Santa Fe Style : Chile Scenes of Summer

This summer, thousands of Southern Californians will visit Santa Fe. They will come back raving about the trendy restaurants and the wonderful New Mexican food: the shrimp with chipotle cream sauce, the black bean-mango salsa with habanero peppers, the corkscrew pasta with cilantro pesto.

New Mexicans, of course, will sneer. They know that those dishes are about as authentic as those little bandana-ed howling coyotes that seem to have replaced the road-runner as the Santa Fe tchotchke of choice. They’ll chuckle about the turistas , and then smugly dig in to their “real” New Mexican dinners--their hamburger burritos, their Cheddar cheese enchiladas.

And they’ll be just as wrong as the tourists. Fresh shrimp, chipotle chiles, black beans, mangoes, habaneros and cilantro were never part of traditional New Mexican food, though all are likely to be used in the many Southwestern-style restaurants in Santa Fe. Historically, they’re closer to the cooking of the Caribbean basin than that of the Rocky Mountains.

But just as certainly, neither Cheddar cheese nor hamburger were part of traditional New Mexican food. The cheese would be made of goat or sheep milk, and beef was rarely found (and then it was usually dried, in the style of Mexican machaca ).

This kind of culinary blind-spot is nothing new. Early in Willa Cather’s “Death Comes for the Archbishop”--one of the first novels dealing with Colonial New Mexico--a French priest is confronted with a native wedding meal of lamb stewed with chile. He demurs, shocking his hosts by eating a leg roasted for a mere hour. “Father Vaillant had his gigot to himself,” Cather concludes, noting that he drank with it a white Bordeaux he had brought north from Mexico City on mule-back.

Later, another French priest is thrown from the rock at Acoma Pueblo for killing a native servant who spilled the sauce to the priest’s rabbit jardiniere . Whether the punishment was for the murder itself or the culinary imperialism that preceded it is not entirely clear.

It is a difficult and (in at least one priest’s case) dangerous thing to try to define exactly what makes up a cuisine, especially in New Mexico, where it seems every wave of newcomers has brought its own notion of what is worth eating.

Each of the Indian groups--the Hopis, the Pueblos, the Apaches and, later, the Navajos--has its own cuisine that turns subtle variations on the American trinity of corn, beans and chile. There is much game and many breads--made from corn and frequently leavened with the ash from burnt chamisa bush.

The Spanish era dates from 1598, when Onate established his first colonies along the Rio Grande. Santa Fe itself was founded in 1610. The first Spaniards commonly had their cooking done by Indian slaves, to whom they introduced domesticated animals such as goats and sheep, dairy products such as cheese and cream, and also wheat flour, spices (notably cumin, saffron and oregano) and a variety of fruits, such as apricots and apples.

The Pueblo Rebellion of 1680 chased the colonists south to El Paso, but by 1700 Spain had reconquered the territory, and it is from this period that most northern New Mexican villages date. By the signing of the American Declaration of Independence in 1776, the map of northern New Mexico was fairly well settled.

The Santa Fe Trail, which opened in 1821, brought the first contact with the Anglo eastern United States. But for the most part, the first Anglos assimilated into the New Mexican majority. It wasn’t until nearly the end of the 19th Century that the outside world came in any numbers, brought by the railroads. And the real explosion in population didn’t take place until after World War II, when the military bases in Albuquerque and the national laboratory in Los Alamos boomed. From 1940 to 1990, the state’s population tripled, reaching 1.5 million.

New Mexico is a vast state of many cultures, but it is the northern Rio Grande Valley--which includes Santa Fe and Taos--that most people from outside the state think of as New Mexico. The eastern edge and the south are by and large indistinguishable from the adjoining parts of Texas--the panhandle in the case of the east, El Paso for the south. The west mostly consists of the reservations of the Hopi and Navajo.

Central New Mexico, following the spine of the Rio Grande, is where the Spanish first settled, along the trail of the old Camino Real trade route that stretched from Mexico City to Santa Fe. But even that backbone is broken. Traditionally, the dividing line is the bluff at La Bajada--that huge lava rock escarpment you climb just before you reach Santa Fe. From the top of La Bajada, you can see the dry mesas and painted mountains of the south behind you and ahead of you the high, green Sangre de Cristo mountains of the north.

