Not Afraid of a Mean Little Chile, Are You?

I never thought in the history of this blog that I would be stringing together the words "mild" and "chile" in the same sentence. And, no, I am not referring to some wimpy green bellpepper. I mean jalapeños, baby, and maybe habaneros or serranos, or any kind of chile that you speak of in hushed tones with a trace of trembling fear in some backroom with the lights on. You can and will conquer these chiles with a little help of Mexican crema, a tangy sauce that is closer to crème fraîche than to sour cream. It is the sauce that gives that cool creamy edge to Baja-style fish tacos and enchiladas and other dishes that call for a touch of dairy. No wonder my gatita viejita, who usually abhors chiles, is fascinated with this dish! . . . (You don't need to tell me--as there is nothing as pathetic or as annoying or as interesting, depending on your point of view, as a woman who goes on and on about her cat, I will stop right here. WHAT--you were expecting a pitbull or a chihuahua??)

Perhaps it is an exaggeration to say that crema will completely douse the fire of a hot chile, but instead of crying and calling for the paramedics, you will be making so many yummy sounds that everybody will tell you to shut up. For once, chiles con crema will help you to fully enjoy the chile flavors you were missing out on as you were busy jumping up and down from the pain: the sweetness, the spicy yumminess, the cool-hot-mildness of chiles and crema together. Plus it will help you get people like my friend, Marta, from whom I adapted this recipe.

Marta is not just a fabulous cook, she is just plain fabulosa—someone I would be intensely jealous of if she wasn't so kind and loveable. I envy her perfect teeth, the way her hair shines auburn in the sunlight, how she makes people giddy and smiling like fools, myself included, when she gives them un fuerte abrazo—a big fat hug—and says, "Hi, honeeeeey! ¿Cómo estás?" But mostly, it's her fearlessness, at least where chiles are concerned, that I envy the most. And, how that beautiful fire-eating dragon regularly takes some habanero chiles in her perfectly manicured hand and pops them in her mouth like they were little orange apples. Her salsas are so powerful that, seriously, I believe that her tongue and taste buds have been reduced to scorched earth. I am a bit of a fire breather myself, but there is no way I can compete with Marta. Actually, nobody can compete with Marta.

Until now.

Seeing that I have no desire to torch my treasured little taste buds, I doubt that I will ever be as fabulosa as Marta. But, if eating a fierce chile with crema will miraculously make me as sweet as mi amiga, you can rest assured that I'll gobble up some habaneros with crema and will be loving every minute of it.

Chile Strips With Mexican Crema
Rajas de chiles con crema
The best way to try this dish is with some poblano chiles, mild but bursting with flavor, and some jalapeños. Although I prefer to roast my chiles in order to remove the outer skin, you can omit this step if you want. Adding some sweet onion as you are frying the chiles only makes it all the more delicious. This is so easy to make that you really don't need a recipe. Feel free to experiment with any fresh chile you have on hand, such as Anahiem, Poblano, Jalapeño,etc., depending how hot or mild you want it to be. Serve this with almost any Mexican dish, or in a taco. If you want to kick it up a notch, add a touch of hot red salsa to any mild version of this recipe before taking a bite. If you cannot find crema mexicana, no problem. Sour cream is good enough in a pinch. I like my dish super thick and tangy, so I used El Mexicano's "Crema Superior", a thick acidified sour cream instead. Any of the different varieties of Mexican crema will do. If you need to reheat this dish but the sauce has become too thick for your liking, you can always add a little bit of pourable crema or milk to thin it down a bit.

To learn more about chiles, click here.

To learn more about roasting chiles, click here.

Ingredients:

About 6 poblano chiles, or any chile you prefer

4 jalapeño chiles (optional)

About 1 tablespoon of vegetable oil

About 1 tablespoon butter

About 1/3 onion, sliced into strips (optional)

One jar of Mexican Crema (about 15 fl. oz); or the equivelent of sour cream or crème fraîche

Salt to taste

Directions:To lightly roast the chiles, bring a large pot of water to a rolling boil. Put the chiles in the pot, and parboil the poblanos for about 6 minutes. (Only about 4 or 5 minutes in the boiling water for the jalapeños). Remove the chiles from the pot and place them on a platter.

