Thoughts on Grandma's Enchiladas

My great-grandmother made the best pork enchiladas in the Southwest. She grew up in one of the Mormon colonies in Mexico, and she learned to cook authentic Mexican food. In fact, the enchiladas may just have been part of the reason my grandpa married my grandma. He loved her family, but he REALLY loved her mom's enchiladas!

My grandma carried on the tradition by making her mother's enchilada recipe for every special family occasion. I remember anticipating an enchilada dinner every time we visited my grandparents in Arizona. Each time, the special ingredients were added and the enchiladas were magical. They were never spicy enough for Grandpa, who would add chili powder, but were always just a little too spicy for me, and I would add sour cream and shredded lettuce. I had no idea how much work went into them.

For a few months after I graduated from BYU, I lived with my widowed grandma. One Saturday, we made enchiladas together so she could show me how to make them just right. After all, it's not just following a recipe. Although I have rarely made the enchiladas since then, this is one of my treasured memories from that time with Grandma.

Today I made Grandma's enchiladas for a friend's 40th birthday party. Despite the bacon grease and hot oil for the tortillas spitting all over my kitchen, the red sauce simmering and spraying a fine mist over the stove, the smoke filling my little apartment and continually setting off the smoke alarm, and the hour it took me to clean up the kitchen afterward, I was bombarded with the good memories this particular process evoked. I miss Grandma. I am grateful for her legacy and for the legacy of my great-grandmother, represented by a recipe for pork enchiladas.