peppers

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k, so?

Hola, bitches. Ian here. Isley recently outed me to the world for using Velveeta in making chile con queso. Now, I’m the first one to admit that this is kind of skeevy. Plain Velveeta just doesn’t taste like cheese. I think it’s fair to say that Velveeta:cheese::Crisco:butter. You can use the former in place of the latter with certain benefits, but you don’t want to eat that shit on a sandwich.

<jessica> Well, ACTUALLY – speaking of tater tot casserole and mayonnaise sandwiches and things…I’m not gonna say it was the BEST grilled cheese I ever had, but I had an interestingly Velveeta-ed grilled cheese at this bar called Swig one night. It was, like, a club, first of all, which – how did the toast the middle slice of bread??? It is a mystery. And second of all, it was made with these thick-ass slices of actual block-Velveeta (not even the shrink-wrapped sandwich slices!), and I did not hate it. So there. Though also I was eating it at a bar, which might have contributed to my complacency. Christ, it’s kind of depressing sometimes when I’m blogging and I accidentally type out yet another warning sign of alcoholism. </jessica>

<jessica> How worried were you guys that my “well, actually -” was in reference to my love of Crisco sandwiches? </jessica>

So, anyway, last night I made Spanish rice, and as per usual there were tons of leftovers. When it came time to warm them up for dinner tonight, I decided to drop some science and make some non-processed-chile-con-queso. I scoured the tubes for a recipe for queso that didn’t call for Velveeta. This is surprisingly difficult, as you can check yourself. I eventually settled on this, which seemed promising enough. I’m not a huge fan of Emeril as a guy, but his recipes have yet to let me down (bam!).

<jessica> Pow! </jessica>

But, wait! No dinner of warmed up rice leftovers and queso is complete without homemade tortillas. So, I, uh… made some.

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*yawn* The pictures didn’t turn out that great, so I’ll cut to the chase.

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Et voila:

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<jessica> Actually, someone probably should make him post his tortilla recipe at some point. It’s the fastest, easiest, best thing he makes. </jessica>

Okay, so back to the queso. The problem with using real cheese (in this case cheddar and pepper jack) is its meltiness. Since real cheese contains curds and no oil (as opposed to Velveeta, which I’m pretty sure can be used to power your car’s internal combustion engine), it melts into a lumpy, curdy substance. Everything I’ve heard (via AB and other sources) says the lumpy melting can be mitigated by building a roux first, and then melting the cheese into this. I have used this technique fairly successfully to make cheese sauces before, so I assumed that I would work fairly well for the queso. It essentially didn’t.

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The flavor was really great. The DIY pepper/onion/tomato mix was wonderful, perhaps even better than Rotel. The problem was that it was lumpy, pronounced with the umpy. The texture really overrode the flavor and ruined the queso for me. No me gustan los terrones.

<jessica> That’s Italian for, “I won’t feed your dog.” </jessica>

Though it was crappy on a chip, it tasted dandy on the tortillas with the rice.

<jessica> Eh…here’s me officially disagreeing that it was crappy on chips. Fine, it was lumpy, which was a little weird. But it wasn’t, like, weird and oily and separate-y the way you expect melted cheddar to be. And it tasted fucking great. If I were you, I wouldn’t have actually clicked through to read the recipe, so, for those of you who didn’t – he actually roasted a serrano chile and a jalapeno on the gas oven burners and blackened the outside skins before he chopped them up and put them in the cheese. (I’m just a crappy photographer, is the only reason there’s no neat pyrotechnic documentation.) It tasted pretty fucking great. I was willing to put up with the lumps. </jessica>

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After the fact, I looked up tips for reducing lumpiness in cheese sauces. I found two suggestions: use high quality cheeses, and add the cheese off the heat at the very last minute. I did neither of these things. The former was because I was too lazy to walk to the nice grocery store ten blocks away, the latter because I didn’t know any better. Maybe next time? Probably not. Velveeta works really, really well for melting, and the pepper mix covers up the processed-skeeve flavor.

A couple more things before I sign off. First, Jessica discovered an excellent use for Nutella and leftover tortillas. Also, she has a cute haircut, but I wouldn’t put my finger anywhere near her mouth while she’s eating Nutella!

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<jessica> Which is the more embarrassing photo of me: the one where I have butter smeared accross my cheek and am fending the cat off my soup? Or the one where I’m laying into a knife-ful of Nutella like a yeti on Christmas morning? And where does the one where I’m cheesing out with a beet stuck in my front teeth fall in the spectrum? Is this another warning sign of alcoholism, or just an indicator of my enjoyment of Ian’s skill in the kitchen? </jessica>

Second, every time I make something in the oven I burn my goddamned hands. Because I’m a klutz? No. Because my “hotpad” can only handle temperature up to 114 degrees Fahrenheit? Yes. It sucks, and I need a new one. Luckily, my crafty lady-partner can fabricate a set of hotpads using only an old pair of jeans and some scrap fabric, lickety-split.