Using a pair of metal tongs, take each chile and hold it over the flame of a gas burner of your stove. You will see the skin of the chiles burst almost instantly. Do the same for the jalapeños. Quickly place each chile as you are done roasting it and place it in a plastic bag, but covered very loosely. You do not want your Poblano chile to be overly cooked and soggy.
When the chiles cool somewhat, use the back edge of a knife to scrape of the charred outer skin of each chile (see picture, above). Cut the chiles open lengthwise, and remove the seeds and stem. Do the same for the jalapenos. Now slice the chiles in long strips for the poblanos, crosswise for the jalapeños. If you like, you can slice up some onion into long strips, too.
Over medium-low heat, melt the vegetable oil and the butter together in a medium sized saucepan. Add the chiles and the onion. When the chile and onion are soft and its aroma fills the kitchen, lower the heat and add the crema to taste. (You can always use the leftover crema for something else). Once the crema is just hot, remove from the heat and season with salt to taste. Pour into a large bowl and serve right away.

Serves about 6 people.

Now you can eat chiles without fear.

Moustaches

It might come as news to the 4 or 5 Mexican guys who read this blog, but us chicas want to let you in on a little secret: We know you love your bigotes—moustaches—but if truth be told, for some of us, being kissed by a man with a moustache feels like being kissed by a cactus . . . or a scrub brush . . . or the edge of a broom.

I should know. My viejo, who I once believed was free from such hirsute vanity, is now growing a moustache almost the size of Emiliano Zapata's. And my upper lip hasn't felt the same since.

I know that sporting a moustache is a proud Mexican tradition. Most of us have never even known our fathers without one. The only time my papá ever went without a moustache was when, as a young man, he found himself looking for work in Butte, Montana in the early '50's. It appears that some of the town's children were fascinated by him, following him around because it was the first time they had ever beheld a Mexican. That is until it got so cold that his moustache literally broke off.

Then the fascination came to an abrupt end.

What soup can you cook for a man with a monumental moustache? A dry soup, una sopa seca de fideos that won't get his moustache all wet. The kind of soup whose angel hair like pasta swims in a pool of orange-colored roasted tomato flavored broth, tinged with a touch of oregano, cumin, garlic and onions. The broth is cooked down until only the fine fideo pasta remains. No watery broth to drench his finely trimmed Handle Bar or Pancho Villa.

Just throw in some sliced calabacitas—zucchini—or any other vegetable, or any left over cooked chicken into the pot, and you have a substantial side-dish or a light meal. It's just right if you are bored with Spanish rice. What can be easier (and cheap)?

I have informed my viejo that his moustache makes him look like some corrupt politico, but he laughs, replying thank you for the compliment, and how about letting your own Frida Kahlo moustache grow and so we will be even? So far his entreaty has fallen on deaf ears. Ha—¡chistoso! Funny, funny man.

Okay, I must admit that the moustache does make my viejo look attractive, virile and muy macho (in a very good way). Somehow those choppers of his seem to glisten against the silver/blackness his upper lip.

But if he wants a soupy sopa de fideo he's gotta lose el bigote. Or, perhaps not. He's fine just the way he is.

"Dry Fideo Soup"

Sopa de fideos This pasta soup is mistake proof, and this recipe is just a guide. It can be as "dry" or as "wet" as you want. If it comes out too watery for you, just boil it down to the consistency you like. Besides, the fideos will continue to soak up the moisture until they are "dry". Children love this soup, especial if you use star or alphabet pasta instead of coiled or cut fideos. My little niece goes nuts when you top the "dry" soup with Oaxacan or mozzarella cheese. Feel free to double the recipe if you want. Why the whole chile in the soup? It won't add any spiciness. But whoever ends up with the chile has to eat it!

