On Friday, I made enchiladas to celebrate Hot and Spicy Day.
Originally, I had planned to make enchiladas for only Cole and me, but a friend of Cole’s showed up, then another friend showed up, and I ended up turning two stacks of enchiladas into four. I felt rather God-like . . . feeding the multitude!
Spicy food and I have made friends slowly, which has always surprised my spicy parents, who have a vintage jar in the refrigerator that they call the “recipe.” I’m not exactly sure of all the ingredients that make up the recipe, but I know it has lots of jalapenos and jicamas along with some other vegetable. The recipe is eaten on a Saltine cracker as a snack. When they open the jar, my eyes start to water and my nose starts to run — so, needless to say, I have never tried the recipe.
In New Mexico, green chile is served with everything: At McDonalds you can have green chile on your hamburgers; children take green chile and mayo sandwiches in their lunches; and green chile seeds are tossed in coffee and paired with green chile breakfast burritos. Green chile is New Mexico’s comfort food.
The correct spelling in Spanish is chile with an e. This is one of the few things I remember from my 12 years of Spanish. Mom, you are right! I’m glad I learned a little Spanish!
Starting in August, New Mexico (all of New Mexico) smells like green chile, for tiz the season to roast green chile. As luck would have it, I most often visit New Mexico in August, and everywhere we go (Walmart, Sam’s Club, local grocery stories, hardware stores, malls), the smell of green chile roasting creeps over walls and around adobe corners, slithering slowly up and assaulting my nose and eyes. My parents of course, love the smell of chile roasting. They buy their chile, peel it, and put it in the freezer for the long, cold winter months. Ya know, when the temp drops below 60 in the shade.
I don’t like green chile. Would not like them here or there. I would not like them anywhere. I do not like green chile. I do not like them Mom and Dad! My parents still don’t believe me. So I did the only thing I could do and gave them a grandson that loves hot, spicy, and green chile.
When Cole was about four, I bought Chicago hot dogs at a hot dog stand. I asked them to leave the sports peppers off our hotdogs; however, Cole’s hotdog had sports peppers. I felt awful for not checking his hotdog. I checked mine. Big mommy FAIL. Poor little guy — his mouth burned, his eyes watered, and he stuffed the Saltine soup crackers I grabbed from the counter into his mouth by the handfuls (salty kills spicy much quicker than water). But oddly enough he did not spit the sports peppers out or cry.
The sports peppers must have trigged Cole’s spicy gene because from that point forward, Cole enjoyed enchiladas, spicy guacamole, and green chile rellenos. When Cole goes to New Mexico, he has green chile as often as it is offered — which makes my parents very happy.
We celebrated Hot and Spicy Day with enchiladas with red sauce.
Emily, suffering from a cold, enjoyed Hot and Spicy Day with a spicy latte chai tea. Emily wrote, “I opened the lid for the photo, and was hit by the aroma of cinnamon! Lovely! Good on the throat, good for the soul.”
What about you? Are you mild, medium, or hot? Odd Loves Company, so leave a comment if you are so inclined…