Page 52 of The Lyrics of Love

After that, Carter had him peel and chop both an onion and green pepper, sautéing them in a little butter together until they were soft. Nash opened cans of chicken broth and cream of chicken soup, along with a can of Rotel diced tomatoes and chiles, a staple from his childhood. The contents of the cans were dumped into a Dutch oven, along with the veggies and the now-cooked strips, which Nash had quickly cut into small pieces before adding them to the mix.

“All you need now is to add some garlic powder and black pepper, light if you want. I like to go heavier for a more robust taste.”

He liberally sprinkled both into the soup and stirred.

“That’s practically it,” Carter said. “Bring it to a boil and cut the heat back to a simmer after that boil hits. You can simmer for as little as thirty minutes or sixty or so. I like to go sixty myself. We’ll add a little touch in the end, an easy cheat, to make it tortilla soup. And we’ll stir every now and then. For now, though, we can move on to our enchiladas.”

Carter preheated the oven, teaching Nash a shortcut on how to peel shrimp. Nash had liked how Carter had made the soup a bit healthier by adding low sodium chicken broth. He did the same with the shrimp enchiladas, having them cube Weight Watchers cream cheese and carb-balanced flour tortillas. While Nash did all the sautéing of onions in olive oil, adding green chilies and chili powder, salt, and pepper, eventually folding in the shrimp and cream cheese, the ex-firefighter demonstrated how much of the shrimp mixture to put in a tortilla and the way to roll it tightly, placing the seam on the bottom. He then allowed Nash to roll up the rest of the tortillas himself.

They topped the enchiladas with a chunky salsa and shredded, low-fat Monterey Jack cheese, another tip that Carter mentioned didn’t skimp on flavor and made the entrée slightly healthier.

“Slide those babies into the oven, Nash. I’ve got it set for three-fifty. They’ll bake between twenty and twenty-five minutes. I tend to go twenty-two, but then I’ve always been partial to that number.”

He placed the Pyrex baking dish into the oven, set the timer, and returned to stir the soup again, having nursed it that way a few times as he was preparing the enchiladas.

“That’s pretty much it,” Carter said. “Did you think it was hard or easy?” he asked.

“Easy. Not too many steps, especially that soup, and I like how the soup can simmer while you make and bake the enchiladas. This would be a great meal for entertaining friends. Heck, the soup alone with all that chicken in it is enough for a meal. It’s something kids and adults would like. Speaking of kids, I understand you contribute to a charity that does a lot of good for sick kids.”

“I do, Nash. My wife Tenley and I support Make-A-Wish America.”

Carter took a few minutes to explain how the foundation put together life-changing wishes for children who had been struck by critical illnesses. He talked about how families were brought closer together and how the foundation even united entire communities in the support of fulfillment of these wishes.

Carter concluded with, “A wish begins with hope. And hope begins with you. I hope you’ll consider making a donation at www.wish.org.”

“It’s a worthy cause and would mean a lot to those sick kids and their families,” Nash added. “In fact, I’ve written a song this week. Maybe you’ve seen it online. It’s brand-new. Only a couple of days old. It’s called A Mistake I Can’t Take Back. I think I’ll release it as a single and donate my share to Make-A-Wish America.” He looked straight at Tenley’s phone. “I hope those of you watching will consider making a donation, too. If not, download my new song—and I’ll make it for you.”

He stirred the soup again, and Carter had him remove bowls from the cabinet.

“What we’re going to do is quick and easy, but it totally makes the soup. Grab that bag of tortilla chips, Nash.”

He did so, opening them.

“You’re going to crunch up some and place them in the bottom of each bowl. Then we’ll ladle soup over them. The liquid softens them. Let’s try that now.”

He crumbled chips into the two bowls and then took the soup ladle Carter handed to him and placed two scoops into each bowl.

“Now, let’s finish it off, Nash. Open that pack of grated cheese. You can use anything you like—the Monterey Jack we put on top of the enchiladas. A sharp or mild cheddar. Whatever floats your boat.”

Nash sprinkled a healthy amount of cheese on top of the soup in each bowl.

“Let’s try this because it’s almost time for the enchiladas to be done,” Carter told him.

He dipped his spoon into the soup, stirring it some, and then brought the spoon to his mouth. He sighed after his first bite.

“Damn, that’s good, Carter. Really, really good.”

Carter ate a bite. “You did a great job, Nash. Tell me about the flavors.”

They talked a bit about what they each tasted. He told Carter he might add a bit more of the garlic powder when he made it the next time, but he wouldn’t change anything beyond that.

The timer dinged. Nash set down his spoon and grabbed a pair of oven mitts, opening the oven and checking the enchiladas. “Looks good to me.”

“Then pull them out. You can set them here. We’ll let them cool about two minutes.” Carter picked up a pie server. “I find if you use this to cut between enchiladas and then scoop them out with a pie server, it makes for less mess.”

Nash dished out an enchilada for each of them. They both sampled what was on their plates.

“How easy was that?” he said, marveling at the fact he had just made delicious enchiladas. “I’ve got to get Pops, my granddad, to watch this segment. I can’t wait to make them for him. He lives on my farm in Tennessee, but he’s always lamenting the fact that Nashville just doesn’t know how to make Tex-Mex. Hot chicken, yes. Chicken and waffles, yes. But not Tex-Mex.”

---