupying, and Callum needed cookies. So there you are. Cookie time.

I went digging for the recipes I'd found in December. My friend Alice introduced us to Chocolate Crinkle Cookies years ago, and we love them. Crisp on the outside and chewey on the inside, they're subtle and flavorful. Satisfying. The recipe she shared with us is long gone, but the internet prevails! Sadly, most of the recipes I found called for the dough to chill for several hours, and that was time I didn't have. The one I landed on (finally!) was this, from Williams Sonoma. I don't know. (Shrugs.) Given my reluctance about baking, it seems fitting that this recipe is designed for kids and that the first line of instruction is, "Be sure an adult is nearby to help."

I don't know if you remember, but way back in October, I memory-laned a bit about my family cookie jar. It's hard to replace something so beloved, but I was determined to try. I wanted a cookie jar that evoked the feel of my beloved childhood favorite, not some ridiculous dancing fat man with a kerchief around his neck. I'd had my eye on an owl jar from West Elm but had yet to pull the trigger. I'm so glad I didn't, because will you look at what my mom brought up at Christmas time?

Savory or sweet, it's a little goal of mine to always keep something in this jar.

baking history :: chicken enchilada {life}

Callum had an incident at school yesterday (Don't worry; he's fine! He did good!) which necessitated a trip to the office for me. I'm so glad I got to be there and chat with the director of the middle school. He's a wonderful man who gives off a bit of an absent-professor air. When you start talking to him though, you know immediately that he's tack-sharp and that he just gets kids. If I were a kid in his middle school, I'd so appreciate how unflappable and calm he is. As a parent, I know I do! After we discussed what we needed to discuss, our conversation turned, just briefly, to the events of last Friday. "I'm so glad they are here," he said. "They need to be here. In school. Taking exams, seeing their friends. Doing what they are supposed to be doing."

He's right. The interwebs were pretty special yesterday, I thought. A really nice mix of reflection and light. Just what I needed. I hope it was what you needed too. And while I'm not completely ready to get back to normal (I find myself too desperate for change to be ready for that.), I'm ready for some normalcy around here. And when you're around here, what's more normal than food?

I can remember a conversation I had many, many years ago with one of my oldest friends. We were in college and she had told me about some fantastical meal a friend of hers had for dinner growing up (I wish I could remember what it was!). I remember being stunned at said meal, totally impressed until she pointed out, "I think it's just the kind of meal they regularly. You know, the way we have tuna noodle casserole (which Neel, by the way, calls "Tuna Pea Wiggle.") every week or so." Ah.

I think of that conversation every so often in the course of making meals for our family. What will Callum call the meals that pop in and out of our weekly rotation? Will they move forward a generation? Will they make it, as some of mine and some of Neel's have, into his own family's lexicon? I hadn't made these chicken enchiladas in awhile, so I was particularly happy when our boy said, "Oh good! I like those."

We do like them. Chicken is almost always my choice over beef, and the tomatillos make for a lighter sauce, one that's filled with spirit and tang. The recipe makes a gazillion enchiladas (like 8 big ones, maybe?), so it's great for us to have leftovers for the week. My friend Catherine first gave us the recipe, but now I've made it so many times that I kind of go by feel. I'll try to suss it out for you here and make up some measurements.

1-2 lbs. fresh tomatillos

1 onion, chopped

1 can diced green chilies

1/3 cup cilantro

1 teaspoon cumin

1.5 teaspoons sugar

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 cup chicken broth

1/2 cup whipping cream

3 cups cooked, shredded chicken (I use one pack of organic chicken breasts.)

6-8 large flour tortillas

vegetable oil

1.5 cups grated cheddar cheese

1.5 cups grated Monterey Jack cheese

Husk the tomatillos and halve them. Broil for 7-9 minutes until soft and brown. Set aside and reduce heat in the oven to 375º. Saute´ half of onion in 1 tablespoon of oil until translucent.

Transfer tomatillos and onion to a food processor or blender, add chilies, cilantro, cumin, sugar, and salt and blend until smooth. Return sauce to skillet and add broth and cream. Heat until thick.

In a large bowl, combine chicken with half of onion, and half of each kind of cheese. Add 1/2 cup of sauce to chicken and combine.

I warm tortillas by wrapping them in a towel and popping them in the microwave for a few seconds (maybe 45-50?). You may have another method, so go for it! Spread 1/4 of sauce on the bottom of a 9X13 casserole pan. Put roughly 1/4 of the chicken mix into the center of the tortilla, and roll it up, placing the rolled tortilla seamed side down in the casserole dish. Repeat with the remaining tortillas. Cover enchiladas with remaining sauce and cheese and bake until warm and bubbly, about 20-30 minutes.

Enjoy.

Annie made my figs from last week for Sam over the weekend, and that very fact filled me with delight! if you ever make one of my recipes, please! I want to know!