The Spice of Life

In what's become one of my favorite annual traditions, Ed and I bought our green chile supply for the year yesterday. Life is looking up again. We buy a few pounds (7, this year), bring them home, separate them out into smaller containers and freeze them for later use. It makes me feel all Martha Stewart and domestic-like.

Having grown up in southern New Mexico, near the self-proclaimed green chile capital of the world - Hatch, NM - I've been a chile-head for most of my life. I can't ever seem to get my fill of the darn things. I don't think many people from outside of southern New Mexico really realize the love affair we New Mexicans have with green chiles (there's not a lot else to love around there besides cows and tumble weeds), but I'm proud to say I alone was able to convert Ed, a New Jersey boy with absolutely no "hot and spicy" experience, over to chile-head status in almost no time. Now it brings a smile to my heart anytime I see him breaking out the green chile to spice up whatever it is we're eating.

I really don't know what it is that I love so much about green chiles. They're often very hot, which I like, but beyond that, they have a unique flavor that makes just about anything you can imagine taste better. Even when they don't set your mouth on fire and send flames shooting out of your ears, they still add a nice spice to just about any meal. They make a great stew and add excitement to everything from scrambled eggs to steak to mashed potatoes to hamburgers. I've even known people to chop them up and add them to peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, although I admit that's going a little overboard, even for me.

One of my fondest memories of growing up in New Mexico is the memory of chile harvest season, typically from late August through early October. The weather would be starting to cool down and vendors would be set up with their chile roasters around town, roasting tons of chiles in a gas-fired rotating barbeque grill type contraption. You couldn't escape that roasting green chile smell. That, more than the arrival of football season or the leaves turning color or cooler weather settling in, instantly signifies the arrival of autumn to my brain.

I think even though he's a convert, Ed still thinks I'm a little freaky about my green chiles. But, just like sex adds a certain spice to life, I'm thinking green chiles do pretty much the same thing. I won't rate green chiles up there with sex, but they're a not-too-distant second.