Hot for Chile

by Ben Small

Ever been to Hatch, New Mexico?

I suspect you'll answer no. After all, how many people enjoy roaming around the New Mexico desert just a bit northwest of Las Cruces?

I'll respond, "Follow the fine chefs of the world September 4-5, for the annual Hatch Valley Chile Festival." They or their reps will all be there, scoping out the year's chile harvest. For Hatch, New Mexico is the chile capital of the world, has been for a very long time. Indeed, chiles have been a staple of the Americas' diet for over six thousand years.

Most folks associate chile peppers with heat, the kind that burns twice if you get my drift. But chiles don't have to burn their way through your digestive system. Remove the seeds and you'll find you're left with a glorious spice that's both healthy and tasty.

As many people know, legendary radio talk-show host Don Imus has prostrate cancer and has refused chemo or surgery. He's being treated holistically by his wife -- Deidre Imus founded a pediatric cancer institute -- and specialists from around the globe, and habanero peppers -- the hottest pepper by far -- are part of his daily regimen. Imus takes them in pill form, lest the steam pulsing into his microphone on a daily basis be blamed on organic heat.

There are 26 known species of chile pepper, five of which are domesticated.

Some facts you probably did not know about chiles:

• One fresh medium-sized green chile pod has as much Vitamin C as six oranges.
• One teaspoon of dried red chile powder has the daily requirements of Vitamin A.
• Hot chile peppers burn calories by triggering a thermodynamic burn in the body, which speeds up the metabolism.
• Teas & lozenges are made with chile peppers for the treatment of a sore throat.
• Capsaicinoids, the chemical that make chile peppers hot, are used in muscle patches for sore and aching muscles.
• Chile peppers are relatives of tomatoes, potatoes, and eggplants, all belonging to the nightshade family.
• The color extracted from very red chile pepper pods, oleoresin, is used in everything from lipstick to processed meats.
  

Famed Southwest chef Janos Wilder specializes in chile dishes. In addition to chiles stuffed with everything imaginable, Janos' chocolate jalapeño ice cream is to die for. The pleasant after-taste lingers for hours, and no cold wash cloths need be applied to the forehead. I've been to Janos' restaurants with friends who don't like spicy food, and none of them have rejected this desert after they've tasted it. Usually, they argue about who gets the last spoonful.


Most of us have had nachos somewhere. Just about every Mexican restaurant offers them as an appetizer or entrée selection. And usually, they're a bit boring. Not at one of Janos' restaurants. My wife won't eat nachos anywhere else. She orders Janos' version for her entrée, as do some of my friends. Me? While I love Janos' nachos and eat some of hers, I have yet to get past Janos' jerked pork entrée. Here's his menu description of it. Note the chile used.


THE ORIGINAL JERKED PORK

with cranberry habanero chutney, cilantro chili slaw, chorizo black beans, smoked poblano crema and flour tortillas - $15.50

Trust me, you've never had a better meal.

A couple years ago, my wife and I attended a chile cooking demonstration put on by Janos. We watched as he prepared and described several recipes, and we tasted the results. In addition, Janos gave us a history of the chile, which is how we found out about Hatch, New Mexico. Since then, we've visited Hatch several times. Janos takes the chile skin off prior to stuffing with a blow torch, believe it or not. Not much heat, just a few quick passes with the torch. The results are amazing. We attended with friends, and since then, all of us have experimented with chiles, preparing them either as appetizers or main courses. The dinner parties we've thrown where chiles were served were huge successes. 

Janos has written several chile cookbooks. In his The Great Chiles Rellenos Book, he offers more than seventy festive and tasty recipes. If you're looking for something healthy and different for dinner guests, try one of his creations. And you can experiment. Last night, my wife made us a concoction of her own,  a casserole featuring chiles. We've been talking about the meal ever since. Need I say there were no leftovers? 

Here's the recipe she used.

6- 8 poblano chiles (skinned, seeded and cut length wise)
 (or 2  4 oz cans of whole green chiles, or 8 oz or so of chopped green chiles)
1 lb ground beef or turkey
1 can no fat refried beans (we love the black refried beans)
1 cup chopped onion (more or less)
1 3/4 tsp cumin
1 1/2 tsp oregano
1/2 tsp garlic
salt and pepper
1 cup Monterey jack cheese (low fat)
1 cup cheddar (I use one low fat cheese and one regular)
1 cup low fat milk
1 cup no/low fat sour cream or yogurt
2 eggs
chopped green onions

Brown the ground beef and onions
Add the cumin, oregano,garlic, salt, pepper and refried beans and mix well
(It's easier to mix in the refried beans if you do heat them a bit with the meat)
Set aside

Line an 11" square baking pan with the peppers
Combine the 2 cheeses and spread over the peppers
Spread the meat mixture over the cheese
(Here you can add more layers- such as cheese. another layer of chiles etc. but you'll then have to adjust your cooking time somewhat)

Combine the flour and a bit of milk in a bowl and whisk into a paste
Slowly whisk in  the rest of the milk, sour cream and eggs
-plus a bit of salt and then the green onions

Pour over top of casserole
Bake at 350 for 40-60 minutes until center is somewhat firm
Let stand for 5 minutes or so
Garnish with (optional) red onions, chopped fresh cilantro, salsa
Serve with tortilla.

