Cornmeal Empanadas

Thanksgiving. Eighth year. The food drive fed 175 families (the growth is exponential now, fueled by the TEDx video and the upcoming magazine article and the particular magic of a community that feeds itself). The dinner: thirteen at the table (Marcus came home from Morehouse for the weekend — he walked in the door and went straight to the kitchen and opened the Folgers can and smelled it and said, "Home," and I thought: yes, baby, that's the word, and it will always be the word, and the word lives in the can).

Everything was cooked. Every tradition. Isaiah's greens at 5 AM (now his seventh year of the anniversary greens, extended to Thanksgiving because the greens are his and the greens go everywhere). Jasmine's cornbread. Marcus's salsa (he brought it from Morehouse — he makes it in his dorm kitchen now, the homemade tortillas too, and his roommate is apparently addicted). Zoe's dessert (a pumpkin cheesecake this year — she has moved beyond brownies into pastry and the move is magnificent). Curtis ate with one hand and said "hm" and fell asleep and the "hm" was the whole review and the sleep was the verdict: satisfied.

After dinner, Marcus sat at the kitchen table with me. Just us. The table where everything happens. He said, "Mom, I'm thinking about law school." I said, "I know." He said, "How do you know?" I said, "Baby, I've known since you argued about bedtime at eleven." He laughed. I laughed. The kitchen held our laughter the way it holds everything: completely, without judgment, with the warmth of garlic and the permanence of iron.

When Marcus walked through that door and went straight to the Folgers can, I knew the kitchen had already done its work — but it was watching him pull out a bowl and start working dough at the counter, the same hands that learned to roll tortillas right here on this table, that made me want to write this down. He’s been making his own dough at Morehouse, scaling up for a roommate who can’t stop eating it, and somewhere in that image — my son, in a dorm kitchen, feeding people — I saw the whole future. These cornmeal empanadas are what that looks like when it comes home: sturdy, golden, made from scratch, worth every minute.

Prep Time: 35 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 1 hr | Servings: 12 empanadas

Ingredients

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1/2 cup fine yellow cornmeal
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
6 tablespoons cold unsalted butter, cut into small cubes
1 large egg
4–5 tablespoons ice water
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
For the filling:
1 cup black beans, drained and rinsed
3/4 cup sharp cheddar or pepper jack cheese, shredded
1/2 cup corn kernels (fresh, frozen, or fire-roasted)
1/4 cup salsa (homemade or store-bought)
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1/2 teaspoon smoked paprika
Salt and black pepper to taste
For finishing:
1 egg, beaten (egg wash)
Flaky sea salt, for topping

Instructions

Make the dough. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, cornmeal, salt, and baking powder. Add the cold butter cubes and work them in with your fingertips until the mixture resembles coarse crumbs with a few pea-sized pieces remaining.
Bring it together. In a small bowl, whisk together the egg, vinegar, and 4 tablespoons of ice water. Pour over the flour mixture and stir with a fork until the dough just comes together, adding the remaining tablespoon of water if needed. Do not overwork. Shape into a disk, wrap in plastic, and refrigerate for at least 20 minutes.
Prepare the filling. Combine the black beans, cheese, corn, salsa, cumin, and smoked paprika in a bowl. Season with salt and pepper. Stir until evenly mixed.
Roll and fill. Preheat oven to 400°F. Line two baking sheets with parchment paper. On a lightly floured surface, roll the dough out to about 1/8-inch thickness. Cut into 4-inch circles using a round cutter or the rim of a wide glass. Re-roll scraps as needed.
Fold and seal. Place a heaping tablespoon of filling in the center of each circle. Fold the dough over into a half-moon shape and press the edges firmly together. Crimp with a fork or fold-and-press with your fingers to seal completely.
Bake. Arrange empanadas on the prepared baking sheets. Brush the tops with the beaten egg wash and sprinkle lightly with flaky sea salt. Bake for 22–25 minutes, until deep golden brown and crisp on the edges.
Rest and serve. Let cool for 5 minutes before serving. Serve with extra salsa, sour cream, or hot sauce alongside.

Nutrition (per serving)

Cornmeal Empanadas — The Recipe Marcus Carried Home from Morehouse