I Make Excellent Salsa
Really.
I had no idea, actually, that I could make salsa at all. I'm not much of a cook, all things considered, so it always comes as shock when I can produce something from the kitchen that doesn't make people wax rhapsodic about the quality meals that they could be having at White Castle, were they not stuck here eating my burned, noxious offerings. With the salsa, I just kind of winged it and, turns out, it was damn fine.
The salsa looked like this:
Now, for the record, that's not a picture of the salsa that I, technically, made. That's a picture I found via a search with the Google. Unfortunately, my salsa was so good, Girlfriend and I plowed through it with a careless abandon regarding any potential photographic evidence. Take my word on it, though... it looked a lot like it does in the above pic. We didn't, however, have a large plate of limes sitting next to the salsa at any point; not sure what that's about, though I guess one could assume that the people eating the pictured salsa had a pretty severe case of scurvy.
Anyway, because I'm all about spreading the love when it comes to spicy, Mexican-influenced dips, here's how I made the wondrous salsa that was consumed in my house yesterday over the course of the film Night of the Comet and the last half of the Mets game...
C-Dog's Salsa That's Better Than Any Other Salsa Ever (Maybe):
Tomatoes - I used seven plum tomatoes, because they're much more firm than your average, tarting-up-a-ham-sandwich tomato. I sliced them up in a wild, ragged fashion, leaving much to be desired in the neatness department, but in doing so creating a chunky, multi-textured base for to build our salsa upon. Oh, also, I have really shitty knife skills, which means I couldn't cut uniform chunks of tomato if it would prevent WWIII.
Onion - One white onion. Diced. Or as diced as a person like me, who wields a kitchen knife with the same precision and elan as Leatherface wields a chainsaw, can muster. You can use purple onions too, if you like; I actually wanted to use purple onions originally, but the ones at my local grocery store looked like someone had run them over with a mid-sized sedan. White onion works just fine, though.
Jalapeno - I used two jalapenos; big fat ones. Depending on how much you hate your taste buds, you can leave the seeds in or not because the seeds are where the spicy is. I removed about three quarters of the seeds, but I did leave some in. This gave it a mild heat, which was nice, but wasn't so brutal that I wanted to rip my tongue out with a pair of pliers.
Garlic - Two cloves, minced in a food processor. I supposed you could chop these by hand, but because of their size and relative slipperiness, I opted to let a friendly kitchen robot do the work for me, lest I come away from the salsa-making experience a few digits shy of a manly handshake.
Lime - One whole lime, juiced until you can't juice it no more. You can throw the lime husks away, or you can... um... do whatever else it is that one does with lime husks. Smoke them, maybe? Dunno. Eh, better just throw them away.
Cilantro - This is a personal preference. I know some folks think cilantro tastes like the Devil's pubes. Personally, I'm a fan. Use it if you wish. Also, will someone please get on starting a death metal band called "The Devil's Pubes." Get back to me when you've cut a demo. Thanks!
Salt & Pepper - Not to be confused with the 90's R&B group Salt N' Peppa. Though I'd be willing to be that, were you able to cram their hit single "Push It" into a bowl with some tomato and onion, it's be a mighty delicious taste sensation. But we're talking about regular salt and plain ol' pepper here; use as much as makes you happy.
The Secret Weapon - Adobo. It's this seasoning mix that Goya sells and it's kind of like garlic salt, but there's some extra stuff in it too. I don't know what it is, really. Girlfriend introduced me to the wonders of Adobo when we first started cooking together and now I put it on everything with the exception of ice cream sandwiches and even then, must admit, I'm tempted. A few shakes of this and you've got a salsa that could quite possibly save your life. Were salsa capable of doing so, of course.
How To Make - Take all of the above ingredients and dump them in a large bowl. Get your hands in there and mix the crap out of it. Your hands will get all slimy, but that's the price you pay for making the good stuff. Once it's thoroughly mixed, put some Saran Wrap over the bowl and park it in the fridge for a couple of hours to let the flavors mingle and get to know each other a little better, without all the pressures of being at the office where it's hard to have a conversation without old man Robertson breathing down your neck all the goddamn time about the presentation being late and I TOLD YOU I WAS WORKING ON IT, FUCK!!!