Ingredients:

2 cups crumbled coiled or cut fideos. Substitute cut-up angel hair pasta.
2 medium sized cut-up red juicy tomatoes (about 1 cup); OR, one 8-ounce can of tomato sauce.

½ cup diced white onion
1 clove peeled garlic
½ to ¼ teaspoon powdered cumin, or to taste
a good pinch of oregano
2 ¼ cups of hot chicken broth for "dry" soup, about 5 cups for "wet soup"
1 tablespoon vegetable oil of your choice

1 thin-sliced zucchini; or, any vegetable you have lying around (optional)
left-over cooked chicken pieces (optional)
1 small whole dried chile (optional)

Directions:

Purée the tomatoes or the tomato sauce and the garlic clove in a blender. (If your kids don't like onions, purée them, too.) Set aside.

Take an absolutely clean skillet or a pot and heat on the stove until it is hot. Add the vegetable oil and continue to heat until it is hot, too. (Doing this prevents the fideos from sticking to the pot.)
Lower the heat to medium-low and add the fideos, the diced onion (if you like them in your soup) and the dried chile. Continue frying them and stirring them until the fideo turns golden brown. Add the powdered cumin and fry it for just a minute—no longer.

Add the tomato mixture, roasting them over medium heat until the moisture is gone, and the bottom is slightly burned. (See picture)
Quickly pour in the chicken broth, and stand back! Now is the time to add the sliced zucchini and the chicken pieces. Adjust seasonings to your taste, bring the soup to a boil, and cover with a lid. Lower the heat to a simmer for about 13 minutes.

Do not open the lid. The zucchini slices will continue to "cook" in the hot pot until they are tender. If the soup is a little dry for your taste, just add a little bit of chicken broth and reheat.

Eat the chile.

Serves a family of four.

Never Judge a Nopal By Its Stingers

I have a confession to make. I want something so badly that I'm willing to steal it.

I'm going to take my long sharp knife and risk life and limb to get me some, even if it means jumping the wall into Doña Hortencia's backyard and facing down Diablito, that psychopath ankle-snapping chihuahua of hers. Just to get my hands on those fresh and tender nopalitos—the flat paddle-shaped pads of the prickly pear cactus (how's that for a bit of alliteration?). And for any of you who think that I'm one tortilla short of a stack for wanting to commit such a foolish and criminal act, all I have to say is that only a Mexican who doesn't have a cactus of her own knows how I feel.
Some of my friends smile at me indulgently with the kind of a look that they usually reserve for little children or people who are loco en la cabeza whenever I mention nopales. Why eat anything as prickly and as slimy and just plain dangerous, they ask? Poor souls, if they only knew. For lurking beneath its nasty agüates (stingers) and forbidding exterior lies the tender heart of a saint. If you like the fresh taste of farm fresh green beans and asparagus with a hint of lemon, then you are on your way to loving nopales in just about anything Mexican: With your scrambled eggs with pinto beans and a homemade tortilla for breakfast. In salads. In tacos. In the Mexican classic, Dried Shrimp Paddies with Molé Sauce, a favorite of mine. And, if that weren't enough, nopales just might lower blood sugar levels (listen up, my diabetic friends). If you are concerned about its okra-like baba (slime), well, it doesn't have to be if you cook it right. Give it a try, and you will find that even unattractive things have a beauty beyond just mere appearance.
I looked over into Doña Hortencia's backyard today. That was all it took for the aptly named Diablito to come charging, bearing his canines and bursting my ear drums with his mad incessant yapping, jumping up and down, frantically trying to bite off my fingers. Somehow, my heart failed me just then. I did not relish the prospect of turning into a fur-lined maniac's taco. So I knocked on Doña Hortencia's door instead and pleaded with her in the most pathetic tones for some nopalitos. There was a trace of amusement in those old brown eyes of hers. She must have seen me peeking into her backyard.
She hesitated for a moment and then replied:"¡Pues, claro qué sí!—Why, of course you can!"
What ever possessed me to think I could steal some nopales from such a nice viejita?
Tomorrow afternoon I'm bringing my big long knife and I'm going to lop off some nopalitos, some for me and some for Doña Hortencia .