What's ironic about this is my wife claims she cannot cook. . 

I beg to differ. And so would Janos. His comment would be the same as mine: Wow!

Maybe I'll give him this recipe for his next book.

T'is the Season...

by Ben Small

L’il Ella, our granddaughter, has left, and the wife and I are bereft. Stuck for a few days (until I can return them) with all these toys. Wifey wants them out of the house, and my SUV is the only container large enough to hold them. It seems C batteries never wear out. So now while I’m driving around town, every time I hit a bump, I get the ABCs.

Nice tune, that. I’m singing it in my sleep.

We miss L’il Ella, and I’m sure she misses us. I don’t think she’d ever seen so many toys.

But with Ella gone, we now face the other side of the holidays: party season.

My wife calls me a humbug, but that’s not totally accurate. Lazy, yes, a humbug, not really. I just don’t get a big kick out of Christmas trees and decoration. People who decorate their houses like Chevy Chase in Christmas Vacation seem to me to be starved for attention. Why else have your house visible from Mars?

Plus, there’s all that work involved in lighting up your house. Manual labor, what I went to school for nineteen years to avoid. To do the job right, you gotta climb up on ladders, expose yourself to the elements, play with light bulbs that will work while you’re attending them, but then will shut down the whole system as soon as you descend. Back up the ladder, turn each bulb, discover which one is loose.

Oh joy to the world. Isn’t this fun?

And in a couple weeks, the lucky homeowner gets to do it all over again…

Okay, so I relented this year. Because of Ella. We got a tree. Not a real one, mind you. I don’t want sticky fingers, eczema breaking out all over my hands, pine needles dropping all over the floor, not to mention a fire hazard. And I don’t want to water the thing.

So we went to Costco, got a bunch of plastic and wire that resembles a tree. Easy to assemble, just stick in the pretend-branches and move ‘em around, and plug in the lights that came with it. Done. And dis-assembly is easy, too. Just unplug, fold up the branches, tie the thing off with plastic handcuffs, and throw it into a box in the garage.

So what else can I complain about? What else might lead me to murder?

Parties. The never-ending holiday party schedule.

Have you ever noticed how much fun the only sober person at a party has? Well, that’s me. I don’t drink much, maybe an occasional beer. I do have friends in Milwaukee I must honor, you know. Still, two beers is usually my limit, if I drink that much.

We went to a friend’s house the other night for their annual Christmas party. The wife is an interior designer, her husband the best Venetian plasterer and artistic house painter in town. Nice people.

You want to feel inadequate: go to a party at a designer’s house.

I do not know how these people did it, but they managed to buy and restore an old run-down Tucson mansion into a spectacular showpiece in just one year. Heck, I’ve been in my house for two years, and I still can’t find my socks.

Don’t these people sleep?

I asked the husband how this all came about. He said, “My wife wanted it done, so we busted our butts and spent every spare moment working on it.”

I wanted to choke him. “Do you know what a bad example you’re setting for our gender?” I said. “No Sunday football, no poker night, no shoot-‘em-up flicks? If your diligence becomes widely known, you’ll ruin things for every male in town. What’s worse, you had to throw a party and show it all off.”

He shrugged. “I’m scared of my wife.”

I saw my wife and a few other women, all sipping generous glasses of wine while the lady of the house was pointing out various appointments that helped make the house look like a Hollywood set for Spanish restoration and holiday perfection. I expected to see a microphone attached to her gown and HGTV cameras poking out from all corners.

My wife looked up and caught my eye. She waved her hand expansively and mouthed something like, “We can do this.”

My wife’s look and silent vow told me all I needed to know. My life was about to become a never-ending hell. I reached into my pocket for my little North American Arms Derringer. Five shots of .22 magnum. All I’d need was one…two if I decided to shoot the homeowner first. Hm… About that… Yeah, I owed a duty to every male in Tucson.

But the gun wasn’t there. I’d left it in the car. Arizona has a law: no guns where booze is served. Okay, so I found one benefit Connecticut has over Arizona: Booze and guns mix in Connecticut.

I broke away and ran to the buffet, where I elbowed my way into line and snarfed all the tamales, Mexican green stew, cheese, stuffed peppers and smoked salmon I could fit on my red plastic holiday plate. Someone bumped me, and one of my stuffed chiles flew off my plate and smacked a woman’s breast, leaving a cream cheese spot in the shape of California. She didn’t notice; she was too busy telling her husband how easy it would be to restore their house. The guy’s face was slack, his eyes locked in a far-away stare. Sweat beaded on his brow.

Shock and fear. I could have dumped a bucket of water on his wife’s head and he wouldn’t have noticed. Like me, this guy was seeing ladders, paint, tile, chisels, grouting, plaster, and window replacement in his future. S’long relaxation, s’long television, bye-bye newspaper, Sunday football and golf with the guys.

A new world order was coming, and this guy, like me, knew it.

At least, I thought, this would be the last one, the last party before Christmas. We could then wind down, eat a quiet turkey dinner, have a roaring fire in the hearth and watch a good movie after Christmas dinner. Ah… just the thought of it calmed me down.

And then the wife hit me with it, a by-product of all this holiday hoopla. No quiet Christmas dinner, no movie, a fireplace fire, maybe.

She’d invited six people to join us for Christmas dinner.

Where was that Derringer? I’d need three shots now.