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!

We have some parties under our belts and some coming up ahead of us, so I thought it might be nice to write a bit about one of my favorite appetizers. Hello stuffed figs wrapped with prosciutto, nice to meet you.

I can't think about figs without thinking of my friend Marianne. They are a quintessential late summer treat here in Virginia, and I can clearly remember her joy, one long-ago summer when we were first becoming friends, and another friend of ours named Shelly mentioned that she had a fig tree with more fruit than she knew what to do with. My next image in that filmstrip of memories is of a sun-warmed paper bag full of figs, bursting with sweetness.

Figs are decadent. Figs are sexy. They are lush and have texture. They are bold and unabashed. You either love them or you hate them, there's really no middle ground when it comes to figs.

Their season is short, a brief August window, during which I gobble up as many as I can in as many forms as I can. However this year my grocery store has been providing me with imports from California well into the fall. Figs are often, often paired with a salty ham like prosciutto to counterbalance their intense sweetness. Split down the middle, they can easily be stuffed with a soft cheese (goat cheese with honey makes a lovely filling) before warming in the oven.

For these figs, I choose a cheddar laced with chocolate (!).* The tang of the cheddar held the barest hint of cocoa, and it paired well with the heady honey sweetness of the figs. Once filled, wrap each fig in the thinnest prosciutto you can find and bake in a 375º oven until warm and the ham has browned and caramelized. Serve immediately.

Of course they're perfect just on their own too.

baking history :: chicken enchilada {life}

figgy, not pudding {life}