Jalapeños are small, spicy quasars in my universe of food. Small enough to carry around in pockets for impromptu picnics, yet possessed of an efficiency of flavor deep enough to soothe the Aztec shaman raving bloodlust mad in my head (and actually they go great with brie!). I’ll be honest here: sometimes I drift off into strange midday reverie just gazing at their smooth taut skins, caressing the subtle craters of their oft-misunderstood surfaces, ingrained with braille-like countenances, where knowledge of the fires held therein spark a quintessential thirst, a basic need for nectar of the gods. That and they go great with goat cheese.
Serious now, I’ve been fusing Mexican & Greek food now for some time (think spicy Sunday Spanakopita brunch with black beans, Feta and Bloody Marias) but the Jalapeño Focaccia I made has to be the truest love child I’ve ever had the pleasure making.
Most Jalapeño bread calls for some kind of cheese (we don need no stinkin nachos, mang!), which tends do what mayo does to any bold original flavor, dumb it down. I can do without the cheese, but certainly not without the various pinches of Stoneground Mexican Oregano, Ancho chili strips, whole roasted cloves of garlic, pepper seed infused olive oil and roasted ground cilantro seed. No, nocando.
Remember when Homer flips out from eating the Guatemalan chilis grown by inmates at an insane asylum? What does he ask his spirit guide (a coyote voiced by Johnny cash)? Is Marge my soulmate?
With this bread, toasted and split in two, a little feta onion and tomato mixup, another Bloody Maria and a Sunday afternoon, the only soulmate you’ll need a healthy desire to know when to say when (and which body parts not to touch…). Disfrutenlo!