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                                                                                FOOD, Page 78

Some Like it Hot


The virile chile -- the food that bites back -- has branded
itself deep into America's palate

By GUY GARCIA - With reporting by Nancy Harbert/Albuquerque and
Georgia Harbison/New York


    The stylish, well-heeled crowd packing the aisles of the
second Santa Fe Wine and Chile Fiesta knew a hot trend when they
saw it -- and tasted it. Between sips of Chardonnay, about
2,000 "chileheads" dressed in pepper-print shirts, skirts and
ties spent four days sampling chile dishes, taking "chile
tours" of the New Mexican countryside and listening to experts
like Paul ("Mr. Chile") Bosland dispense advice on how to grow
just about every member of the family, from the mild-mannered
bell pepper to the Mexican habanero, the world's hottest. The
chile mania "has really turned into a tiger," says Bosland, who
has headed the chile-research program at New Mexico State
University since 1985.

    America's infatuation with the once humble (and often
shunned) chile has been fueled by a proliferation everywhere of
Mexican and nouvelle Tex-Mex restaurants over the past decade
and a growing public appetite for new flavor sensations. Last
year sales of salsa, whose main ingredient is chile, surpassed
catsup by $40 million, making it the country's most popular
condiment. The peppers are popping up in such mainstream
products as Le Menu "Santa Fe style" frozen dinners and
McDonald's chicken fajitas. Manufacturers are packaging chile
pastas, chile jams and jellies, chile catsup, chile-spiced
mustards, peanuts, potato chips and pickles. There is even a
sizzling rock band called the Red Hot Chili Peppers. "There are
very few bad things about peppers," says David DeWitt, editor
of Chile Pepper, a bimonthly magazine with a circulation of
80,000. "They have virtually no calories, no cholesterol, high
fiber, high vitamin A and C content." As a result, says DeWitt,
who will help put on a "Fiery Foods" show in Albuquerque, New
Mexico, next February, chile has become a $3 billion industry
in the U.S. alone.

    Inspired by -- and also instigating -- this heat wave are
such adventurous and widely known chefs as Mark Miller of
Washington's Red Sage and Josefina Howard of New York City's
Rosa Mexicano, who regularly experiment with chile-flavored
dishes like duck tamales with herb salsa, roasted oysters with
green jalapeno strips and chile-laced chocolate cake. Amateur
cooks have joined the craze with the help of more than 20
cookbooks devoted exclusively to hot and spicy Mexican, Thai and
Cajun foods. Mail-order outlets like Hot Stuff in New York City,
Mo Hotta Mo Betta Co. in San Luis Obispo, California, and Hatch
Chile Express in Hatch, New Mexico, sell fresh chile pods,
powders and jars of salsa, as well as such kitschy
pepperphernalia as chile-shaped fishing lures, earrings and
ashtrays. "It used to be our customers would look confused and
ask what they should do [with chile products]," says Chile
Express owner Jo Lytle. "Now they know exactly what kind of
chile they want and what strength."

    This hankering after the excitement offered by
non-European dishes amounts to something like a kitchen
rebellion, says journalist Amal Naj, whose book, Peppers: A
Story of Hot Pursuits, has just gone into its second printing.
"Americans are discovering that food doesn't have to be so
passive," he remarks. "It can be an active experience like
riding a roller coaster, or a good game of squash, or taking a
stroll on a beautiful evening and experiencing the breeze. It
does something to your entire system."

    The "something" that turns the human system into a
four-alarm fire is capsaicin, a chemical concentrated in the
veins and seeds of the chile pod. A member of the nightshade
family (as are tomatoes, potatoes and tobacco), the chile pepper
is believed to have originated in South America. Incas and
Mayans prized it for its vibrant flavor and curative powers,
prescribing peppers for ailments as diverse as arthritis,
epilepsy and the common cold. Pepper seeds carried back to
Europe by Christopher Columbus eventually found their way to
China, Korea, Thailand and India -- the last of which today
leads all other nations in per capita chile consumption.

    Among Americans, the most popular pepper is the innocuous
bell, followed by the pimento, used in making paprika and
stuffing olives, and the green jalapeno, common in nachos and
green salsas. Chile connoisseurs also extol the virtues of such
lesser-known varieties as the smoky chipotle, the fleshy
red-brown poblano, the piquant pequin and the sweet-tasting
habanero, which is famed, perhaps notorious, for its pure,
blazing fire. In New Mexico, the chile-growing capital of the
U.S., the longish local variety is often served stuffed with
cheese or as a topping for hamburgers and pizza.

    The common belief among the pepperati nowadays is that a
dose of hot chile, while not strictly medicinal, stimulates the
senses and clears the mind, prodding the palate to the threshold
between pleasure and pain. There are even some aficionados who
tell of a "chile high," produced by the body's endorphins in
reaction to the sting of the pepper pod.

    The best argument for chile, however, is that it is ideal
for invigorating low-fat, potentially bland dishes and that it
is healthful, plentiful and cheap. Peppers are also in tune
with the nation's changing demographics. "For most of our early
history," says Chile Pepper editor DeWitt, "immigration was from
central Europe -- England, Ireland, Germany -- countries not
renowned for their hot and spicy cuisines. In the past
half-century, immigration patterns have switched to such areas
as Mexico, Asia and the Caribbean. People bring their food, and
they open their markets. We go, and we like them."

    Perhaps equally important is the fact that once bitten,
most chile lovers keep coming back for more. "Hot peppers are
here to stay," says Naj. "It's like people who are trying to
learn swimming. You get them to the swimming pool, and they
don't want to go into the water. Then once they're in it, they
say, `Ahhh, not so bad.' " If Naj is right, it's only a matter
of time before the rest of America takes the plunge.