It was Soup Day again yesterday! I made nothing!!
Okay, that's not entirely true. I made shortbread, the easiest thing in the world to make. It doesn't even count as making anything because it's just that easy. At least when one shows up with a bag of chips, she's "made" a trip to the store.
I also contributed turkey fake-chiladas, that were left over from the Halloween potluck on Monday, which brings me to the point of this little discussion.
Evidently, I do not share recipes sufficiently. Who knew?
After being roundly scolded for not posting the recipe for last week's white bean soup---it's SOUP! I threw stuff in a stock pot! There's no actual recipe!!! That's crazy talk!---I have decided to post the recipe for the fake-chiladas.
Fine. We'll talk soup, too, though I warn you now, these will only be vague gesturings towards instruction. I'll try harder next week. X-ray Vicki has decreed that next week's Soup Day will be Wednesday. No, she did. Really. Look.
So sayeth the Lord.
I think Vicki issued this decree because Smooth and Groovy Steve [also from X-ray] was incensed that Soup Day hadn't been scheduled on the one day of the week he works in this building.
NB: By incensed, I mean that the smooth-and-groovy, I'm-taking-illicit-substances-in-very-small-dosages smile that usually lives on his face had been momentarily replaced by an expression vague distress. He is, after all, still Smooth and Groovy Steve.
So. The white bean soup. Here we go.
First, I rinsed a package of dried white beans, then threw them, with great force and callousness, into a Crock Pot, drowning them with a bunch of water. The beans had 12+ hours, overnight, to think about what they'd done. After agreeing their behavior was unacceptable, they were drained and set aside.
In the meantime, leeks, celery, onions and shallots were chopped soundly and sauteed in olive oil. Really, some vegetables...! Because everyone was a little quiet, red chili peppers were chopped and tossed in. There was a small fistfight. Then vegetable stock and the beans were added. Everyone spent a little time getting to know one another, then quinoa, arborio rice and carrots joined the party. Johnny-come-latelys. Pfft. After all of this, I ignored the lot of them and magically, it became soup.
I should totally write a cookbook.
Moving on: Chicken [or turkey] Fake-chiladas. You may ask, "Lisa Marie, why are they fake-chiladas?" You may ask, "Lisa Marie, does the inclusion of turkey make any real difference in this dish?" You may ask, "Lisa Marie, isn't it time to get your meds adjusted?"
To the last question, I laugh mockingly in tandem with my other imaginary friend. We scoff at you and your meds!!
To the middle question, I assure you, both chicken and turkey work very well.
To the first question, I can attest that any recipe that starts with Campbell's Cream of Anything is not authentic Mexican cuisine. It just isn't. These are only real enchiladas if you grew up in Minnesota. And if you did grow up in Minnesota, please do not add lutefisk.
2 cans cream of chicken soup [condensed]
1 cup sour cream
1 bunch of green onions, chopped
1 can mild green chiles, diced
6 chicken breasts, cooked and chopped
8 ounces cheese [cheddar, colby, pepperjack, whatevah], shredded
12 big flour tortillas or 24 taco-sized ones
1. Mix together soup, sour cream, chiles and green onions, then reserve 1 cup of this slurry. Ignore the pouting and complaining about "being left out."
2. Stir in the chicken [or turkey, 6 cups or so] and HALF of the shredded cheese. You won't have to listen to the same whining from the shredded cheese. Shredded cheese knows it sits on top and is really rather smug about it.
3. Slather tortillas with chicken mixture and roll up. If you're especially cool and impressive, you can fold up the sides and make burrito-type pockets. Be sure to do a lot of hair-tossing if this is your method.
4. Swish reserved soup goop over the top, pausing to accept its abject apologies. Sprinkle remaining cheese over that. Block out its incessant bragging.
5. Bake 350 degrees for 45 minutes, or microwave on high for 5-10 minutes, depending on the brutality of your microwave.
6. Fall upon fake-chiladas and inhale like the ravening beast you are.