Jalapeño Margarita

Last fall we had dinner one night at an On the Border restaurant in Mt. Laurel, New Jersey. I was thrilled to learn that they were celebrating the Hatch, New Mexico chile harvest by featuring Hatch green chile enchiladas as a special. My choice was made as soon as I saw that, and those enchiladas were as delicious as I’d hoped.

While I was at it, I indulged another whim and ordered a Jalapeño Margarita. The waiter warned me, “Those are seriously hot. Are you sure?”

This question gave me a little shiver as I recalled my experience with Great Balls of Fire, but I took a chance. Chips sat at the ready, and tiny sips of icy alcohol surely wouldn’t be that deadly.

“Bring it on. The hotter, the better.” Would I live to regret this? He gave me a thumbs up and went in search of my libation. I suppose some may consider it hot. I considered it flavorful.

Margaritas have been my favorite mixed drink since our California friend Harry Farrar began bringing the makings when he arrived to stay in our home for a week or more each visit in the early 1970s. Harry’s classic recipe spoiled me, and I tend to avoid trendy variations on the rare occasions I enjoy them, but jalapeño – definitely worth a try. Worth a try once. That nectar cost more than the rest of my dinner, but less than a bottle of Jose Cuervo. No wonder it had no price on the menu (if you have to ask …).

I did enjoy it, and I’m glad I ordered it, and of course I came home and tried making my own. Sure enough, recipes abound, but as you know if you’ve read Adventures of a Chilehead, I’m not much for following recipes, so I tried a couple of mashup versions. Here’s the approach I like best:

Capsaicia’s Jalapeño Margarita
Makes one pitcher

1 fresh jalapeño  2 cups tequila 1 cup orange liqueur 1 cup fresh lime juice (about 10 limes) – bottled will work, but fresh is best 2 tablespoons agave syrup 2 tablespoons salt

Preliminaries: Chop up jalapeño. Remove seeds and veins if you wish, or leave them in for extra heat. Add tequila to jar, seal tightly, and steep at room temperature for up to three days. If you’re in a hurry (who plans three days ahead?), add an extra jalapeño and a little extra tequila and taste after 30 minutes. Or use a blender.

Preparation: Strain tequila into pitcher, leaving jalapeño pulp behind. Stir in Cointreau, lime juice and simple syrup. Store in refrigerator until ready to serve

To Serve: Place salt in large jar lid. Moisten rims of glasses with a fingertip dipped into mixed margarita. Rub moistened rim in salt. Fill glasses with crushed ice and add mixed margarita. Garnish with lime wedges or jalapeño rounds.

Variations: I like this better without the sugar. Mixing a little chile with the rim salt is a decorative and tasty touch. Float extra jalapeño rounds on surface for pizazz. Try Hatch or another green chile instead of jalapeño. Add a sprig of fresh cilantro.

For tender mouthed guests, use plain tequila, adding a small amount of the spicy stuff for excitement.

Excellent with guacamole (see book for recipe) and chips.

Salud!

Chicken Enchiladas

This year we have leftover chicken rather than leftover turkey. That’s partly due to the fact that I was recovering from pneumonia and didn’t have the stamina to cook anything more elaborate than canned soup for Thanksgiving. But there’s more to it than that. We are an anomaly in the Pittsburgh region. We have no local family in a region where everyone has at least a few family members in the area. Gathering the clan for holiday feasts may be one of the most sacred events on their calendars. In most cases, virtual barbed wire and broken glass keeps friends safely outside the sacred family circle for these ritualistic feasts.

That pretty much leaves us loners out in the cold without turkey in our diet, because even a 14 pound turkey is way too big for two people to eat alone. I find that seriously baffling, having grown up and lived out west until I was forty. We always had at least a few friends join our family gatherings. What is the problem around here?

Can you tell that this topic has me hot as a jalapeño? A mild one, anyway. But this blog is about chile, not local customs. Anyway, to compensate for feast deprivation, I roasted a large chicken a few days ago, though the trimmings fell by the wayside this year. Roasted chickens are the next best thing to turkey. So now we’re down to the scrappy meat as resource material for a final two or three rounds of leftovers.

Tonight the choice was Chicken Enchiladas. I included my recipe for Chicken Enchiladas in Adventures of a Chilehead, but these are a little different. Still feeling a big on the lazy side, I decided to stack them rather than rolling. That’s a first. It worked so well, I’ll switch for good, unless I have a crowd to feed.

As with all recipes in the book, this one is an approximation for two people:

About 1 cup finely chopped dark chicken meat. About 3/4 cup finely chopped onion. About 5 oz grated Monterey Jack cheese (I used Pepper Jack because that's      what I had) About 1 1/2 cup left-over chicken gravy (Cream of Chicken soup is as good or      better) 1 can chopped green chile (I prefer Trader Joe's Hatch variety.) Five or six tortillas (two is enough for me, most men want three) About 1/2 cup vegetable oil for softening tortillas

Fry tortillas just to soften, as described in the book. Scatter chicken, onion and cheese over surface of tortilla. Cover with sauce. Add another tortilla. Repeat as above. Place in 350˚ oven for five or ten minutes to heat through and soften cheese. Handle plates with hot pads, and use mats under hot plates to protect table top.

Serve with frijoles (see recipe in book), and tomato/lettuce salad. Beer is our preferred beverage with this meal.

Enjoy!

Meeting Capsaicia

Strange things happen to writers. Who knew that the act of writing a memoir could invoke new experiences and memories that would become part of the memoir? Until I began writing the first chapter, Unlocking the Chilehead Code, I knew nothing of the Goddess Capsaicia. Then I began writing about the suspicions I’ve heard that chileheads belong to some cult. I know nothing of such a cult, but as I imagined what it might be like, this goddess emerged from the mists of archetypal memory (or something like that) and introduced herself. This didn’t happen all at once, and she’s never spoken that I’m aware of. She remains a remotely shimmering image.

As you’ll read in the book, talking about Capsaicia to others generates odd conversations and strange discoveries. I had no idea one friend is a shaman. The shamans’ code requires that identity be kept secret unless the shaman choses to personally divulge it. This shaman friend conjured up a vision of Capsaicia that simply took my breath away. How could I not include that in the book?

Which has led to interesting chats with memoir writing pals about what belongs in memoir – should it be limited to old memories that we dredge up and process, or can it be a work in progress, written on the spot? The only rules for memoir are that it be as valid and true as we can make it. We’re supposed to stick to facts and report events and experiences as accurately as we can, through the lens of our perceptions and memories.

So, meeting Capsaicia and getting to know this mythical entity is a legitimate adventure, though I’ll leave it to you to determine what kind. The shaman’s input was real. So were my conclusions at the end of the book.

I invite you to read and judge for yourself. In my opinion, Capsaicia is lots of fun. I’d like to know her better. Based on the experience in the super market that I relate at the end of the book, I’m sure I shall. I’ll keep you posted.

BTW, if anyone’s good at doodling and feels inspired to capture her likeness, I’d be honored to showcase your artwork. Please leave a comment with your thoughts about her. Has you glimpsed her in your distance?

Chili or Chile?

“Everyone” knows that Chile is a country, and chili is a food we eat. Everyone except New Mexicans and people who follow the Los Angeles Times style manual that is. Or so it seems. I explain this distinction is detail in Adventures of a Chilehead. After all, I don’t want people reading the entire book while thinking my spellcheck is broken or turned off.

Click over to “Chile or Chile? Check It Out” to read the rest of this story.