New Mexico

Historians inform us that Kit Carson, rancher, soldier, fur trapper, guide, chili master, uttered these words on his death bed: “Wish I had time for one more bowl of chili.”

Of course I wasn’t there to hear those words spoken, but I’d bet just about anything that Kit was thinking about a big, steaming pot of “New Mexico Green” when he uttered those (in)famous words. Ask any chili-head about what the worlds “New Mexico Green” mean, and she or he will tell you stories of magical chiles which almost all seem to revolve around the Hatch Chile.

You’ve no doubt heard wine aficionados huff and puff about the terroir of fine wines, that special, sometimes almost ethereal uniqueness that combinations of plant genetics, geography, geology and climate (maybe even microclimates) produce in certain grapes.

You can be damn sure that same terroir principal applies to the magnificent green chile lovingly grown in New Mexico, and we’re talking most specifically the climate and terroir around Hatch in the southern part of the state, north of Las Cruces and El Paso.

Being profound chili heads around our camp, we’ve grown over a dozen chile varieties from seed even way up north in Montana, nursing them in basement heated and lighted grow racks, starting them in the middle of winter in early February and transplanting them with care in May. They were passably good, most of them, but still couldn’t/ can’t hold a candle to the bushel or two we ship over from New Mexico to roast and freeze every year, or the fresh Hatch chiles we can buy at our favorite markets starting about now in the late summer and early fall.

As a point of full disclosure, I’m not from New Mexico, though I was taught about and trained in New Mexico cuisine by a lovely woman over thirty-five years ago during my residency in Salt Lake City. She was the wife of a residency mate, born and raised in Santa Fe, and one of the most intuitive cooks in the kitchen I’ve ever personally watched work.

This is her recipe handed down from her mother and grandmother, and about as authentic as they come. Primal and paleo folks may bark about the 2 tablespoons of flour; we’ve tried and tried to make this work with gluten free flours, and it’s just not quite the same to our taste. (Sometimes you just have to use it, and we’ve long since stopped beating ourselves up for a tablespoon or two of flour to make a recipe work…)

Make a big batch and freeze some, it keeps for months, and it’s great to have some handy with the hankering for green chile strikes.

1 medium onion, chopped fine
3-4 garlic cloves, minced
2 tbsp avocado or olive oil
2 tbsp AP flour or your favorite gluten free sub
2 cups roasted NM green chile, stemmed, seeded, peeled, and chopped
2 cups chicken stock
1 tsp Mexican oregano
1/2 tsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp salt, or to taste
1/2 tsp fresh ground pepper

In a large, stainless sauce pan, heat the oil over medium-low heat; add the onion and garlic and sauté for 5-6 minutes until soft. Note that you’re not trying to brown or caramelize the onion, just soften, turn down the heat if it begins to brown.

Stir in the flour and black pepper, coating the onion-garlic mixture well and cooking for a minute or two. Now slowly whisk in 1 cup of the chicken stock, keeping it moving until the flour has dissolved and the mixture is smooth.

Add the prepped chiles, the rest of the stock, cumin, oregano, and salt, then bring to a low boil. Reduce to a simmer and reduce slowly, stirring now and again, until your sauce reaches the desired consistency.

Will keep in the fridge for 3 to 4 days if you don’t use it all up on the first run, and this sauce freezes like a charm, and is a treasure to have throughout the year.

Enjoy.