This is rough country. At 7,500 feet and above, the air is thin and dry and so is the soil. Rainfall, when it comes, tends to appear as torrential summer gully-washers. Seasons are definite and winters are severe. The average growing season in Santa Fe is roughly 155 days, and in some areas of the north, it can be as short as 85 days. Compare that to 220 days in the southern part of the state.

Vegetation--particularly of the edible type--is sparse and any agriculture of scale is limited to land along river bottoms. But you have to understand that in northern New Mexico a river is anything that has water running more than an hour after a rainstorm. The Rio Grande, while it is undeniably important as a landmark, is scarcely grand by most standards. North of La Bajada it is rarely more than 20 or 30 yards across.

This is a mountainous, isolated area where, until the building of paved roads after World War II, there was little contact with the outside world. In fact, into the mid-’60s it was still possible to find viejos (old ones) in places like Cordova, Truchas and Las Trampas speaking Spanish that was closer to that spoken by Cervantes than to anything you’d be likely to hear in Mexico City. Of course, today, thanks to the omnipresent satellite dish, the spoken Spanish is much more modern.

The cuisine that grew up in this area is defined by these limits. Agriculture was limited to the staples of corn, chile and beans--the same crops that had been grown by the Indians for centuries before. Livestock was limited to goats and sheep, with even the pig a mark of a certain prosperity. When the first crisp chill of fall comes to northern New Mexico, you still find families coming together for la matancia , the ceremonial celebration surrounding the slaughter of the pig. Beef was a luxury. In old cookbooks, dishes called carne are made either with pork or mutton.

In season, there were wild foods--game, fish, mushrooms (the northern New Mexican mountains are full of boletes ) and herbs. But the seasons are short and their bounty was usually reserved for more celebratory meals.

Trade was limited. Most goods had to be packed by mule up from Mexico or--later--west from St. Louis.

Whatever the ingredients, the flavors of New Mexican cooking are bold and fundamental--the earthy warmth of pinto beans, the nuttiness of blue corn, the fiery tang of green chile and the dusty burn of red chile.

Indeed, even nowadays, it is the Anaheim-type chile--either green (unripe and fresh) or red (ripe and dried)--that is the defining ingredient in most New Mexican cooking. Order an enchilada or a burrito and the waitress will ask “Red or green?” And that is about all there is to variety in most of what passes for traditional cooking in modern New Mexican restaurants.

In one of the more famous quotations about New Mexican food, Santa Fe Trail trader Josiah Gregg wrote in 1844: “The extravagant use of red pepper among the (New) Mexicans has become truly proverbial. It enters into nearly every dish at every meal, and often so predominates as entirely to conceal the character of the viands.”

In any case, this chile is not to be mistaken for what is called the Anaheim chile here in California. On the 10-point scale used for rating the heat in chiles, a true Anaheim rates a 1 (a habanero , a 10). The most popular cultivars of New Mexican peppers--NuMex Big Jim, Sandia and Espanola Improved--are rated 4 through 6, right behind the jalapeno. These can be damagingly hot chiles.

Another early visitor, army engineer William Emory, wrote in 1846: “Chile the (New) Mexicans consider the chef-d’oeuvre of the cuisine, and seem really to revel in it; but the first mouthful brought the tears trickling down my cheeks, very much to the amusement of the spectators with their leather-lined throats.”

Fresh green chile is made into a sauce by roasting, peeling and combining the pepper into a flour-thickened roux. Dried red chile is soaked in boiling water and worked by hand (or these days, a food processor or blender) until the pulp separates from the skin, and then reduced until thickened.

The red chile, being dried, was the flavor of choice through the long New Mexican winters, which can be brutally cold. Other foods were dried as well. Corn was dried, not only on the cob but also as smoky-flavored chicos : fresh corn steamed in a sealed horno (clay oven) and dried to be rehydrated and cooked later. Dried field corn or hominy was (and still is) soaked in lye (originally obtained from wood ash soaked in water) and boiled to make posole. Dried blue corn is ground to meal and turned into a liquid gruel called atole . Even summer squash was dried, then rehydrated and cooked with eggs for a dish called rueditas .

