Tuesday, April 1, 2014

In spite of my confidence in the kitchen, there are some things that really intimidate me as a cook. One is butchering an animal. That is a challenge for some future date.  A couple of other things were New Mexican style red chile sauce and chile rellenos. 

I have read all kinds of recipes for red chile sauce.  Many start with a rue and use some sort of broth for the liquid.  I have seen recipes that call for using a package of white gravy mix.  Maybe it was just all of the different things I had read, but my head swam every time I thought of trying to make it.

I absolutely love chile rellenos!  I could eat my way across the Southwest trying all of the different versions of this dish.  I did try one time to make some and was not at all pleased with the results.  I have since been content with satisfying my craving at restaurants.  Many times, they are less than spectacular and often they are downright terrible.

When Paula and I began planning our recent trip to Santa Fe, I was determined to de-mystify the red chile sauce and conquer the chile relleno.  From Tucumcari Westward, I tried green and red chile sauce at every meal. The red sauce varied in texture, color and intensity.  It was all delicious.  I was anxious to explore the Farmer’s Market in Santa Fe hoping to find some clues to the perfect red sauce.

The Farmer’s Market is in the Rail Yard district.  It is an area rich in history and culture and for me, rivals the downtown area as the place to visit while in Santa Fe.  After an early breakfast, we arrived at the market greeted with all of the sights and aromas you might expect. The smell of fresh baked bread and pastries gave way to the sweet and pungent fragrances of herbs and homemade soaps as I strolled up one long aisle and down the next.

I was drawn to a particular booth that had baskets of red chile powder packaged in simple ziplock bags labeled with their level of heat.  She also had varieties of heirloom beans originating in the New Mexico area, pasole and chicos, a smoked and dried sweet corn. She had an obvious pride in her product that made me want to try everything.  She explained to me that she and her husband grew all of the product and processed it as well.  She beamed as she showed me a photograph of her husband standing beside their clay oven used for smoking peppers and corn.

I found myself asking her all kinds of questions, particularly about the red chile powder.  I told her of the many recipes I had read and that I was confused as to where to start to make this sauce.  She reached out to touch my arm and shook her head.  “It’s so simple” she said. “Just add water and maybe a little salt.  Remember, it’s a dehydrated vegetable.” Well, that just floored me.  With that statement, she explained what all these recipes had not.  I was thinking of the red chile powder as a spice, not a vegetable. I couldn’t wait to get home and try this.  I knew it was going to work.

Later that evening, on the recommendation of a friend of ours, we tried a restaurant in the Tesuque Village.  There I had the most beautiful chile relleno I have ever had. Here’s the thing, it was not battered, it was not fried. The poblano pepper was lightly charred, relieved of its seeds and filled with yellow squash, mushrooms and toasted pine nuts.  The finished pepper rested on a pool of red chile sauce and was topped with a smattering of white cheese.  Beautiful, simple and delicious!

After arriving home, I thought of the red sauce all week.  On Friday, I made the sauce.  In a small sauce pan, I put the powder, some water and a little bit of salt.  I heated it to a boil then turned in down to simmer and thicken.  When it was the consistency I wanted, I covered it and put it in the refrigerator until the next day. Saturday turned out to be a cool rainy day.  I sat on our porch watching the steam rise from my hot mug of coffee. I had put red sauce on the stove to heat.  I was making cheese enchiladas and chile rellenos for dinner.  I had already roasted the poblanos on top of our gas stove and they were waiting in a covered bowl to be seeded.

As I sat there drinking my coffee, enjoying being home and breathing in the aromas wafting out of my kitchen I was reminded of our wonderful time in Santa Fe and my life with Paula.  We don’t have a glamorous life. Our life is full of friends, our fur kids and each other.  I spent most of my youth chasing after who I thought I was supposed to be, what I thought I was supposed to do.  It all seemed so complicated back then.
This trip to Santa Fe had been the best.  No fancy hotel or fancy dinners.  Just time with my love, laughing, being quiet, being silly, talking. Just time doing whatever we wanted to do. It was so simple. Something has clicked for me. Life really isn’t so complicated.

 I went into the house to finish dinner.  I sautéed the squash with some onion and mushrooms and stuffed the peppers and full and I could.  I topped them with the toasted pine nuts and some white cheddar cheese, then put them in a hot oven just long enough to melt the cheese. I placed the pepper in the midst of the pooled sauce I had already spooned onto my plate.  So beautiful, so simple. 

My life is good.  All I really need is some water and a little bit of salt.

4 comments:

  1. I'm crying here! Oh, Pam, I'm so grateful you returned to your blog to share your passion, your self. Thank you, friend.

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    1. Thanks Scott, you are such an inspiration!

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  2. I too, enjoy your writing, and your sincere insight about life and cooking. Still want to have coffee one of these days......

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  3. Susan, Thanks, and for sure coffee!

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