Ahem... yes, after you've let it sit for a while, take it out of the fridge. Open a bag of tortilla chips. Dip liberally, dip often, and enjoy the hearty, spicy, Mexican-y fruits of your labors.
One Last Thing - It's polite to share, but if you want to eat the whole bowl of salsa by yourself, you'll get no judgement from me. You made the salsa and if hiding in your bedroom closet and scarfing the whole thing down in one sitting is the only way you can enjoy it, well then... hey... do you, baby. Do you.
I had no idea, actually, that I could make salsa at all. I'm not much of a cook, all things considered, so it always comes as shock when I can produce something from the kitchen that doesn't make people wax rhapsodic about the quality meals that they could be having at White Castle, were they not stuck here eating my burned, noxious offerings. With the salsa, I just kind of winged it and, turns out, it was damn fine.
The salsa looked like this:
Now, for the record, that's not a picture of the salsa that I, technically, made. That's a picture I found via a search with the Google. Unfortunately, my salsa was so good, Girlfriend and I plowed through it with a careless abandon regarding any potential photographic evidence. Take my word on it, though... it looked a lot like it does in the above pic. We didn't, however, have a large plate of limes sitting next to the salsa at any point; not sure what that's about, though I guess one could assume that the people eating the pictured salsa had a pretty severe case of scurvy.
Anyway, because I'm all about spreading the love when it comes to spicy, Mexican-influenced dips, here's how I made the wondrous salsa that was consumed in my house yesterday over the course of the film Night of the Comet and the last half of the Mets game...
C-Dog's Salsa That's Better Than Any Other Salsa Ever (Maybe):
Tomatoes - I used seven plum tomatoes, because they're much more firm than your average, tarting-up-a-ham-sandwich tomato. I sliced them up in a wild, ragged fashion, leaving much to be desired in the neatness department, but in doing so creating a chunky, multi-textured base for to build our salsa upon. Oh, also, I have really shitty knife skills, which means I couldn't cut uniform chunks of tomato if it would prevent WWIII.
Onion - One white onion. Diced. Or as diced as a person like me, who wields a kitchen knife with the same precision and elan as Leatherface wields a chainsaw, can muster. You can use purple onions too, if you like; I actually wanted to use purple onions originally, but the ones at my local grocery store looked like someone had run them over with a mid-sized sedan. White onion works just fine, though.
Jalapeno - I used two jalapenos; big fat ones. Depending on how much you hate your taste buds, you can leave the seeds in or not because the seeds are where the spicy is. I removed about three quarters of the seeds, but I did leave some in. This gave it a mild heat, which was nice, but wasn't so brutal that I wanted to rip my tongue out with a pair of pliers.
Garlic - Two cloves, minced in a food processor. I supposed you could chop these by hand, but because of their size and relative slipperiness, I opted to let a friendly kitchen robot do the work for me, lest I come away from the salsa-making experience a few digits shy of a manly handshake.
Lime - One whole lime, juiced until you can't juice it no more. You can throw the lime husks away, or you can... um... do whatever else it is that one does with lime husks. Smoke them, maybe? Dunno. Eh, better just throw them away.
Cilantro - This is a personal preference. I know some folks think cilantro tastes like the Devil's pubes. Personally, I'm a fan. Use it if you wish. Also, will someone please get on starting a death metal band called "The Devil's Pubes." Get back to me when you've cut a demo. Thanks!
Salt & Pepper - Not to be confused with the 90's R&B group Salt N' Peppa. Though I'd be willing to be that, were you able to cram their hit single "Push It" into a bowl with some tomato and onion, it's be a mighty delicious taste sensation. But we're talking about regular salt and plain ol' pepper here; use as much as makes you happy.
