The Big Heat

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k magine the hunter-gatherer in South America 8,000 , years ago who had the cojones to be the first man to chomp into a diili pepper. As the capsaianoids bound to the pain receptors in his mouth, he probably shouted, ' "Damn, that's hot!" llien when the endorphins kicked f in he no doubt thought, Mmm, gonna have another! Before Columbus, cliili peppers were unknown outside ' le New World, but it wasn't long before peripatetic European •aders introduced them to the Philippines, Southeast Asia, ^hina and India and made them integral to world cuisine.

Their aphrodisiac qualities are debatable; what's not is their sensuality. Like sex, it's all about the balance between pleasure and pain. Some cultures today regard the fruit of the genus Capsicum as mystical, something from the gods.

Over the years my cliili lust has taken me throughout Latin America, from Chihuahua, Mexico to Santiago, Chile, and I've taken every opportunity to sample chili-infused dishes—from Peruvian ceviche with Andean aji peppers to intense Brazil­ian nwqueca (seafood stew) witli habaneros and nuihgiietas to the seven moles of Oaxaca in Mexico. I once caused a plane

to be evacuated because I had brought a bag of freshly roasted chilies in my carry-on. The intense aroma got into the ventilation system. Airport security was not amused.

In 1996 I moved to New Mexico to live in permanent proximity to the chili fields. After all, this is the only state with an offi­cial question: Red or green? (Hint: If asked in a New Mexico restaurant and you can't decide, say "Christmas" and you'll get both.) I began a relentless quest for the best came adovada (Horseman's Haven Cafe, tucked away next to a gas station on the south side of Santa Fe, does a great pork rib adovada). I experimented with chili varieties from all over the state. The best recipes turned out to be the most traditional. I got my green chili stew recipe from a gregarious grand­mother I met in the checkout line at a Santa Fe supermarket.

It was on my first visit to Oaxaca during the Day of the Dead celebrations—which occur this month throughout Latin America—

that I first tasted an authentic mole negro. I was hanging around Oaxaca city's central market, sampling liberally from the mes­cal dealers. Looking for something to soak up the agave juice, I found a stall with bins of chilies stacked to the ceiling. Gripped by chili mania, I had the clerk bag up handfuls of small, smoky chipotles, wrinkled negros, blackish-green anchos, fiery thin-skinned rojas and half a dozen others whose names didn't penetrate my mescal fog.

An old woman at one of the cooking stalls asked what I was planning to do with all the chilies. I shrugged: Cook 'em. She laughed, a drunk gringo always being a source of amuse­ment. She had me sit at her counter wliile she dished up samples of moles. I recall a deep rich coluradito and an eye-watering mancha mantel.es (literally "tablecloth stainer"), but none matched the complexity of her mole negro. It had hints of nuts, North African spices, chocolate and several kinds of chilies.

"How many?" I asked.

"Six," she said and counted them on her fingers: cliihuacle negro, mulatto, pasilla, ancho, guajilh and chipotJe.

"Teach me to make mole negro," I begged.

She laughed harder than the first time. "It would take a lifetime."

"So?" I asked. "When do we start?"

v Green Chili Stew

IVdbs. pork butt, cut into 1-inch cubes

3 tbsp. vegetable oil

1 large yellow onion, diced

4-6 cloves garlic, minced

2 tbsp. dried oregano

1V2 lbs. peeled Yukon Gold potatoes,

cut into 1-inch cubes

6 cups chicken stock

3 cups chopped New Mexican

green chilies, NuMex Big Jim

or NuMex No. 6-4

Salt to taste 1 bunch cilantro, coarsely chopped

Brown pork in the oil in a large stock-pot. Remove meat, then saute the onion, garlic and oregano until onion is translucent. Return meat along with potatoes and stock. Bring to a boil, then simmer 45 minutes or until pota­toes are tender. Add the chilies and salt and cook for 15 to 20 minutes more. Ladle into bowls, sprinkle with cilantro and serve with warm flour tortillas.

Carne Adovada

2 dozen New Mexican dried red

chili pods

6 cups beef stock

6 cloves garlic, minced

V2 yellow onion, minced

2 tsp. ground cumin

4 tbsp. olive or vegetable oil

4 lbs. pork shoulder, cut into 2-inch

pieces

Salt to taste

4 oz. unsweetened chocolate (optional), grated

Remove stems, seeds and veins from chilies. Toast in pan over medium heat, but do not burn. In a pot, heat stock and add chilies. Simmer 20 minutes. Saute garlic, onion and cumin in two tablespoons of oil and add to stock. Let cool. Brown meat in remaining oil. When stock is cool, blend a cup at a time until all is blended; work the sauce through a sieve or food mill. Combine all ingredients in a large Dutch oven. Add salt and chocolate if desired, and mix ingredients. Bake at 300 degrees for two hours or until pork easily shreds. Serve with warm flour tortillas.

