January 22, 2015 by gn0mel0ver

Winning Creamy Chicken Enchiladas

On our third date, my husband made me dinner. It was our third date in three days. It was also the night we decided to get married. We make quick decisions.

I did not know the trouble he had had making these enchiladas before I got to his apartment.

He burned the chicken for the filling and had to run out. For some reason he substituted it with canned chicken. Gulp. He was also on a health kick and used all low-fat ingredients. Double gulp. Needless to say that dish is a bit different than the one we make today.

I say “we” but I really mean “I.”

Ingredients:

1 1/2 pounds of salsa chicken (recipe here. It will make double the amount of chicken you will need for this dish. You can halve it, double this recipe or save it for a different dish. I use the leftovers from tacos the night before)
15 oz. can green enchilada sauce
2 cans of cream of chicken soup
8 oz. softened cream cheese
10 white corn tortillas
2 cups shredded mexican cheese
1/3 cup vegetable oil

Optional toppings:

Salsa
Cilantro
Sour cream

Directions:

Make my salsa chicken in the crockpot. This will take 4-5 hours. Shred. Set aside. I used leftover chicken from the night before.

Pour vegetable oil in a small skillet. Heat over medium heat until hot. Fry tortillas one at a time for approximately 8 seconds each side. You do not want the tortillas hard, just soft and malleable. Don’t worry about any little holes in a tortilla. It will be covered with cheese and no one will ever know. Well, unless you post the pictures of it on the Internet. But who would be dumb enough to do that?

Lay two paper towels on a plate. Place the tortilla on the paper towel lined plate. Lay four-five tortillas on paper towels in a single layer. Repeat paper towel layers. Repeat tortillas until all fried. Allow tortillas to cool while moving on to the next step.

In a large skillet, mix together cream cheese, cream of chicken soups, and green enchilada sauce. Heat and stir ingredients in skillet over medium heat.

It will be lumpy at first. Keep stirring. I use a whisk.

And then, in a miraculous moment, it will all come together. Turn off heat.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Smear some of the enchilada sauce in a 9 X 13 pan.

Take a tortilla and rub some sauce down the middle.

Place a good handful of shredded chicken in the middle of tortilla. Roll up tortilla with sauce and chicken inside and place seam side down in pan.

Repeat with the rest of the tortillas. I fill the pan, even on the sides because I do not want to dirty more dishes.

Pour remaining sauce on top of filled tortillas. With a spatula, flatten it into place.

Cover with the scrumptious cheese.

Cover with foil and bake for twenty five minutes. After twenty five minutes, remove foil and bake for an additional ten minutes.

Remove from oven and serve!

Conclusion:

We used to make this enchilada dish every Christmas Eve. This was the first year we made it for Christmas instead.

You see, a few years ago my husband decided to switch up the recipe. He abandoned this one and made The Homesick Texan’s Chicken Enchiladas. And everybody loved them. And all was good. But I missed his old recipe. There was something divine in the simplicity of its creamy essence.

So, we had a battle of the chicken enchiladas on Christmas day. As one does.

My husband won.

Or so he thought.

He forgot one very important factor.

While he may cook ten days out of the year.

I cook on almost all of the days in-between.

That’s a lot of days.

I had not given up on the chicken enchilada recipe.

So, I made them the next week.

And the next.

I kind of could not get enough.

My family, on the other hand, finally caved. “Okay! You win!” My daughter finally shouted when she saw the enchiladas make an appearance for the fourth time.

My son did not have her tact. He dragged himself to the dinner table on his knees. “Not again,” he murmured from the floor as he shuffled morosely towards his chair. I did not take it too personally. He dislikes any sort of enchilada. The poor guy had reached his limit.

My daughter was not done. “Look, Mom, these were great the first time. Good the second time. Fine the third time. But, oh my gosh! I don’t know if I can eat any more of these! We have had them so often!”

But I was not done either. “All right. I might not make them again for awhile,” I heard my family give a sigh of relief. I relentlessly continued, “if you can answer me one simple question.”

They looked up at me with shadowed eyes of enchilada weariness. “Anything,” they would have said if they had not fallen into a creamy-cheese-induced-coma.

“Whose enchiladas are really the best?”

“Yours!” Came the pleading sobs from my family.

Just as I suspected.

Winning.

January 21, 2015 by gn0mel0ver

Lady In Red… Embroidery

I have mentioned before that maroon is not my favorite color. Well, I am not a huge fan of red either. I don’t not like it. I just don’t like it very well either. I think it is a very hard color to wear. I have a pair of red boots and it absolutely terrifies me to wear them. Red is very attention grabbing.

I don’t really like attention.

“I know.

The irony.

Or idiocy does not escape me,” says the public blogger.

When someone is paying attention to me, it makes it very difficult to eavesdrop on them.

It also makes it difficult to finish the interesting conversation one was having with oneself. Just when you are about to learn where the bodies are buried, the stranger’s eyes will meet your own and you will have to stop the secret whispering.

Please tell me I’m ~~not~~ alone.

I had forgotten all about this dress until I was lamenting to my husband as I was getting ready for our date, “I have nothing to wear.”

I was only half joking.

Everything I pulled out of the closet just seemed wrong.

I find it harder to dress for a date with my husband than anything else.

He is not fond of my loose-fitting frocks. Or my hippie skirts. I wanted him to think I looked pretty while still staying true to myself.

I found this dress (old and sold out, similar dress here) tucked in the back of the closet wedged somewhere between my Kantha dresses, gnome costumes and my dignity. I had wondered where that went. I hastily threw it on with my fringe booties and big rose earrings.