<jessica> She sounds awesome! </jessica>

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(Ed. By popular demand, the tortilla recipe)

1.5 cups bread flour
1.5 tsp salt
1 tsp baking powder
.25 cup fat (shortening, butter, lard, or some combination thereof [I usually use shortening])
.75 cup hot water (as hot as your faucet will produce, but not boiled or anything)

Add the first four items to a bowl and squish together until the fat is integrated and mixture clumps on squeezing. Then add the water in thirds, thoroughly mixing in at each step. Knead the dough 7-10 minutes, then roll out into a tube and divide into 8-12 parts. Roll the parts into balls, place on a plate, and cover with a warm, damp cloth. Let the dough balls rest for 20-25 minutes, then roll out into flat rounds. The type of fat used seems to affect how thin you can get them rolled out. Then throw them onto a frying pan on high for 45 seconds or so on one side and then 15-30 on the other side. The first pancake rule holds: the first few don’t turn out that well. Usually you can tell when they’re ready to flip because bubbles have formed and expanded to a large but manageable size; squish the bubbles down on flipping.

How hard do I have to try to make this the top image search result on google for “Iman?”

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Yay! Iman visits! He had the Super Special Ian NYC Tourist Tourism Tour, which consists of, like, the best six statues in Central Park (including the totally epic Poland statue), the Empire State building, six of the eight places Ian saw Sex and the City filming, Washington Square Park, Natural History Museum, Times Square, the two awesomest board game shops in NYC, Bryant Park, the main Lion-y library branch, etc etc etc in 40 minutes, which kills the tourists and allows Ian to swing his giant balls while he slowly takes the long walk home and asks, “But don’t you want to see the Statue of Liberty?”

Also, we all went to the Union Square green market. There was a booth there today selling flavored teas: yummy-sounding spearmint-and-honey, yummy-sounding basil-and-mango, yummy-sounding applemint-and-maple syrup, and uh, ginger and jalapeño. Eight thousand totally imaginary dollars to whomever guesses which one Ian spent hard-earned money on.

TASTE TEST!!!!

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(Actual photo of Chris’s reaction to the jalapeno tea did not come out on my camera for some reason – this was a fairly accurate reenactment, I assure you.)

Final verdict: totally awesome, dudes. Highly recommended. Try it!

hey, hey ceviche

Ahoy, bitches.

<jessica> Ahoy! </jessica>

Ian here. So, there hasn’t been a food blog in a couple weeks, and I make no apologies. I was sick: waaaaaay sick. I had to wear a goddamned bag of ice on my head to keep the fever down. Then, when I gave my cold/flu/cholera to Jessica, all she did was take a nap and then go back to work the next day. Curse my feeble immune system!

How does one boost a lame immune system? Why, with fish “cooked” in acid, of course. Back in 2002 I went to California with Jessica to her brother’s wedding. He married into a huge Mexican family -

<jessica> That is, the family is huge. His wife is very petite. Ta-dum CHING! </jessica>

- that wanted nothing more than to cook and cook and cook for the new gringo side of the family. Holy bejesus, was it amazing! We had tamales and chiles rellenos and this great pork/carnitas dish and an amazing batch of ceviche. There was also some of the best sushi (homemade, but not Mexican, so not in the previous list) I have ever had. There’s a funny story about that sushi, too. They worked all afternoon preparing a gigantic tray of ~50 pieces, and when it was ready, none of the other people in Jessica’s family would eat more than a single piece, accompanied by a pained expression and a mumbled “goooood.”

<jessica> Er…except me! And my mom, too. But mostly it was me and Ian shoving many scores of pieces of sushi down our gullets while everyone else mingled and was social. </jessica>

Her brother-in-law went so far as to deliver the old, “where I come from we call this bait” line. Srsly. Rube.

<jessica> Well, okay, but my brother-in-law is a fucking douchebag. He’s not the best role model in more ways than just culinarily. I would tell you, and most certainly already have if he’s ever come up in casual conversation between us before, but it’s far too mean to actually trust to the internet, in case my siblings ever find my blog. :( </jessica>

Um, anyway… ceviche has been lingering on my food blog to-do list since I first wrote it. Like many things I’ve made recently, ceviche gets its start by chopping the hell out onions, garlic, jalapeños, bell peppers, cilantro, avocado, fish, and shrimp.

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<jessica> Pretty! </jessica>

Then you add lime juice, some hot sauce, and some orange juice. The cool thing is that the acidity of the juice chemically cooks the fish in essentially the same way that heat would. All you do is stick the mix in the fridge for a few hours, and bingo: ceviche!

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You can see how the fish has cooked here: its sort of white rather than silver and shiny like in the first picture. That’s better eating through chemistry.

