Kickin' in the Kitchen/

 It's a Total

 Salsafest, Dude!!

Sam Miller

                                                                                     

                 

Fresh salsa is quite literally food of the gods having originated in the great feasts of the Mayan and Aztec peoples. Most great cuisines can usually trace their lineage to some powerful aristocratic culture with bored emperors or flashy kings demanding ever better fare for their table.

In the case of salsa there was some priest god telling Mixtli, the Cook, “You make a good batch of that stuff or you’re gonna take a trip to the top of the pyramid you’re never gonna forget my little man.”

So Mixtli got busy with some tomatoes and chiles and, heaven help him, an obsidian knife, chopping the familiar Salsa Cruda with which most people know. He used roughly three large ripe tomatoes and one large onion diced perfectly, three seeded Jalapeños and one bunch of cilantro minced extremely fine, the juice of two limes and salt to taste. Simple glorious perfection.

One day, according to my Mayan prep cook sources in San Francisco, the guy in the feather robes and the big emerald in his headband came down and told Mixtli he wanted some new kind of salsa and in a stroke of genius inspired by unbridled terror (always a good motivator for the slacker line cook) he did something different. He created a new kind of salsa which has been passed down through the generations.

Its secret was divulged to me after the consumption of liberal amounts of fermented Agave juice by a certain Jose from Quintanna Roo .

So gather round my little Aztecs as I share with you –

Mixtli’s Fire Roasted Salsa Negra de Yucatan.

Preheat Outdoor Grill to as HOT as you can get it. Take five Tomatoes, four Jalapeños, three Onions peeled and halved so the rings show, and 3-4 Anaheim or Pasilla peppers or both and place in a large stainless steel bowl. Add a tablespoon of plain oil. Toss vegetables until well coated with oil and pour out on the hot grill.

Roast, turning occasionally until well blackened remove from grill and set aside. to cool. Seed and stem peppers after cooled. Place in everything in a food processor, or blender or use( my favorite) a Braun Multiprep Mixer on a Stick and pulse mix until mixture is chopped coarsely. Don’t make it into baby food!! Stir in the juice from two limes, a good pinch of cumin (Fresh toasted seeds ground fresh are always best) and salt to taste. A couple chipotle peppers can be added for a smoky variation.

 

 

Poor Mixtli. He avoided the sacrificial altar for just one year. Then he served a highly experimental cazuela of enchiladas involving bananas and sardines that angered the gods greatly.

These days we can take more chances with less dire consequences. In Frisco, there are a bunch of budding Mixtli’s doing all kinds of things with salsa. Some are actually worthy of the Aztec punishment. Every now and then a shining star emerges and it was on one stellar evening that I encountered a taste sensation.

The creator was a little known chef who worked at the now defunct Corona Bar and Grill. He’s now a big name chef with about four restaurants and three cookbooks under his belt. He never made better food than when he was slaving at the Corona for chump change and the Grilled Swordfish with Pineapple Salsa was one of his finest moments.

The fruit salsa concept is been very “done” these days but that’s because there are so many hacks out there making trash out of any fruit they can get there hands on. There was a quality to the now Mr. Big’s salsa that was indiscernible and captivating that I could not decipher. One evening after a bit of storytelling and imbibing, Jose and I were in the mood for a snack. Jose cut up some oranges and melon and sliced a lime and filled a dish with salt and a little cayenne pepper. He squeezed the lime on the fruit and, in the tradition of his people, lightly sprinkled it with salt and cayenne. I did the same.

“Viva la comida!” There was the secret. The addition of just a slight amount of cayenne adds just the right zing for the fruit salsa. I was able to reproduce the recipe, restore my sanity and stay away from tequila for almost a week.

Here then is the recipe for

Mr.-Fat-Cat-Important-Chef-That-Doesn’t-Cook-Anymore’s Pineapple Salsa.

A proper cut for your ingredients is essential. You want to have a very fine exact dice which is known by the French term “brunoise” in the industry, as in the way vegetables are prepared for a brunoise which is kinda like a mirepoix, but you knew that. Think tiny little eensy cubes. Look in a Jacques Pepin book for instruction if you need them.            

Don’t be a hack. Do it right. Brunoise the following ingredients:

     1/2 Pineapple peeled and cored

     1 Large Red Onion

     1 Red Bell Pepper

     2 Seeded and Stemmed Jalapeños

      1 Large Carrot

Thoroughly Stem 1/2 bunch of Cilantro and tear into small pieces being careful not to bruise.
           Mix all the ingredients and add the juice from one Large Ripe Orange and two Limes.
           Sprinkle with salt and gently mix. Finally sprinkle in a little Cayenne just to taste. Less is more! The dried Cayenne will rehydrate and cause a “bloom” which means your salsa will just get hotter and hotter as it sits. If you aren’t going to serve it immediately’ wait until just before serving to add cayenne. 
          The above recipe can be modified with other tropical fruit and various peppers. Go crazy, it works for me. The most important rule is to keep the taste clean and fresh. You get bonus points for frying your own tortilla chips which is slightly less complicated than boiling an egg. Let's see if I can get the recipe right, ummm ...cut corn tortillas into triangles fry in oil until crisp. I just know you can handle it.
           Till next time, we kickin’ in the kitchen.

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