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.
This pasta has some really big energy about it. It’s so extra, it’s the type of thing you should be eating in your bikini while drinking a magnum of rosé, not in Hebden Bridge (or wherever you live), but on a beach on Mykonos.
Among the top tier of sauces is Indonesian satay sauce, because it is the embodiment of joy and life. In fact, this sauce is also trustworthy and highly respectful of whatever it comes into contact with—perhaps it is, in fact, the perfect friend?
Turn humble onions into this thrifty yet luxe pasta dinner.
I should address the awkward truth that I don’t use butter here but cream instead. You could, if you’re a stickler for tradition (and not a heretic like me), add a big slab of butter to the finished curry.
Caramelized onions, melty Gruyère, and a deeply savory broth deliver the kind of comfort that doesn’t need improving.
A dash of cocoa powder adds depth and richness to the broth of this easy turkey chili.
This is what I call a fridge-eater recipe. The key here is getting a nice sear on the sausage and cooking the tomato down until it coats the sausage and vegetables well.
This classic 15-minute sauce is your secret weapon for homemade mac and cheese, chowder, lasagna, and more.