In the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that while the ceviche was all hopped up on acid -

<jessica> Ta-dum CHING! </jessica>

- in the fridge, I had a beer or seven. As such, my recollection of the tasting is a bit fuzzy. Erwin abstained in the interest of a clear memory. That teetotaling tool.

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The eats!

<jessica> Holy crap don’t even try to tell me you don’t want to eat that. </jessica>

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Drunky #1 approves.

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As does drunky the second.

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<jessica> Deliiiiiiiiiiiiiishus! [Does anyone get that joke except David?] </jessica>

Verdict: good stuff, but it needs WAAAAAY more fish and less veg. I also used a bit too much lime, I think. Next time I’d like to serve it on proper tostadas, maybe with some lettuce or something. Also, it needed a different sort of heat than what the jalapeños provided… maybe a habañero or two. Drunky #2 even used the homemade hot sauce from last time. She eats that stuff for breakfast these days.

<jessica> Agreed more fish and less veg – it kind of tasted too much like salsa, and not enough like a meal. Though I’d say more avocado, too. I’m mad for avocado. And probably more beer, because I’m a drunky. </jessica>

and the cats…

and I gave myself coughing fits and did a bit of crying myself.

<jessica> And whining and sneezing and drooling. And then more crying. Because he’s a girl. A crybaby girl. </jessica>

Well, that and I made three different hot sauces. During their production I made the mistake of over-sautéing a pan full of habañeros. The net effect: I have a newfound sympathy for protesters and rapists. Blarg. It was awful; the entire apartment filled with pepper spray. Interestingly, none of the sauces turned out to be that hot. I guess all of the capsaicin ended up in my sinuses and eyeballs rather than in the sauce.

First up was a mild jalapeño sauce. Or, if you prefer, boiled swamp filth.

<jessica> And I do! </jessica>

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I should have learned a lesson from the fumes put off by the jalapeños. I did not.

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The second was a sweeter, fruit-based sauce with only four habañeros for the spice kick. This picture of caramelized mango and pineapple makes me want to hump the tropics.

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The third sauce was supposed to be the hot bastard, the one that would cause my spirit animal to come have a nice chat with me. Instead I ended up with an only mildly spicy sauce and a spot on the UN chemical weapons watch list.

<jessica> Um. No, it was fucking hot. </jessica>

Digby was disappointed in me.

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I spent $9 on food supplies, $6 on these squeeze bottles, worked for two hours in the kitchen, and lost the use of my left eyeball. The result: something that’s almost as good as the $.89 West-Indian hot sauce I buy at the store.

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For the taste test, I made tortillas and plantains. The latter I cooked in some butter and then tossed with a bunch of the second sauce.

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<jessica> Look! Magics! </jessica>

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How to best describe the sauces in action? Let’s let the tortillas speak for themselves.

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So, taste test results? I liked the jalapeño best. It was way milder than something I would usually go for, but at the same time the peppers produced a really great fruity-peppery taste. The hot habañero was second. It wasn’t killer, but it had a nice citrus-pepper combo. The fruity one was third. It was good, but it needed to be hotter. If I make it again I’ll add more peppers to it.

<jessica> First of all, I really need to point out that none of these are actually “mild” in any sane sense of the word. They all tasted like they were made of, you know, fucking HABANEROS. It’s true: they were not balls-out on-fire hot, but they were hot. Ian just has steel pepper balls. Anyone remember this? So, no, none of them made me need to drink buttermilk, but they were not “mild.” Anyway. My ranking: jalapeño, fruity, hot. I like to think of the fruity one as a dessert hot sauce. You could totally put it on cantaloupe and cottage cheese and eat it for breakfast. The hot one, he’s right, had a great citrusy taste to it. It was certainly good. Just the least interesting of the three. The jalapeño one was probably the mildest, which, hi I’m a pussy. But also it was very cilantro-y, which was superawesome. Would be great on scrambled eggs or like those little square fried potatoes you get in diners. </jessica>

Recipes:

Jalapeño pepper sauce

1 lb jalapeño
1 medium onion
4 cloves garlic
1 cup cilantro
1 lemon, zested and juiced
1 1/2 cup cider vinegar
1 tsp oregano
1/2 tsp salt
1 tbsp oil

Sauté the jalapeños, onion, garlic for 10 minutes in the oil. Then dump everything into a blender and blend until smooth. Add back to the pan and cook down another 5 minutes or so.

Pineapple, mango, habañero sauce

1 mango
1 medium onion
3-4 slices of pineapple
4 habañero peppers
2 carrots
1 cup cilantro
1 lemon, zested and juiced
1 lime, zested and juiced
1/4 cup pineapple juice
1 cup cider vinegar
~2 tbsp sugar (to taste)
1/2 tsp salt
1 tbsp oil

Sauté the mango, onion, pepper, pineapple, carrots, and cilantro in the oil for about 10 minutes. Add everything else and bring to a low simmer for 10 minutes or so. Add to a blender and blend.