The Secret Weapon - Adobo. It's this seasoning mix that Goya sells and it's kind of like garlic salt, but there's some extra stuff in it too. I don't know what it is, really. Girlfriend introduced me to the wonders of Adobo when we first started cooking together and now I put it on everything with the exception of ice cream sandwiches and even then, must admit, I'm tempted. A few shakes of this and you've got a salsa that could quite possibly save your life. Were salsa capable of doing so, of course.
How To Make - Take all of the above ingredients and dump them in a large bowl. Get your hands in there and mix the crap out of it. Your hands will get all slimy, but that's the price you pay for making the good stuff. Once it's thoroughly mixed, put some Saran Wrap over the bowl and park it in the fridge for a couple of hours to let the flavors mingle and get to know each other a little better, without all the pressures of being at the office where it's hard to have a conversation without old man Robertson breathing down your neck all the goddamn time about the presentation being late and I TOLD YOU I WAS WORKING ON IT, FUCK!!!
Ahem... yes, after you've let it sit for a while, take it out of the fridge. Open a bag of tortilla chips. Dip liberally, dip often, and enjoy the hearty, spicy, Mexican-y fruits of your labors.
One Last Thing - It's polite to share, but if you want to eat the whole bowl of salsa by yourself, you'll get no judgement from me. You made the salsa and if hiding in your bedroom closet and scarfing the whole thing down in one sitting is the only way you can enjoy it, well then... hey... do you, baby. Do you.
posted by Clinton at 11:26 AM
13 Comments:
1. always clean your hands really good with soap and water after the jalapeno before you touch any personal areas, especially the girlfriend. always. always.
2. to remove the smell of garlic or onion or stuff, use a stainless steel spoon (not a fork or knife) like soap under cold running water over your hands. it works like a charm.
now, if i had an apartment, i'd make that stuff...instead, i'm still searching, so i won't be living in a box next to the guy who poo'd in the bushes last week by my bench in the park where i was sitting. i don't think he's willing to sub-let.
Regarding the jalapenos: One of the most painful injuries I ever sustained was jalapeno-related. I was chopping a large quantity of said pepper for one of the pizzas at Whole Foods. It had been a long day and I was tired and, consequently, I wasn't paying very close attention to what I was doing. Long story short, I ended up cutting through a jalapeno and then running the knife through one of my fingers. All of the jalapeno juice went into the wound and I said a lot of words that were unbecoming of a Whole Foods team member.
It hurt a fucking lot.
Yum.
I can't wait to try this.
Fresh salsa is so delish! I just scarfed down a ton of it last night.
Word. I'm actually kind of pissed that plowed through it so quickly. I could eat another bowl of it, like, right now. And every day after.
Damn. Now I want chips and salsa from Benny's.
Some info on adobo:
'“What is an adobo?”
The definition from most sources describes a dish of marinated vegetables and meat or fish served with rice. The Philippines are most often given credit for the dish, although Mexico has a long history of adobo making.
Digging a little deeper, we found that the word adobo comes from Old Spanish word adobar, which means to stew.
Because marinating vegetables and meat or fish is a common everyday process, this opens up a world of opportunities. The basic difference with an adobo style marinade is that vinegar is always used as the tenderizer.'
I got this amazing adobo from a local spice shop called Lodo Adobo. Un-freakin'-believable! I use it with just about any meat product. I would say you should order some, but we all know how you feel about internet shopping.
Well, there you go. It's nice to see that some people do research every now and again. Because I'm CERTAINTLY not going to do it.
I'll have to be on the look out for Lodo Adobo. Though I am quite pleased with the Goya variety at the moment. Change is good, suppose.
yeah, the most painful thing ever to me, and i've had kids by having my gut ripped open..was related to those peppers.
i'll say no more.
I have heard similar tales of woe. If we're talking about what I THINK we're talking about.
And if so... ouch.
ouch was not the word i said.
i do remember something along the lines of holymotherofgodjesusmaryjosephkillmenowarughfuckmedead
and a few others, though.
I would have just vomited and passed out, so the fact that you retained the ability to speak is impressive on it's own.
i am a woman, not being able to speak would have made me male.
well done on the s & p. most people forget that. it's crucial, as you know.
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