One could but shouldn’t live on AzMex comida alone, especially if one no longer lives anywhere near Az or Mex or alone. (Well, at least not at every meal. To deny thine a daily homemade lunch of two undocumented Az flour tortillas wrapped around Rosarita refried beans, cheese, diced raw onions and salsa/hot sauce and/or Taco Bell burritos – an argument for TB’s keeping it puro Mexicano to come – constitutes a heresy punishable by a shamelessly embarrassing middle-aged infantile pouting Stomp solo in a large, crowded public space before wife and child.)
Ergo, this post looks East for spicy/savory/sweet sustenance, namely New Mexico and the enchanting green manna our 48th state harvests annually, right about now. Tis/twas green chile season all through September y ahora the left side of the Kitchen Aid finds itself again gloriously stuffed con a fresh frozen satchel of 2012 Big Jim Chile Verde del Mexico Nuevo.
Obligatory “Breaking Bad” reference: While surely a dearth of critical cortexes have wrung themselves blue at cultural studies conferences discoursing on the allegorical agency of “The Blue Stuff” – I beg to differ. To mangle-a-phrase I Bob Dylanstanzaspotted – not surprisingly – on a KFC marquee in Southern Lit’s Mecca, Oxford, Mississippi: “The Blue Stuff ain’t crack, it’s Chile!” (Original quote: “The sun’s not yellow, it’s chicken.”)
Donde estoy? Ah yes. The 2012 hazmat cargo of NM chile verde landed last week, ice still dry/foam fully styro. Why the WMD packing? Fresh Roasted Green is sacred sh*t, as in “This Green Stuff is The Sh*t.” THe Sh*t absolutely need be frozen prior to shipping. No worries: defrosted green remains none less fresh than Bellagio maguro or it’s carpet.
Every day for the first few weeks following delivery of the fresh sh*t is Easter/Christmas/Birthday as one conceives/resurrects favorite platas, regularly randomly eats the sh*t straight out of the bag often so blissed out one also also also also (sounds a like a cumbia that “also also also also”)
Huh? Oh yes, one regularly forgets to wash ones hands inadvertently burning ones eyes and/or genitals.
By Thanksgiving we see the sh*t supply down by half. Thus rationing begins. Winter calls for robust stews and fulsome soups, Hochelian meatloaf and matriarchal casseroles. Spring and summer are smoothie, chile-pop, y sh*t infused cerveza season.
The last bag (the satch having been peeled and bagged in Ziplocs resembling what once was commonly referred to in the drug trade as “a quarter” prior to shipping and/or transport) is brought to room temperature late in August. Ergo: mi Mexi-chago Green Chile Casserole featured 2011’s last sack.
Enuff of my critical beat down…bring on THE SH*T.
(Note: If you’ve been buying “green chiles” or “green peppers” grown anywhere outside of NM you are eating its Replacement Ref. Cali Anaheim does not a NM green chile make. Canned works only if you’ve never had the real deal. Once you’ve eaten fresca chile verde everythying else tastes like SPAM. Though fresh green makes SPAM taste like steak. Blah x 1,000,000,000,000,000,000.)
These Bagels Are “The Sh*t”
Any toasted everything bagel will do (even the Lenders tastes like Essa Bagel once touched by The Shit)
Layer in order:
The Shit aka NM Green
Diced or sliced tomato
salt and pepper
lime, if your so desire
Serve with coffee. Repeat.
This Beck cancion is The Sh*t
This Grilled Cheese Sandwich is The Sh*t
Again, go posh or cheap with cheese/bread/butter. The Shit alchemizes. This heavenly sandy features Jewel brand multi-grain, pre-packaged individually generic wrapped cheese slices, butter. Sear to taste.
This Frito Pie is The Sh*t
Fresh pinto beans (salt and pepper ONLY)
This grilled chicken marinated in olive oil, salt/pepper & rosemary/sage; fresh mozzarella, boiled/chopped sweet corn, fresh cilantro and green chile salad is The Sh*t.
More Sh*t to come:
Pork on a tort
Red Ribbon pork butt chili/stew
Uno termindo thing: Por que te llama del “La Caca” and not La Bomba? Sure, The Bomb is vastly more accurate description of chile verde’s culinary smack down on la lengua (and combustible exit strategy) and who wants to eat “Sh*t”? Well, though “The Bomb” seems the favored nomenclature of today’s young bugger sugar marketer/pusher time was (as in Heisenberg’s) “The Bomb” meant bad as in bad not bad as in good. Time was and in certain circles The Sh*t is, was and will forever be The Sh*t.
Besides, The Cat’s Ass was already taken.