Ahh, those alluring chile knights in shining red and green armor. Had I been asked ten years ago to name the Southwest vegetable that causes sweaty brows, teary eyes, a runny nose, and is thus highly addictive, this native Michigander would have been bewildered. Midwesterners just aren't big on spicy food you see. A dose of vinegar and perhaps sliced radish on a salad provides the kick. So, had I not migrated to the Land of Enchantment, I would fail to understand why any sane person would feast on a victual that rendered one in need of a shower.
In '88 local realtor and native Las Crucen, Kathleen Foreman, acquainted my husband and me with the mystical chile. Traipsing through house after house conjured up an enormous appetite and Kathleen treated us at one of her favorite digs, Ranchway B-B-Q on Valley Dr., where ambitious salsa reigns still. It was a memorable, and briefly embarrassing, nose dripping affair, which Kathleen assured in short order was perfectly appropriate chile etiquette.
Chile bite, I later learned, is rated on a scale of 1 (cool) to 10 (incendiary) and I must report that I'm on rung 7, and ascending. I scatter fiery chile on just about everything - eggs over easy, tuna salad, steaks, and apple pie. I don't recommend it on cereal, however. Nevertheless, it's often the most bizarre chile dish that pleases my palate most.
My lust for the chile mojo has gone beyond the required daily fix. I collect scads of chile cookbooks, books on chile topics, and chile paraphernalia. Fresh ristras decorate my terrace, a wooden ristra dangles from a kitchen hook, and a ceramic slotted red chile stand holds a favorite chile recipe upright. I've also acquired t-shirts, jewelry, stickers and a pair of boxer shorts, all "well seasoned" with the pudgy pod. (The boxer shorts were a gift to my husband on Valentine's Day. He refused to wear them, however, even behind the proverbial closed doors, so I've claimed as my own.)
My most recent hobby is chile surfing on the net. I comb every chile site at the tap of my mouse. And I linger in chile chat rooms discussing serious and not so serious chile topics. My favorite tales are about neophytes, as I once was, whose culinary world is just beginning to expand. We "seasoned" vets take a certain smug pleasure in belonging to a still exclusive club, although the spice is finding its way north in dishes like salsa. (The nationwide popularity of this condiment now out ranks ketchup.) Chile's surely happening, and Chile Knights keeps up with the action.
