Enchilada Cooking Class

This is a shot of Holt at Komu. He was pretending to look "mean".

As you might recall, in December, I made apple pie with one of my adult education classes (referred to as “eikawa” class). We met at the middle school and used the kitchen upstairs. It was quite nice, if not a little stressful for me. Having been some number of weeks since the last cooking class, I decided it was time for my Thursday morning eikawa class to cook again.

They always want something, “very American.” After a great deal of thought and consideration, I decided the most “American” food was probably casserole of one kind or another. However, casserole isn’t necessarily very exciting and not my first choice. My answer was to come to class with a list of dishes we could cook. Most of the class was taken up with my explanations of what they were and what would be involved. In the end, they chose enchiladas. It was agreed that all eight women would pitch in 1500 yen and I would take care of procuring the food. Many of the ingredients required an Internet store, so I had to plan well in advance. Typically, it takes a week for food I order to arrive. I also took the liberty to order extras, so I could present them with a “typical” enchilada plate/meal.

The menu:
Chicken enchiladas with green (tomatillo) sauce
Mexican rice
Refried beans
Tortilla Soup (thank you Lupe for the wonderful recipe!)

I had to reassure the ladies that we would not cook spicy food. I also volunteered to do a small demonstration on how to make corn tortillas. Quite a full morning, don’t you agree?

I arrived at the school at 9:00 lugging the second of my large boxes of food. I had enough ingredients to make fifty enchiladas. We wanted to make enough for everyone to take a bit home. My first task was to begin cooking the chicken, so I immediately filled a large pot with about 3 kilos of chicken tenders, garlic, and onions. Before long, the kitchen smelled great, and I felt at home with such a familiar smell. The ladies all commented on it when they began arriving at 10:00. They gathered around and talked excitedly about the pot of chicken, the raw rice I had fried in preparation for the Mexican rice, and the other miscellaneous ingredients. I think I understood about 1% of what they were chattering about. I’m used to it, though. Thank goodness Simon-san, the doctor’s wife came and was able to translate my directions.

The next order of business was to decide on whether to make one large batch of filling or five separate batches. Thankfully, they chose to all work together. This made things go expediently. Soon I had one group of women shredding chicken and another chopping onions, garlic, and green chilies. It was amazing to watch them shred. Japanese women can chop, dice, and mince like professional chefs. Once the veggies were chopped, everyone helped shred chicken and I moved over to start sautéing the onions and garlic. It took about four pans to get it all done, but oh what a wonderful aroma! Two women took over cooking the veggies (we only had two pans) and I wandered the room checking on things. After putting the rice on to cook, I prepped the beans (which translates to “I found someone to open the can for me using a very old-fashioned can opener with no handle”). I also added the necessary ingredients to the chicken broth, soon to become tortilla soup.

Once everything was prepared, I mixed the filling together and marveled at the enormous bowl of chicken we had. The ladies watched, making their little noises of surprise in a very Japanese way. Moving to another table, I showed them how to dip the tortilla in sauce, fill it, roll it up in the pan, and move to the next tortilla. We had a tad bit of difficulty with the tortillas being too cold, but I used it as a teachable moment and we managed to use the oven/microwaves to heat the tortillas. Once I had filled a small pan, added the cheese and sauce topping (we used jarred sauce – it was too easy to pass up), I showed them the final product. I was answered with those little noises they make, again. It would be futile for me to attempt a description. You have to hear them to understand how different they sound. Anyway, I then turned then loose on the rest of the enchiladas and proceeded to check on all five of the ovens. Once the last of the enchiladas were rolled and the ovens were full, I transitioned into tortilla making. I have no idea what they were saying when I pulled out the cast iron skilled we are so thankful to have found in the house when we arrived, but it was definitely noteworthy. I made a few tortillas, and then let them practice a little. After we had a few, I cut them into strips and fried them up, all the while talking about the marvels of corn tortillas and all the wonderful things you can make with them. They were really tickled when I slapped two tortillas together with some Colby cheese in the middle and heated it in the skillet. I sliced it into triangles and they just loved it!

Food Preparation
More food preparation

The food had all finished cooking by now, with just an oven or two finishing up the remaining enchiladas. I was cleaning up a bit when I noticed that a small group of women were looking at my pot of beans, tortilla soup, and Mexican rice with a rather confused look on their faces. I quickly realized they were trying to figure out how all three dishes related to each other. “Did they need to put the beans or rice into the soup,” one face seemed to say. So of course I did the logical thing. I fixed a plate with beans, rice, enchiladas, and put some soup into a bowl. Viola! “Oh!! One dish meal!! They exclaimed excitedly. Yes, I suppose that putting your food all on one plate is deserving of some notoriety here in the “Land-of-food-that-shall-not-touch-each-other-and-must-be-served-in-separate-dishes”. Next thing I know, they’ve plated everything just like I did, set a table with forks or spoons, depending on what they could find, and put out hot mugs of black tea someone had brought. Others had brought some sweets for dessert. We then sat to eat. I feel that everyone really did like it and they weren’t just trying to save my feelings. Several women had more soup, and one of them asked if she could take the leftovers home. Everyone had enough enchiladas to take home. One woman said she liked the Mexican rice, but she just knew that her husband would never eat it. The following day, Chihiro told Aaron (at the pre-school) that her husband refused to eat the enchiladas. She thought maybe it was the corn smell.

The table

On a final note, here's a couple of shots of the boys at Komu. The second one is a ten second video file.

Holt on the Train on the Merry-go-round
Peddling the merry-go-round