Now, the vowels. Oh, the vowels. They’re like that friend who says they’ll pay for dinner but then “forgets” their wallet. The first “e” is short and unassuming, like the “e” in envelope. The second “i” is the star of the show—it’s a long, proud “ee” sound, as if it just won a spelling bee. Don’t you dare turn it into a short “ih” like in “itch.” That would be a crime against salsa.
Here’s a surprising fact: “enchilada” is actually a Spanish word meaning “to season with chili.” But in English, we’ve taken it hostage and forced it to obey our spelling rules. The result? A word that looks like it’s trying to hide in your Alphabet Soup. The classic typo is “enchilada” with an extra “l” (enchillada) or a missing “d” (enchilaa—no, just no).
The Tale of the Silent Letters (There Are None)
You might be tempted to throw in a silent “h” because it looks fancy, like in “chihuahua.” Resist that urge. There is no silent letter in “enchilada.” Every letter earns its keep. The “d” is proud. The “l” is loud. And the final “a”? It’s the grand finale, pronounced like the “ah” you say when you bite into a perfect, gooey bite. If you add a silent letter, the ghost of your great-aunt will haunt your kitchen with cold, unseasoned beans.
Let’s talk about the plural. Enchiladas. Just add an “s.” It’s not “enchiladii” like some Latin noun from a toga party. And for the love of queso, do not spell it “enchilada’s” with an apostrophe. That means “belonging to one enchilada,” and that’s just possessive nonsense. You’ll sound like you own a single enchilada and are very protective of it.
Enchilada | Description, Ingredients, & History | Britannica
I once saw a menu that listed “Enchelada” on it. I almost called the police. That’s not a dish; that’s a tragic misspelling of a dream. If you see that, run. Or better yet, order it anyway and laugh when they bring you a plate of alphabet soup with regret.
