“Enchiladas”



I hate to admit it, but I am on a diet. Somewhere between the gnocchi, the dumplings and (oh god) the tortelloni, I have come to the sickening and saddening realization that something must change, other than my expanding waistline. I am jumping on the low-carb bandwagon.

My main hatred of dieting stems from my love of cooking and eating real food. Diets don’t care about real food – they advocate “quotation mark” food: “spaghetti” and meatballs, macaroni and “cheese.” What exactly are we dealing with here? No really, tell me, because I’d much rather sit down to a plate of cauliflower puree than ‘mashed “potato” surprise.’ I find this practice totally exasperating – and that’s just quotation mark issue, we haven’t addressed the non-fat fats and the non-sugar sweeteners. Those are just gross.

Sigh. But sometimes you have to swallow your pride, if for nothing else than to fit into your favorite jeans, and it is for that reason that I made chicken “enchiladas” for dinner last night.

Let me explain. A couple of weeks ago, Cristina and I decided to make dinner together, and she suggested a recipe for chicken enchiladas that she had made before to great success. We boiled and shredded some chicken breast, tossed it with cilantro, green onions, cayenne, cumin, oregano, salt and pepper, and mixed it up with grated cheese, cream cheese, sour cream and salsa. Then we rolled this filling in some flour tortillas, doused them with some more salsa, sprinkled some cheese on top, and baked them till they were melted and bubbly.

Oh. My. Lord. They were amazing! We must give credit to Sara Moulton– the recipe is hers. I have been craving them ever since, couldn’t wait to make them again (especially so that I’d have leftovers to bring to work), and made sure to get all the ingredients for them last time I went grocery shopping. Then I went on the diet.

The theory behind such diets as Atkins, South Beach and the Zone is that limiting certain carbohydrates regulates one’s insulin levels and results in the body’s increased ability to burn stored fat. High-glycemic carbohydrates like sugar and processed grains are absorbed very quickly into the blood stream and burn out fast, leaving you feeling hungry. Proteins, fats, most vegetables and whole grains are slow-burning, keeping you sustained for a longer period of time. Some of the low-carb diets call for an initial system re-boot, in which the first two weeks require a total withdrawal from starchy carb-sources. So for me, it’s two weeks of no sugar, wheat, potato, rice, or fruit – and no tortillas.

This diet is actually very suited to my habits, despite what you might surmise from my previous articles. The only problem is my overwhelming obsession these days with those damn enchiladas. The thought of them won’t leave me alone. Cristina even served them again on Super Bowl Sunday, and they were even better the second time, but one small taste made me crave them even more. (I can’t help but think of my college roommate Pheobe, who was queen of random food benders. She was one of the most glowingly healthy and athletic people I have ever known, so you’d never believe by looking at her that she could subsist entirely on vanilla ice cream coke floats for weeks at a time. At one point she was fixated on O’s cereal. For a good long time, it was Guiltless Gourmet chips and hummus. Good ol’ Pheobs, at last I understand – your coke float is my enchilada!)

Diet notwithstanding, I Would Have those damn enchiladas again. Just so long as I could stay true to my plan – it was only day 4 after all. It didn’t take too much finagling. The good thing about low-carb diets is that they allow broad flexibility with proteins and fats, so my diet “enchiladas” still contained (get this): jack cheese, cream cheese and sour cream. Just no tortillas. What I made, in real-food terms, was an enchilada-filling-bake. And it bombed.

I don’t know why a simple layer of bland flour tortilla would have such a significant effect on the taste of all those spices and flavorful ingredients, but without them, it was an ooey gooey mess of creamy chicken stuff. It looked like slops. It tasted fine, but was only a distant approximation of what I had yearned for. The worst thing about it was that this quotation-mark-imposter totally obliterated my precious memory of the original.

I suppose that in some ways, my failure was a good thing – it solved my craving problem, for one, and tortillas or no, these clearly are not the healthiest things one could eat. But it also sparked my curiosity to rediscover the real McCoy, and I think we all know that 9 days from now, I will be savoring the whole enchilada, no quotation marks necessary.

Posted: Fri - February 6, 2004 at 02:47 PM      


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