Sizzling Sunset Chicken Enchiladas with Red Sauce – A Flavor Revelation
Have you ever stood in your kitchen at exactly 7:43pm wondering why nobody talks about the proper way to roll tortillas? That’s the thought that smacked me upside the head last Tuesday when I was elbow-deep in enchilada sauce, my left sock mysteriously wet from what I can only assume was the water I’d spilled earlier while boiling chicken. I’ve been making Chicken Enchiladas with Red Sauce since my college roommate’s cousin taught me back in ’09—or was it ’07? Either way, I’ve twisted, turned, and completely flumoxed this recipe into something that makes regular dinner guests threaten to move in permanently. The secret lies in what I call the “sauce simmer-soak,” a technique you won’t find in those fancy cookbooks written by chefs who’ve never had to cook with a flashlight during a power outage. Trust me on this one, k?
My Enchilada Evolution (or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Sauce)
I should start by saying that my first attempt at Chicken Enchiladas with Red Sauce nearly sent my smoke detector into therapy. This was back when I lived in that weird apartment in Phoenix where the oven temperature was more suggestion than reality. March 16th, 2012—I remember because it was the day after I’d bought that ridiculous green spatula that melted immediately upon touching a hot pan (shoulda known better).
My Aunt Jessie—not actually my aunt, just my mom’s college friend who insisted I call her that—she taught me that enchiladas should “swim before they bake,” which made absolutely no sense until about my eighth attempt. Then in 2015, I moved to Denver where the altitude made everything cook differently, and I had to readapt my whole approach.
I’ve gone through at least twelve distinct versions of Chicken Enchiladas with Red Sauce, including that unfortunate month when I was convinced that adding cinnamon was revolutionary (narrator: it wasn’t).
The best advice came from Carlos, my neighbor back in 2018, who witnessed me having a complete breakdown over lumpy sauce and whispered, “You gotta respect the chiles, but don’t let them know you’re afraid” (I still don’t fully understand what this means, but somehow it helps whenever I’m making these enchiladas).
Whatcha Need (Ingredients That Won’t Judge Your Cooking Skills)
- 8 medium flour tortillas (the ones that feel like they’ve been sitting on your counter juuust long enough to be perfect—too fresh and they tear, too old and they crack, ya know?)
- 3 cups shredded chicken (boiled with a splash of tequila—yes, TEQUILA—trust me on this bizarre addition)
- 1 & ¾ cups red enchilada sauce, homemade if you’re showing off, store-bought if you’re honest with yourself
- 2½ c. shredded cheese (I prefer a monterey-cheddar blend, but use whatever makes your heart sing—just not that pre-shredded stuff coated in potato starch, for the love of all things holy)
- 1 medium onion, diced into what I call “teary little squares” (roughly ¼ inch if you’re boring and need measurements)
- 3 cloves garlic, crushed by the back of your knife like they personally offended you
- 1 can (4oz) diced green chiles – mild or hot depending on whether your dinner guests are wimps
- A Garbett pinch of cumin (about ¾ tsp for those who haven’t mastered my family’s unique measuring system)
- 2 tblspoons vegetable oil (olive oil works too, but then you’ll feel compelled to tell everyone you used olive oil)
- ½ bundle cilantro, roughly chopped (unless you’re one of those people with the soap-gene, then substitute with flat-leaf parsley and live your sad, cilantro-less existence)
- Sour cream and avocado for serving (optional but are they really? I mean, c’mon)
The How-To Chaos (Instructions For The Brave)
STEP FIRST: Preheat your oven to 375°F. Or 350°F if your oven runs hot like mine. Actually, maybe check with an oven thermometer first? Mine’s off by about 20 degrees, which I discovered during The Great Cookie Disaster of 2019.
STEP B: Heat your vegetable oil in a largish skillet over medium flame. Toss in those teary little onion squares and let them do their translucent transformation (about 4 minutes or the length of that one Lizzo song I always forget the name of). Add the garlic for the final minute—burn it and we’re no longer friends.
STEP THREE-ISH: Add your shredded chicken, cumin, and green chiles. Stir until everything is getting acquainted nicely. This is where I perform what I call the “aromatherapy hunch”—leaning over the pan and inhaling deeply while making inappropriate noises of culinary pleasure. Remove from heat after 2-3 minutes of warming through.
STEP DELTA: Pour about ½ cup of enchilada sauce into the bottom of a 9×13 baking dish. Spread it around like you’re applying sunscreen to a fidgety toddler—unevenly but with good intentions.
STEP CINCO: Now for the tortilla ballet! Take each tortilla and give it a quick 5-second kiss in a hot, dry skillet—just enough to make it pliable but not so much that it gets crispy. I learned this trick after The Great Tortilla Snap of 2016 when I tried rolling cold tortillas and ended up with what looked like a crime scene of torn tortilla corpses.
ASSEMBLY PHASE (not actually a step but feels important): Place about ⅓ cup of chicken mixture in a line down the center of each tortilla. Sprinkle with a generous pinch of cheese—actually, more than that, don’t be stingy, this isn’t a diet recipe. Roll it up like you’re swaddling a baby burrito and place seam-side down in the sauced baking dish. Repeat until all tortillas are filled, rolled, and nestled together like sardines at a slumber party.