Mole Negro

2 large beefsteak tomatoes

V% yellow onion, skin on

4 doves garlic, skins on, crushed

4 cups chicken stock

1 cup mole negro paste

Traditional mole is made with six chili varie­ties and is ubiquitous at any Oaxacan fiesta, including the Day of the Dead. It's also over­whelmingly complicated if made from scratch. However, most Mexican markets set/ a pre-pared paste (like peanut butter, it has a long shelf life), either in bulk or in jars.

In a large dry frying pan, saute toma­toes, onion and garlic until the skins are slightly charred. Put into a blender with a cup of stock, and blencTat high speed. Put through a food mill. Mix with rest of stock and heat in a two-quart pot. Add mole paste and "heat until ingredients are blended. Add more paste or more stock to taste. It should have the consistency of a thick soup. Pour over poached chicken or pork and serve with rice.

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BGETYOURMM

i he Scoville Organoleptic Test measures spici-ness by mixing a capsaicin extract from chili peppers with a sugar-and-water solution until the heat is no longer detectable by a panel of judges. The mildest peppers have to be diluted only a few hundred times (this number equating to

m their Scoville score), while a jalapeno's essence

has to be diluted up to 8,000 times. To cut down on the heat of stronger peppers, remove the placenta, seeds and veins, where most of the capsaicin—and the heat—is located. Always wear surgical gloves and wash your hands thoroughly with soap and water after han­dling. Some of these babies will literally peel the paint off walls and the skin off your fingers.

Pepper: Anaheim

(New Mexican chili) Native to: New Mexico and California

Used in: chiles reUenos Scovlle: 500-2,500

Anaheims have a mild, clean flavor and once roasted are great in omelets and chilaquiles in addition to chiles rellenos. They were named after the California town where a rancher started a pepper cannery years ago—now home of Disneyland, the Ducks and the Angels.

Peppen NuMex Big Jim Native to: New Mexico

Used in: green chili

stew Scovile: 500-2,500

One of the great things about New Mexico green chilies is their heat range—mild, medium and hot. They're employed liberally in New Mexico's famous green chili stew and posole. The hottest ones in a pure green sauce on top of huevos ran-cheros are an extraordinarily effective—though drastic—cure for a tequila hangover.

Peppen pasllla Native to: Mexico

Used in: jalsa, mole Scovlle: 1,000-2,000

Pasillas are sometimes mistakenly called anchos. In fact, an ancho is a dried poblano just as a dried smoked pasilla is sometimes referred to as a negro. Pasillas, particularly negros, are prized in Mexican cooking for their smoky flavor and earthiness.

Pepper: paprika Native to: Spain and Hungary

Used Ik chorizo,

chicken paprikash Scoville: 0-8,000

Known as pimentdn in Spain, paprika starts life as a Hungarian wax pepper before it is smoked and ground into a spice. It ranges from mild to smokin'. Most Hungarian paprikas available in the U.S. are mild and inferior in quality to hotter Span­ish pimentdn. Get the good stuff at tienda.com.

Pepper: jaiapeAo Native to: Mexico

Used in: poppers, tacos,

gazpacho Scovlle: 2,500-8,000

The most versatile pepper in the world, the jalapeho's heat and concentrated flavor make it great in hundreds of recipes: tacos and burritos, salsas, cheese spreads, muffins, slow-cooked beef or pork, corn relish, gazpacho and, of course, the mighty popper. By the way, a smoked jalapeho is a chipotle.

Pepper: sorrano Native to: Mexico

Used in: macamole Scovllle: 8,000-22,000

They come in red or green and are not to be trifled with. Serranos don't have the fruitiness of jalape-hos, but they have far more heat. Just one minced is all you need for each avocado in a guacamole. Rumor is, serranos are being bred with less heat for the North American market. The horrori

Pepper: prik kee noo Native to: Southeast Asia

Used in: torn yum goong Scovltos 100,000-225,000

Outside of Thailand this pepper, once consid­ered the hottest in the world, isn't known by its literally translated name—mouse turds. Tom yum goong (hot and sour shrimp soup), found in most Thai restaurants, is a dish where the flavor of the chili comes through.

Pepper: habanero Native to: Mexico

Used in: salsa Scovllle: 150,000-325,000

Named after Havana, Cuba, where it was often traded, this small orange pepper originated in the Yucatan peninsula and is central to its cuisine. The pepper's citrus flavor and intense floral notes make it a great accompaniment to traditional dishes such as birria (meat stew, usually with goat).

Pepper: Scotch bonnet Native to: West Indies

Used in: jerk chicken Scoville: 150,000-325,000

Very similar to the habanero in terms of heat, the Scotch bonnet (so named because the squashed pepper looks like a tam-o'-shanter) has a unique flavor that's not as citrusy as its cousin's. Key to Jamaican, Trinidadian and Guy­anese cuisine, its best-known expression is in the marinade used to make jerk chicken.

Peppan bhut/oloUa

''rjhost chili) Native to: Bangladesh and India

Used in: cNII oil, tear gas Scovile: 1,000,000-plus

In India, the essence from the world's hottest chili pepper is sometimes smeared on fences to ward off wild elephants. The Indian military has weaponized it. "The chili grenade has been found fit for use after trials in Indian defense laboratories," said a spokesperson. Some peo­ple even eat these ghost chilies. Damn!

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