Nowadays, these are regarded as poverty foods and are rarely found in restaurants. In almost 30 years of eating in New Mexico, I have never seen either chicos or rueditas on a menu.

But that is not unusual. What passes for traditional New Mexican cooking in New Mexican restaurants these days, while frequently delicious, is rarely historically accurate. It seems more a menu put together to feed tourists cheaply than an authentic reflection of a long-standing culture (as opposed to the new Santa Fe cooking, which is put together to feed tourists expensively). The fact that it is considered authentic by natives (loosely defined as anyone who has lived in New Mexico longer than the person he’s talking to), reflects more a lack of exposure to the real thing than any real historical basis.

The few tastes of the past that are offered are usually pallid at best and frequently downright debased. Quelites is a case in point. Originally a dish made with pinto beans and a foraged herb that resembles a coarse lambs quarter lettuce. If you are fortunate enough to see it on a menu today, you will almost certainly be unfortunate enough to be served canned spinach.

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Willa Cather’s priest may have looked down his nose at a New Mexican lamb stew, but it wasn’t this one. The green chile melts into a smooth, fiery sauce, sweetened by carrots and bolstered by potatoes. For a more intense lamb taste, deeply brown lamb bones and trimmings in a bit of oil, then add chicken stock. Let it simmer for a half-hour for a richer-flavored stew.

GREEN CHILE-LAMB STEW 1 pound boneless lamb, preferably shoulder, cut in cubes Flour Bacon drippings or vegetable oil, or combination 1 large onion, sliced 3 cloves garlic, smashed 1 cup peeled, seeded, chopped tomatoes, about 2 large tomatoes 1 cup roasted, peeled, chopped green chiles, or to taste 12 baby potatoes, halved, about 1 pound 2 large carrots, peeled and sliced 1 1/2 cups beef broth Salt Freshly ground pepper

Dredge lamb lightly in flour and shake to remove excess. Heat 2 tablespoons bacon drippings over medium-high heat in heavy-bottomed skillet. Add meat and brown, being careful not to crowd pan. This may be done in more than 1 batch and may take additional bacon drippings. When meat is thoroughly browned on all sides, remove to plate and set aside.

When all meat is browned, reduce heat to low and add another tablespoon of bacon drippings to skillet. Add onion and stir to coat. Cook, covered, over low heat until onion is tender, about 10 minutes. Add garlic, cover, and continue cooking until onion is lightly browned and very tender.

Add tomatoes and chiles to onion mixture and stir to combine. Add potatoes and carrots. Return meat to pan and add enough beef broth to barely cover meat. Cover and bake at 300 degrees until lamb is tender and vegetables are cooked through, about 1 hour, depending on size of lamb cubes. Season to taste with salt and pepper. Makes 6 servings.

Each serving contains about: 234 calories; 319 mg sodium; 37 mg cholesterol; 11 grams fat; 20 grams carbohydrates; 14 grams protein; 0.90 gram fiber.

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OK, so this recipe uses Jack cheese--not a truly authentic New Mexico staple. But can you imagine the price of three cups of fresh goat cheese? Honestly, the texture of the melted Jack cheese is closer to aged goat cheese and the little bit of fresh goat cheese gives just enough tang to make the enchiladas interesting. You can also make this with yellow corn tortillas. No one knows just where the New Mexican penchant for fried eggs on enchiladas began (or, for stacking rather than rolling enchiladas, for that matter), but among the cognoscenti, it’s a given.

AUTHENTIC NEW MEXICAN RED CHILE ENCHILADAS Oil Red Chile Sauce 12 blue corn tortillas 1/2 cup finely chopped onion 1 cup goat cheese mixed with 2 cups dry Jack cheese 4 eggs

Film skillet with oil and heat over medium heat. In another skillet heat Red Chile Sauce over medium heat. Dip tortilla in skillet filmed with hot oil, turn and dip other side. Dip tortilla in skillet of hot Red Chile Sauce and place on oven-proof dinner plate. Sprinkle with 1 teaspoon onion and 1/4 cup cheese mixture. Repeat with 2 more tortillas, layering each with onion and cheese.

In large skillet add oil to film. Then fry eggs over easy. Place 1 fried egg on top of enchiladas, cover with more Red Chile Sauce.