When I came out of the closet, my husband commented, “I like that dress.” And both me and myself were pleased.

We ended up going to a restaurant that we always do. It was lovely, although not as lovely as usual. The food was not on par with our past experiences. It is an outdoor restaurant.

It was cold. I ended up keeping My Vegan Leather Jacket on all night (previously worn here and here).

I wore the dress to the post office later in the week and I had two people stop me to tell me that they just loved the red embroidery.

Now I will never know where those bodies are buried.

Don’t look too closely at those mounds behind me.

Do you have a fear of wearing red? Do you talk to yourself in public? Do you always go to the same place on a date? If the meal was not up to par would you say something? I will admit that I said nothing. It would have made my face red even thinking of doing so. And one spot of red was enough for one night.

P.S. I shared this on The Pleated Poppy and Reasons To Dress.

January 20, 2015 by gn0mel0ver

Dreaming: Grandma’s Gift

Something was chasing me. It was fast, but not quite fast enough to catch me. It was probably some sort of zombie creature if I were to guess, because zombies are the things that make my blood run cold. The atmosphere was grey. What were once tall and majestic buildings were now piles of crumbling rubble. The gravel of the desolate city crunched beneath my boots.

I turned the corner and saw a lone structure still standing in the midst of the ruined city. It appeared to be a form of catacombs.

I ducked into the entrance to catch my breath. My heart was pounding. My pursuers were near.

Someone grabbed my arm.

I turned to scream, but it gurgled in my throat in recognition of the person who stood before me.

It was my grandmother, whom in life had passed away two years prior. I began to frantically ask her questions. “What was she doing here? Was she okay? What was I supposed to do?”

But she shook her head in response. She put her finger to her lips to summon me to be quiet.

Then she grabbed my elbow and began leading me further down into the catacombs. My head felt dizzy with exhilaration at seeing her again. The zombie creatures were almost forgotten.

We came to a dead end. A huge unyielding stone wall blocked our escape. I began to panic at the thought of being stuck down here trapped by the creatures who were surely on our trail. But again, my grandma shook her head. She inserted a key into a keyhole that I could not see into the wall. It twisted and turned and a small doorway opened. My grandmother gestured for me to go through the door.

I hurriedly did so. She followed me and locked the door behind us. The wall melted in upon itself and became whole once more. We were safe.

In fact, we were more than safe. We were in a new area. A new dream.

It was a dome-like structure covered in glass. It was bright and sunny although I could not see the sky nor anything outside of the dome. It raised above my head about thirty stories tall. There were no buildings inside of it. Just a giant tree that raised almost to the ceiling. I had a feeling that the dome grew tall as the tree did, so that the tree itself would never reach its top. I could hear birds chirping in its massive branches. The air was calm and cool.

I turned to my grandma.

She smiled at me. She led me to the edge of the grass and placed her hand at the small of my back. And then she pushed me gently.

I started to fall forward but instead of falling, I was caught in the air. Inside the dome I could fly. I wobbled at first, but soon I was taking experimental turns ten feet off of the ground. My grandmother’s face beamed up at me in delight. I soared higher, skimming the tree’s outstretched branches with my fingertips. The freedom and happiness bubbled up inside of me as I glided round and round inside of the dome.

The gift that she gave me in the dream was beautiful. The gift of the dream, itself, was even better.

January 19, 2015 by gn0mel0ver

Snow Ollie

Both of my dogs were flabbergasted by the snow that made its way to our house in Southern California a few weeks ago. The first time Ollie touched it he jumped about a foot in the air. Do you see his tongue? Is that not the cutest thing ever?

Murphy did not have such qualms. His terror quickly dispelled to anxiety that someone was going to touch his snow. It was all his. And he could not traipse through it fast enough to explore and guard it. The snowgnome threw him for a loop, though.

Once Ollie saw Murphy jumping through the terrifying whiteness he became a little more brave. He wanted to explore, but because of his love of cars, we had to put a leash on him lest he decide to go give a car a hug and become an unfortunate victim to his love.

I decided to take a few pictures with him in the snow just for fun. I had purchased this dress on a popback from Anthropologie for $30, so it is sold out now. It is all one piece. Anthropologie’s Layered Shirtdress is also a layered more work appropriate one piece dress and I wrote about my favorite layered one-piece last year. Free People’s Lily Dress is a sweet design in a similar vein. I guess I like the ease of an all-ready-put-together ensemble. Although I will admit part of me feels like a child in this. Perhaps it is the pigtails?

Nah.

Look at that face. It is pure love right there. Ollie looks pretty happy, too.

Do you own any easy pieces that look like more but are actually one item? Do your animals like the snow? Ollie spent about five minutes in it and then he was done. Murphy, on the other hand, would have stayed outside all day in it if we would have let him.

But we didn’t.

I don’t know if his little heart could have taken the harsh reality of the sun melting all of his icy treasure. I think he is still looking for it. He probably thinks Ollie ate it all.

Which would not really surprise any of us… Except Ollie.

P.S. Nothing, and I mean nothing, has made me as happy as this Instagram account in a very long time. It is Matilda_and_Kiki. The owner is documenting her newborn bulldog puppies several times a day. Sometimes with video. It is my family’s new favorite thing to check on the internet. The cuteness is heartwarming and I want to just grab two of the puppies and rub them on my cheeks!

Gnome Lover

Stumbling through life while still having fun

post

Winning Creamy Chicken Enchiladas

Lady In Red… Embroidery

Dreaming: Grandma’s Gift

Snow Ollie