Habañero sauce (the nuclear option)

12 habañero peppers
1 medium onion
4 cloves garlic
2 carrots
1 lemon, zested and juiced
1 lime, zested and juiced
1 cup cider vinegar
1/2 tsp salt
1 tbsp oil

Sauté the onions, garlic and carrots for 7 minutes in the oil. Add the peppers and sautee another five minutes or so. DO NOT SAUTÉ THEM FOR TOO LONG. IT WILL TURN INTO GODDAMNED PEPPER SPRAY AND KILL YOU AND EVERYONE ELSE IN THE ROOM. YOUR KITTIES WILL HATE YOU. YOU WILL VOMIT YOUR LUNGS OUT. YOU WILL BE SAD. Add the rest of the stuff and blend. If you want, reduce at a low simmer.

peppers 3

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Ian decided to try the pepper that he claimed he was “most afraid of.” This was the smallish creamy-colored pepper. Honestly, I would have thought that the tiny yellow ones were scarriest: smaller = hotter, and these were far bigger. But color counts, too, of course (yellow is hotter than red), and since these were basically WHITE…they were a little frightening.

I think for the most part the pictures can do the explaining on this one:

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“Well? How is it?” I asked.
“Hot. Big.”

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I think this one is my favorite photo. There’s no jumping, no chugging milk straight from the carton. It might all seem like he’s calming down – but that desperate, frightened look in his eye! Oh, it makes me giggle every time.

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He has lost the ability to speak at this point. The note says, “This is the price of hubris.”

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“I am a scientist!”

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“I’m sorry, Jessica! You don’t have to eat any more peppers! Please have this delicious, cool, refreshing raspberry!”

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“Thanks, Ian! It looks delicious!”

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“But, gosh, I’m just too full. YOU have the first bite.”
“Oh. …Okay.”

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OH NOES! IT WAS ALL A MEAN TRICK!!@!!1

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peppers

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We went to the Union Square greenmarket today and got awesome tiny onions and little potatoes to roast them with and something called, srsly, “carrot nuggets.” Also raspberries for only a dollar a pint! And also, these:

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Digby is intrigued! As were we. We had no real idea what most of these were. At the stand where we bought them, they were all separated into types. (You were allowed to mix and match.) I pointed at the super-tiny yellow ones and asked the lady running the stand, “What are these?” “There’s a sign,” she helpfully informed me, pointing to the one single sign that stood in front of all of the 30-some different kinds of peppers. So we just had to taste-test them ourselves.

Do want!

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So Ian pops number one:

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“Very hot. Brief, though. It’s basically gone, now. My lips are all that’s burning now.”

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No, does not want.

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So now it’s my turn. I’m poking around at the larger pinkish ones. “No, no, no,” Ian says. “You have to have one of the yellow ones, too. Don’t be a pussy.”

Ha! Ha! Jessica is no pussy! Jessica laughs in the face of pussy! Jessica tries one.

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Thus ensued some 10 minutes of crying, burning, holding milk very still in my mouth, not having any ability to speak, not having any ability to exhale, whining, more crying, and, according to the many, many pictures that Ian took but which I have chosen not to post, apparently a whole lot of drooling.

Swear to god, all I could taste was heat. Not “burning,” because “burning” implies the taste of smoke, or at least flame, which is something. This tasted like pain, like pepper spray, like chemical burn. But Ian, what’s your opinion? “Fruity!” he chirps.

I believe I was still blind and speechless as Ian ate his second tiny yellow one. I was doing research into what it might be, searching Google for terms such as, “HALP I M DYING OF TOO HOT MEAN YELLOW OUCH PLEASE.” Apparently they’re Cumari peppers, from Brazil. Scoville of 100,000, which is apparently only as hot as mild end of Habeneros or Scotch Bonnets, though it seemed way insanely hotter to me.

But, uh, here’s Ian on his third:

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Oh, is that a little bit of hot he detects?

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Nope, nope – he must just accidentally have been feeling his GIGANTIC BALLS.

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Meanwhile…

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So now I have given up the game. No more taste-testing for me. Ian bravely soldiers on with another tiny one, this one red:

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“Fruity. Way less hot than the yellow.”

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And a slightly bigger but still small red one:

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“Aww…that one’s for fags.” [Four seconds later…] “WHOA! I take it back! That one’s mad ‘cause I called it a fag!” [One second later…] “Eh, it’s gone now. That’s a good one. It would be good in tacos.”

So many peppers left to taste! And yet so many tummys which feel not-good. Ian is “taking a break.” Updates to come as peppers get eaten. I sign off, dreading having to poo, your friend,

Jessica