Repeat on second, third and fourth plates. Bake at 325 degrees until cheese melts. Makes 12 enchiladas, or 4 servings.

Each serving contains about: 690 calories; 1,517 mg sodium; 263 mg cholesterol; 43 grams fat; 45 grams carbohydrates; 30 grams protein; 1.21 grams fiber.

Red Chile Sauce 16 to 20 large whole red dried Anaheim chiles 4 cups boiling water 2 tablespoons oil 2 cloves garlic, peeled and chopped 1 teaspoon cumin seeds or ground cumin 1 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon oregano

Wash chile pods. Remove stems, seeds and veins. Place pods in bowl, cover with boiling water and let stand until pods are soft, about 15 minutes. Strain, reserving liquid and puree in food processor until relatively smooth, adding enough water to make smooth, thin paste, 3 to 4 cups.

Heat oil in skillet over medium heat. Add garlic and cook until tender. Add cumin and cook just until fragrant. Pour pureed chile through strainer into hot pan, pushing pulp through with wooden spoon to make sure all skin is removed.

Continue cooking until sauce thickens, about 5 minutes. Season to taste with salt and oregano. Makes 2 cups.

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Most New Mexican chiles rellenos these days are stuffed with cheese-food. This recipe, based on one in Cleofas M. Jaramillo’s 1939 “The Genuine New Mexico Tasty Recipes” (available in reprint from Ancient City Press, P.O. Box 5401, Santa Fe, N.M. 87502) seems almost medieval in its counterpoint of sweet and sour and spice flavors.

CHILES RELLENOS 1 (1/2-pound) round steak 1 tablespoon lard 1/4 cup sugar 1/4 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon cloves 1/4 teaspoon cinnamon 1/4 cup seedless raisins 3 green chiles, roasted, peeled and chopped 1/4 cup vinegar or red wine 24 whole green chiles, roasted and peeled 2 eggs, separated Oil Flour Chile-Tomato Sauce

Boil round steak in skillet with water to cover until well-done, about 15 minutes. Grind steak in meat grinder.

Heat lard in skillet over medium heat. Add ground meat and brown. Add sugar, salt, cloves, cinnamon, raisins, chopped chiles and vinegar. Mix thoroughly. Carefully slit each whole chile and remove as many seeds and veins as possible without breaking flesh. Spoon about 2 tablespoons filling into each chile and set aside.

Beat egg whites in bowl until very stiff. Add yolks and beat. Add oil to deep skillet and heat. Roll each stuffed chile in flour, then in beaten egg. Then fry chiles in skillet. Do not crowd skillet. When lightly browned, drain and keep warm.

Spoon Chile-Tomato Sauce on serving plate and place 3 chiles on top. Makes 24 chiles rellenos, or 8 servings.

Each serving contains about: 249 calories; 267 mg sodium; 67 mg cholesterol; 12 grams fat; 30 grams carbohydrates; 10 grams protein; 2.76 grams fiber.

Chile-Tomato Sauce 2 tablespoons oil 1 clove garlic, crushed 2 tablespoons minced onion 1 cup roasted, peeled, chopped green chiles 1 (14 1/2-ounce) can diced tomatoes in juice Salt

Heat oil in skillet over medium heat and saute garlic and onion until tender but not browned. Add chiles and tomatoes and cook, stirring until slightly thickened. Season to taste with salt. Makes about 1 1/4 cups.

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This fresh-tasting New Mexican side dish is based on a recipe from Erna Ferguson’s 1934 “Mexican Cookbook” (available in reprint from University of New Mexico Press, Albuquerque, N.M. 87106).

CALAVACITAS CON CHILE VERDE (Summer Squash With Green Chile) 1 ear corn 4 tablespoons bacon drippings 1/2 cup roasted, peeled, chopped fresh green chiles 1 clove garlic, minced 1/2 cup onion, chopped 4 medium zucchini or yellow squash, diced 1/2 teaspoon salt 1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Cut corn from cob. Heat bacon drippings in skillet over medium heat. Add corn kernels and saute slowly. Add chiles, garlic and onion. Cook until onion is transparent. Add zucchini and season to taste with salt and pepper.

Cover and cook over low heat until zucchini is tender, about 10 minutes. Makes 4 servings.