FINAL STEP BEFORE THE FINALE: Pour the remaining sauce over the enchiladas, making sure to cover every exposed tortilla surface (dry spots become sad, crispy patches that will haunt your dreams). Sprinkle remaining cheese on top with reckless abandon.
THE ACTUAL FINAL STEP: Bake for 25—actually, make that 22 minutes, until the cheese has melted and is starting to get those amazing little brown spots that make people fight over corner pieces. Let it rest for 5 minutes before serving, or ignore that advice like I usually do and serve immediately while warning everyone about molten-hot cheese roof-of-mouth injuries.
Notes & Nuggets of Questionable Wisdom
• CONTROVERSIAL OPINION ALERT: Do NOT pre-roll all your tortillas before adding sauce. My former cooking instructor Jerome (who may or may not have been a certified chef but wore the jacket so I believed him) insisted on rolling each enchilada immediately after saucing. I’ve since discovered this is completely unnecessary and just makes your hands look like you’ve committed a tomato-based crime.
• The sauce-to-tortilla ratio should follow what I call the “82% Coverage Rule”—meaning you want about 82% of your tortilla surface area covered in sauce. More makes them soggy, less makes them dry. How do you measure 82%? You don’t. You feel it in your soul.
• For an extra-special variation, try my “Tuesday Night Special” technique: add a scoop of the sauce to the chicken filling before rolling. This creates what I’ve dubbed “inside-out enchilada syndrome” and will change your life.
• Store leftovers in the fridge for up to 3 days. They taste even better the next day, especially if eaten cold while standing in front of the open refrigerator at midnight questioning your life choices.
• If your sauce is too runny, try my “secret thickener”—a single unsalted saltine cracker pulverized and whisked in. I discovered this by accident when a cracker fell into my sauce in 2014, and I’ve been doing it intentionally ever since. [Don’t tell the authentic Mexican cooks]
• DON’T FORGET: Check out this guide on chili heat levels if you want to adjust your sauce spiciness!
Kitchen Tools I Swear By
THE FOREVER SPATULA ★★★★★
This silicone spatula from the discontinued Williams-Sonoma 2017 summer line still haunts my dreams with its perfection.
I’ve been known to pack this in my suitcase when traveling to family members’ homes because I don’t trust their inferior tools.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CKD7GS2
ENCHILADA SAUCE PAN ★★★★★
Any 4-quart non-stick saucepan will work, but I’ve dedicated one specifically to sauce-making to avoid the “ghost flavors” phenomenon.
My current one has a dent from when I dropped it during The Great Kitchen Dance Party of 2020, which actually improves sauce circulation.
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B003IKMSFE
Making It Your Own (Without Ruining It)
If you’re one of those people who can’t follow a recipe without “improving” it (I see you), here are some variations that I’ve tested through blood, sweat, and several inedible batches:
• The “Sunday Special”: Add a layer of refried black beans to the bottom of each tortilla before the chicken. This makes them heavier but adds what I call “nap insurance” to the meal.
• Vegetarian version: Replace chicken with roasted cauliflower, zucchini, and corn. Warning: this tastes nothing like chicken enchiladas but my vegetarian friend Skylar claims it’s “transformative” (she also believes crystals can charge her phone, so take that endorsement as you will).
• For an odd but strangely compelling twist, try adding a tablespoon of creamy peanut butter to your sauce. I discovered this while making lunch for my nephew when some PB got on my spoon before stirring the sauce. It adds a depth that’s unexplainable but weirdly perfect. Don’t tell anyone I told you this.
The One Question Everyone Asks
Q: Can I make Chicken Enchiladas with Red Sauce ahead of time?
A: Technically yes, practically no. While conventional wisdom says you can assemble enchiladas up to 24 hours ahead, I’ve found they enter what I call the “soggy danger zone” after about 4 hours in the fridge. Instead, I prepare all components separately and perform a rapid assembly operation right before baking. The texture difference is what separates “meh” enchiladas from “where have these been all my life” enchiladas. My great-aunt’s neighbor’s cousin who claimed to have won a regional enchilada contest in New Mexico (unverified) swore that pre-assembled enchiladas develop microscopic sauce pockets that compromise structural integrity upon baking.
Final Thoughts & Enchilada Philosophy
So there you have it—my Chicken Enchiladas with Red Sauce, born from disasters, perfected through stubborn determination, and shared with only mild exaggeration. They’re not the enchiladas your abuela would make (unless your abuela is chaotically experimental), but they’re guaranteed to make your dinner table the place where friends mysteriously show up without invitation.
Remember what I said in the beginning about the “sauce simmer-soak”? Well, I never actually explained what that meant, and now I’m out of space. Maybe that’s the real enchilada lesson—some culinary mysteries are meant to remain unsolved.
What will you add to make these enchiladas uniquely yours? Will you discover the perfect cheese blend? Who knows—maybe YOUR kitchen disaster will lead to the next great innovation in Chicken Enchiladas with Red Sauce!
Until next time, may your tortillas never crack and your sauce always be the perfect consistency.
Chef Margo “Enchilada Enthusiast” Wembley, CEC (Chaotic Enchilada Creator)
