Tamale Enchilada Casserole

Last week of April and spring practice is done. The team disperses into summer — speed camps, 7-on-7 leagues, the travel football circuit that I have complicated feelings about. I want my guys working. I don't want them burning out by June. The balance between enough and too much is different for every kid and takes years to read correctly. After fifteen years coaching I'm better at it than I used to be, which means I've learned to ask questions before I hand out advice. "How's your body?" is a better first question than "Why weren't you at camp?"

The twins are in a soccer phase. Marco is all in — elbows out, chasing every ball regardless of whether it's theoretically his. Elena is more deliberate, more positional. They play on the same recreational team and the dynamic is exactly what you'd expect from twins who are competitive without being quite identical. Their coach, a very patient man named Bill who I feel deep sympathy for, told me Marco has "a lot of hustle." I know this is diplomatic. Marco has a lot of everything at full volume. He gets it from me. I have apologized to Lisa for this at least forty times.

I made tamale-inspired enchiladas this week — not a real dish, just something I invented to use up leftover masa from a small batch of tamales I'd attempted in March. I spread the masa into a baking dish, layered green chile chicken on top, covered with red chile sauce and cheese, and baked it until it was beautiful and chaotic and probably-not-traditional-but-absolutely-delicious. Lisa called it a tamale casserole. I told her we don't have a word for it. She said we do — leftovers. She's not wrong. Some of the best food I've made started as leftovers with ambition.

Called Ruben on Sunday. Got him on the first ring. He sounds good — alert, almost upbeat. Said his rotation was going well. We talked about Alejandro, about Marisol's new job, about the Dodgers. They're both of our teams despite living nowhere near Los Angeles because our father chose them in 1975 and that's how teams work in families. You don't choose. You inherit.

May starts Thursday. Summer is coming. I'm ready for it in the way you can only be ready when you have four kids who've been cooped up since March and a backyard that needs to be used and a grill that has been patient long enough.

That tamale casserole I threw together this week — the one Lisa diplomatically called “leftovers” — turned out to be one of those meals I’ll definitely make again on purpose. The masa base is the move: it holds everything together, soaks up the red chile sauce from the bottom up, and gives the whole dish a texture that’s somewhere between a tamale and a really serious enchilada. If you’ve got leftover masa, use it. If you don’t, the recipe below walks you through a quick batch. Either way, make this on a weeknight when you want something that feels like it took more effort than it did.

Prep Time: 25 min | Cook Time: 40 min | Total Time: 1 hr 5 min | Servings: 6

Ingredients

For the masa base:
2 cups masa harina
1 1/3 cups warm chicken broth
1/3 cup lard or vegetable shortening, softened
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
For the green chile chicken filling:
2 1/2 cups shredded cooked chicken (rotisserie works great)
1 can (4 oz) diced green chiles, undrained
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 teaspoon ground cumin
1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
Salt and black pepper to taste
For the top:
1 1/2 cups red chile enchilada sauce (canned or homemade)
1 1/2 cups shredded Monterey Jack or Mexican blend cheese
Sliced scallions, sour cream, and fresh cilantro for serving

Instructions

Preheat and prep. Heat oven to 375°F. Grease a 9x13-inch baking dish with cooking spray or a thin coat of lard.
Make the masa base. Beat the lard or shortening in a large bowl until fluffy, about 2 minutes. Add masa harina, baking powder, and salt. Pour in warm broth gradually, mixing until a soft, spreadable dough forms — it should be the consistency of thick hummus. If it’s too stiff, add broth one tablespoon at a time.
Spread the masa. Press the masa evenly into the bottom of the prepared baking dish to form a uniform layer about 1/2 inch thick. Use damp hands or the back of a spoon to smooth it out.
Mix the filling. Combine shredded chicken, diced green chiles (with liquid), sour cream, cumin, and garlic powder in a bowl. Season with salt and pepper. Stir until evenly coated.
Layer the casserole. Spread the chicken filling evenly over the masa base. Pour the red chile enchilada sauce over the top in an even layer, then scatter the shredded cheese over everything.
Bake uncovered. Bake for 35–40 minutes, until the cheese is melted and bubbling, the edges are set, and the masa has firmed up and pulled slightly from the sides of the dish. Let rest for 10 minutes before cutting.
Serve. Cut into squares and serve with a dollop of sour cream, sliced scallions, and fresh cilantro. A side of pinto beans or a simple green salad rounds it out.

Nutrition (per serving)

Tamale Enchilada Casserole — When Leftovers Have Ambition