Each serving contains about: 80 calories; 316 mg sodium; 5 mg cholesterol; 4 grams fat; 9 grams carbohydrates; 2 grams protein; 0.58 gram fiber.

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No canned spinach here. This is pretty close to the real thing (or as close as you can come without genuine foraged lambs quarters) and it’s adapted from Fabiola C. Gilbert’s “Historic Cookery,” a pamphlet from La Galeria de los Artesanos (P.O. Box 165, Las Vegas, N.M. 87701).

QUELITES 2 pounds mixed spinach and turnip greens 2 tablespoons oil 2 tablespoons chopped onion 1 tablespoon dried red chile flakes 1/2 cup cooked pinto beans Salt

In pot of rapidly boiling water, blanch spinach and turnip greens until just tender. Remove from water and squeeze dry. Chop greens finely (should make about 2 cups).

Heat oil in skillet over medium heat and saute onion until transparent. Add greens, chile, beans and salt to taste. Stir well to heat through. Makes 4 servings.

Each serving contains about: 145 calories; 267 mg sodium; 0 cholesterol; 8 grams fat; 15 grams carbohydrates; 8 grams protein; 2.98 grams fiber.

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Sopaipillas are tricky. To be successful, make sure of two things: first, that you roll the dough thinly enough--sopaipillas should be more a puff than a beignet; second, make sure that the oil is hot enough--400 degrees is just below the smoking point of most vegetable oils, but not by much.

SOPAIPILLAS 2 cups flour 2 teaspoons baking powder 1 teaspoon salt 2 tablespoons shortening or oil 1/2 cup plus 3 to 4 tablespoons cold water Oil for frying Honey or mixture sugar and cinnamon

Sift flour, baking powder and salt together into small bowl of electric mixer. Add shortening. Blend at lowest speed of mixer, gradually adding cold water until mixture is moistened but not sticky.

Turn dough onto lightly floured board and knead until smooth. Divide dough into quarters. Form each quarter into ball then roll out as thinly as possible on lightly floured board into circle. Cut circle into pie-shaped wedges. Dough may be cut into squares or rectangles, if desired.

Heat oil in deep skillet to 400 degrees. Fry sopaipillas until lightly browned on 1 side, then turn and brown on other side. Drain on paper towels. Serve with honey or sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon. Makes 18 sopaipillas.

Each serving, without honey or sugar, contains about: 69 calories; 178 mg sodium; 0 cholesterol; 3 grams fat; 10 grams carbohydrates; 1 gram protein; 0.04 gram fiber.

Hot Sources

Blue corn, green and red chiles . . . cooking New Mexican food can be difficult in Los Angeles. Here are some mail-order sources. Be aware that the green chile harvest doesn’t begin until Labor Day and these suppliers may be short of even frozen product.

* Old Southwest Trading Co., P.O. Box 7545, Albuquerque, N.M. 87194. (800) 748-2861. Fresh green chile, $22 to $35 for a 10-pound box, including shipping. Red chile sells for $15 to $23 for a 5-pound box. Visa and MasterCard. Catalogue available.

* Superbly Southwestern, 2400 Rio Grande N.W., Suite 1-171, Albuquerque, N.M. 87104. (800) 467-4468. Frozen green chile, $29.95 for a 6-pound box, including shipping. Red chile ristras from $7.50 a foot, plus shipping. All Hatch, N.M. chile. Visa and MasterCard. Catalogue available.

* Casados Farms, P.O. Box 1269, San Juan Pueblo, N.M. 87566. (505) 852-2433. Posole , chicos and blue cornmeal as well as red and green chile. Red chile sells for $20 for a 5-pound box, plus shipping. Visa and MasterCard. Catalogue available.

* Los Chileros, P.O. Box 6215, Santa Fe, N.M. 87502. (505) 471-6967. Frozen green chile sells for $20.50 for a 5-pound box, plus shipping. No credit cards. Catalogue available.

* Carmen’s of New Mexico, USA, 401 Mountain Road N.W., Albuquerque, N.M. 87102. (800) 851-4852. Red chile, $4.75 per pound, plus shipping; chicos , blue cornmeal and blue corn atole , $4 for 6-ounce package. MasterCard, Visa and Discover. Catalogue available.