Enchiladas Rojas
When I was growing up, enchiladas were a family affair. On enchilada night, my sisters and I knew we would be called upon to take our positions alongside our mom in the kitchen: one sister fried the tortillas, another dipped them in the sauce, another (usually me) stuffed them, and the last rolled and transferred them to the pan. I can never think about enchiladas without remembering all those happy times in the kitchen. Not everyone in the house loved onions as much as my dad did, so Mom had us add the onions to only half of the enchiladas. She’d stick a toothpick in the pan with the onions to mark it, and everyone could sit down to enjoy the same meal.