The easiest, flakiest, meatiest, meatless empanadas

With a couple premade shortcuts, any time is empanada time

Hey team, welcome back to Cool Beans! It’s my absolute pleasure to bring you another Puerto Rican–inspired recipe that, like the sofrito that starts so many of the island’s dishes, deserves some real estate in your freezer. 

I’m totally biased, but I’m calling it: Empanadas are the perfect food. These pleasingly portable and endlessly versatile savory turnovers have been my snack of choice since I was a kid. As an adult, I have a whole new appreciation for them as the ideal vehicle for leftovers since you can stuff them with just about anything. I love them so much I made a whole business out of selling them. Turns out I’m not alone in my zeal. Out of all the baked goods at my bakery, empanadas are one of the most requested items.

Empanadas are a traditional street food in Central and South America and the Caribbean, so they are made for on-the-go eating. You can also down a couple of ‘em with a salad and easily call it dinner. I maintain a stash in my freezer for whenever I need a quick meal (or a last-minute party app). I don’t always have time to make them completely from scratch, so I lean on some shortcuts and premade ingredients, including frozen puff pastry, to get these pockets of goodness into the oven STAT. 

Today I’m sharing my family recipe (but making it beefless) along with a quintessential dipping sauce made from stuff you probably have at home, like that dusty jar of roasted red peppers in the back of your pantry. Let’s start with that sauce, shall we?

The review: A chimichurri right outta the pantry

Things are gettin’ saucy. Credit: Gabriella Vigoreaux

Given its street-food status, an empanada doesn’t traditionally include (or require) a sauce. But if you’re in the mood for a dip, chimichurri is a classic choice. Both are ubiquitous in Argentina, where empanadas are made with wheat flour (not corn), baked (not fried), and served with the zippy herby salsa. Chimichurri comes in two colors: red and green. I grew up on the green stuff, so this week I thought I’d try a recipe for its sweet and smoky cousin chimichurri rojo. It doesn’t use as many herbs and relies more on pantry ingredients, so it’s a tad more accessible when you need a quick sauce.

While the green version is jammed with heaping cups of herbs like parsley and mint, red chimichurri is made with roasted red peppers, garlic, smoked paprika, chile flakes, and dried oregano. A bit of chopped parsley and cilantro get thrown in to brighten up the mix, which is held together by olive oil and red wine vinegar. 

Check out the full recipe for chimichurri rojo at A Latin Flair

It’s tempting to use a food processor to do the dirty work here, but the best chimichurris are hand chopped, and this one is no exception. Using a knife creates a texture that’s more salsa-like as opposed to a full-on purée. The flavors and aromas are more pronounced when things aren’t blended to smithereens. Like green chimichurri, the rojo can double as a dressing or a marinade for veggies. 

Tangy and herbaceous green chimi will always have a place in my heart, but this red version brings more complexity from the charred roasted red peppers and smoky spices. It begs to be spooned on eggs or potatoes (or both in the form of a Spanish tortilla!). You can slather it on hot, crusty bread or stir it into some mayo for your next veggie burger. In today’s case, I’m going to dunk some empanadas in it. 

The recipe: Not my mama’s empanadas 

This empanada filling is a plant-based version of my mom’s signature recipe, which consists of a seasoned ground beef mixture (picadillo), sweet plantains, and Parmesan cheese. The filling is untraditional, but it’s still full of nostalgic flavors drawn from a Puerto Rican casserole called piñon. I recently tried a lentil-based picadillo, and it was so shockingly similar to the meaty versions I grew up eating that it inspired me to find a sustainable swap for my mama’s filling.

Instead of lentils, I’m using the newest version of Beyond Meat and simmering it in a homemade sofrito and spices. The rest is easy: Store-bought fried plantains get chopped up, and nutritional yeast brings the umami in place of Parmesan. I don’t love the prefab empanada disks, so I’m opting for frozen puff pastry for a flakier baked shell. Pepperidge Farm’s is totally plant-based, but I prefer Dufour brand when I can find it, because it doesn’t have any added sugar. To save even more time and make less of a mess, I buy frozen sweet plantains, like these from Goya. Since they are already fried, you can chop them up and add them right to the skillet. 

A pound of Beyond meat makes enough filling for a dozen empanadas—which is a perfect amount to start a freezer stash—so I’ve included instructions for freezing and reheating as well.

Empanada, mama? Credit: Gabriella Vigoreaux

‘Beef’ and Plantain Empanadas

Yield: 12 empanadas