Boiled or Sauteed Nopalitos, Salad Included.You can buy nopales at the supermarket pre-chopped and stripped of their stingers, but I find that the ones that are fresh off the cactus tastes best. Each cactus pad should be no more that 8 inches in length (about the size of your hand), and exhibit a fresh green color. It should never look shriveled or tough. This is not a recipe per se, but a guide to making as much or as little as you like. Depending on the recipe or your preference, you can boil or sauté them until they are perfect.


First step:
Wear a pair of gloves and trim off the outer edge of the nopales. Then using the sharp edge of the knife, scrape off all of the stingers. Cut about an inch off the lower end of nopal. Rinse the nopales under cold running water and closely examine them, making sure that there are absolutely no stingers left.

To Boil:

Bring some water to a boil in a large pot or pan with about half an onion, one or two smashed garlic cloves, and salt to taste. Put the whole cactus pads in the boiling water. Lower heat to medium and boil the nopales for about 15 minutes or so, or until they are easily pierced with a fork. You can pre-chop the nopales if you wish, but I think that boiling them whole preserves more of the flavor.


Drain the nopales into a colander; cover them with a damp cloth, and let them sit for about half an hour or so while any excess moisture drains into a bowl.

Using a sharp knife, dice or slice the nopales according to your taste. You can now scramble them with your eggs for a new take on breakfast.
Here's a simple but utterly delicious recipe for NOPALES SALAD:
Mix the boiled nopales with fresh chopped tomatoes, sliced green onion, fresh minced jalapeño and chopped cilantro. Just add some quality bottled red wine Italian salad dressing or your own homemade vinaigrette. (See picture at the top). Add some queso fresco and eat it with anything Mexican (except dessert!).
Sautéed:On a hot skillet add 1 tablespoon olive oil, 4 cups diced or sliced fresh nopales, 2 cups white onion, 2 cloves garlic, minced, any finely chopped fresh chile (optional) and garlic salt to taste. Over medium heat, continue sautéing until the slime completely evaporates and the nopales are slightly charred and the onion is sweet and golden brown. Remove the nopal mixture from the heat and add finely chopped cilantro to taste. Add a corn or flour tortilla and a bit of salsa and you have the perfect vegetarian taco.

In Your Neighborhood

Maryann, that sweet and fabulous home cook from Finding La Dolce Vita, has pointed out to me that it's hard to find authentic Mexican cheese in the Hudson River Valley, New York, where she lives. She might have a point, though it probably won't be that way for long. If you look closely enough, Mexicans are now found almost everywhere in America—even in Manhattan, where some of my peeps are busy cooking up a little boeuf bourguignon in the kitchens of those fancy French restaurants (you really didn't think that celebrity chef Anthony Bourdain does all that cooking by himself, now did you? By his own admission, he's too busy helping himself to barbequed goat in Puebla, Mexico.) And look out my friends who hail from the South East and the Midwest—I am happy to inform you that your cultural and culinary world just got a little more delicious, because these warm, hardworking people are moving to your towns, too! (Don't be alarmed—you'll be just fine.)

