I made these NYT chicken enchiladas last night and they were literally (“literally”) one of the worst things I’ve ever eaten. They tasted like paper. Maybe if I ate paper all the time I would have been cool with this, but as it is I do not. Nor am I cool with the three years or whatever I spent cooking and then shredding chicken, likewise not a top hobby. I will admit that I used store-bought tomatillo salsa, so I suppose I could blame it on that, or on the sour cream & onion potato chips I ate while these were baking, which may have artificially inflated my tongue expectations and in retrospect were probably a mistake. But I’ve gotta find some scapegoat, and it’s not going to be my desire for food that tastes like something. I don’t feel like that’s a very high bar to meet, frankly. “Tastes like something” is pretty much my floor.
In summation, I can see why this recipe got over 300 comments although I haven’t read any of them because I’m not that interested in the thoughts of others (news to my millions of readers, I’ll bet), and all I want to do at this point is complain. I don’t want anyone to come around and tell me what I could have done differently or better or how this recipe could have been salvaged. I just want to be petty and small.
Anyway, flavor: try it sometime. But not these enchiladas.