I am going to concede that everybody loves to talk about food, not just old people. I was persuaded by another conversation about food last evening, a table of nine, this conversation quite enjoyable. Also, I have been inspired by Mr. Anchovy's blog, 27th Street, recent entries in which have featured chile peppers. If you can't beat 'em, join 'em.
Therefore and forthwith, we will talk a little bit here about food, real Mexican food. Which is not invariably picante, as a matter of fact, but which, admittedly, quite often will leave you gasping. The thing is, when making it yourself, you can always back it off. La Mexicana usually recommends brown sugar for this when the heat is supplied by peppers.
The food here bears only the most remote relationship to that served in the Mexican restaurants in my hometown in the middle western United States. The closest authentic Mexican restaurants up there are in Chicago.
In any event, the first installment on food will be down the road a bit, but that will give you time to amass some ingredients.
First, go to your local Mexican grocery store and fill up the spice rack in your kitchen with various spices and dried herbs that you have never heard of, as well as some bottles of potable Mexican liquids that also appear to be food ingredients. Get a bigger spice rack if you need to.
Next, fill up a couple of your pantry shelves more spices and herbs and a lot of rice and assorted dried beans and a bunch of other unidentifiable dry ingredients with Mexican names.
Lastly, fill up your refrigerator with fresh produce and left-over Mexican dishes in Tupperware® containers or any other subtle substitute container. The left-overs will be one of our most important ingredients, so borrow some left-overs from a Mexican neighbor if you must.
I will give you some time to get this done. Then we will be starting.
We will bring everyone along gradually. We will not be making chicharrón with salsa verde right away. That is the salsa verde, already prepared, with a piece of deep fried pig skin that one purchases at the closest little meat market, that is, chicharrón. (By the way, really roll those double r's.)
I say a “piece” because the deep fried pig skin, which is very fluffy and airy, comes out of the meat market in much larger sheets than this. This dish can be prepared a little hot to very hot, kinda like on a spectrum with kerosene at one end and high octane jet fuel on the other. We will work our way up to dishes such as chicharrón with salsa verde.