So, if you see someone who looks a lot like me walking around your neighborhood, just stop her and say hello. If you don't speak Spanish just repeat this ultra-simple phrase, "DOHN-deh "Eye" KEH'-soh Meh-hee-CAHN-noh?"—"Where do you find Mexican cheese?" (Don't worry about sounding ridiculous. How in the world are you going to learn to speak Spanish otherwise?) Once she realizes that you mean no harm, but are an actual fan of her native cuisine, she will reward you with a friendly smile and will happily point you in the direction of the nearest Mexican cheese. Who knows? You two just might hit off, and the next thing you know, you are invited over for lunch. Woo-hoo!
Once you are inside her aromatic kitchen, she might serve you a rich complex molé, or a carne asada taco in a fresh homemade corn tortilla—or she might serve you this simple little dish of sautéed zucchini with fresh tomatoes and chili peppers—"comida de casa"—comfort food of the highest order that you probably will never see on the menu of a Mexican restuarant. What can be more satisfying and healthful than some warm vegetables, especially on a cold winter's day? Isn't amazing how something that you put together almost as an afterthought can taste so good? You can use just about any vegetable you might have lying around in your refrigerator. Well, perhaps not just any vegetable come to think of it. Turnips or rutabagas would not do at all. I don't have anything against them really, it's just that I don't think they go well with tomatoes and chilies—it's sort of like listening to actor Sean Connery singing a Mexican song in his Scottish burr, if you can only imagine--well, let's not. But zucchinis—or calabacitas—"little squashes", sautéed in a bit of corn oil together with garlic and chopped white onion and bits of your favorite fresh chili pepper, now that's la combinación perfecta. Now throw in some juicy chopped tomatoes, or even your favorite red salsa into the mix, and cooking it until the calabacitas are tender. Then, just before you bring the bowl to the table, put some grated Oaxaca cheese in it. Watch as it melts over the tomato-y little goodness.

My favorite way of eating this simple homey little dish is when I have it the next morning with my fried eggs and pinto beans. Not your typical breakfast, it's true, but if your Mexican friend cooks this up for you, then you're more than just a friend—you're familia.

Calabacitas (Zucchinis) With Chile and Tomato

You can make as much or as little as you want of this comforting dish. Remember, measurements need not be precise, so feel free to improve with this fool-proof recipe. Sliced fresh Poblano chili peppers are traditional, but using any other chili pepper is fine. For this dish I used an Anahiem chili, which is a great introduction for chili boot camp.

What you need:

Any skillet or pot with a well-fitting lid, whether large or small, depending on how much of this recipe you are cooking

Cooking utensils such as chopping knife, cutting board and large spoon

Ingredients:

1 or 2 tablespoons corn oil, or more, depending on how much of this recipe you are making

Fresh zucchini—1 or 2 for a small amount, 3 or 4 for a medium amount, 5 or more for a large amount, chopped or sliced any way you like

Chopped white onions—about 1 small onion, or more depending on your taste

1 or 2 cloves minced garlic, or more, if you like

1 or more chili peppers, sliced cross-wise, or cut into long strips. Remove the seeds.

3 or more juicy tomatoes, finely chopped; OR, your favorite red salsa, preferably homemade, but who's looking?

Pinch of oregano to taste
About one heaping tablespoon, or more, chopped fresh cilantro

Salt and pepper to taste

Grated Oaxaca cheese (preferred), or Jack or mozzarella cheese

First of all, make sure that you have enough salsa or chopped tomatoes for this recipe. If your tomatoes are not juicy enough, it is perfectly acceptable to add a little tomato sauce. This recipe is meant to be moist, but not watery.

Over medium heat, sauté onion, chopped or sliced chili peppers, and zucchini and in oil until the onion is just golden. Lower heat to medium-low and add minced garlic. Continue sautéing until the onion is a nice golden brown.

Next, add the oregano, cilantro, the diced tomatoes and/or the salsa. Lower heat to low and cover and continue cooking until the tomatoes and/or salsa "melt" and blend with the rest of the ingredients and the zucchini is nice and tender. (Note: If the dish is too watery, cook uncovered for a few minutes until it is as moist or as "dry" as you like.) Add salt and pepper to taste. Top with grated Oaxaca cheese, or mozzarella or Jack.

Variation: Take some corn kernels that are either fresh, or some frozen corn that has been thawed, and add them when you add the zucchini. You can also add a little chopped cabbage, too, if you want.

Tastes oh-so-good the next day.