Showing posts with label salsa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label salsa. Show all posts

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Corn and Peach Salsa

It is the best salsa. If you make it without hot peppers, it is also very popular with small children.

Dice one onion, one jalapeño pepper and two ripe peaches. Slice the kernels off of two ears of corn. (There is discussion over whether it is better to cook the corn first. Since I am the one chopping interminably, I go for raw.) Add the juice of two limes and some salt. Stir. Serve.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

Orange Avocado Salsa


I am prone to buying ten pound bags of oranges this time of year. I think it's a primal urge to ward off scurvy.

Cut the ends and peel off of five oranges. Cut into slices, and then bite-sized cubes. Add 1/4 onion, minced and 1 handful cilantro, chopped. (Fair warning: I made this salsa to suck up to a toddler with a love of chips. It's super mild. And maybe a little bit acid for small people.) Add 1 tsp. sugar and 1/4 tsp salt. Just before serving, add 2 avocados, chopped coarsely. Stir.

I suppose you could add more onion, a couple of peppers, and maybe a dash of lime. Taste it first though, because the acidity can be a little intense.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Avocado Salsa



The second salsa in as many days! It is as the legends foretold!

Take a perfectly ripe avocado. Slice it in half and remove the seed. Dice the flesh inside the peel and scoop it out with a spoon. Add the juice of 1/2 lime, a half handful of chopped cilantro, and one finely diced jalapeño, without the seeds. (Or with them, fine.) Señor C may be sad, but jalapeños are essential to this salsa. My father sometimes uses canned jalapeños- which allow for greater regulation of capsaicin content.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Mango Salsa



Earlier, I indicated that there was a huge range of salsa besides tomato. I have *two* kinds of Solanaceae free salsa for you this coming week, to prove my wild-eyed allegations.

Take some mangoes. If you've got Tommy Atkins (what a problematic imperialist name for a fruit variety) mangoes, two will be sufficient. If you have Manila mangoes, four will be necessary. If you have another variety of mango, I will assume you are familiar enough with the first two varieties to draw your own conclusions. (I can also come to where you live and test these mangoes extensively.) Cutting mangoes is a bit difficult- there is a line of rough bilateral symmetry which indicates the location of the seed. One can remove large ovals of mango flesh from either side of this line- and then peel off the slightly toxic skin and dice the fruit into a bowl. The remaining flesh on the mango disc could be conscientiously sliced into the bowl, in theory. This has never actually happened. Instead, remove the last bits of skin, gnaw on the pit like the primate you are, floss your teeth, and get on with the rest of the salsa. (This involves repeating the process with at least one more mango. Other people might point out that you can share the mango pits, but you should point out that you are both making the salsa and holding a very sharp knife.)

Dice 1/4 medium onion very finely and add to the mango bowl. Dice 1/2 bell pepper(inessential), one handful cilantro, and one handful mint. (Mint is actually pretty important, but don't let the lack of mint combined with a surfeit of mangoes prevent making mango salsa.) Put these things in the bowl. Add the juice of 1.5 limes and a sprinkle of salt. Stir. If I'm making this for my Midwestern father, I chop in a couple of chiles. If I make this for my Chilean husband, I add a little more lime and mock him.

My entire family pretends that only I know this recipe so they will not have to chop all of these things. Now it is on the Internet, and they have no excuse.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Salsa Cruda


This is the kind of recipe I post when I have committed to posting every day all month, and I am suddenly switched from a 40 hour week to a 50 hour week. I was going to try to provide a secular contrast to the holy beans, but I can barely keep my eyes open.

Serves 4.

Dice 1/2 onion- I am absolutely mystified why so many recipes specify onion color. Dice the onion finely, because large chunks of onion are not palatable to most people- I learned this through trial and error, no reason you should have to.

Coarsely chop three tomatoes. I'm ambivalent about using tomatoes this time of year. If I had slightly more energy, I'd use something seasonal. Persimmon and pomegranate salsa- Cuervito might forgive me eventually.

Chop a handful of cilantro. If you don't like cilantro, you could use Mexican oregano, or espazote, or rent a kitten and get in some solid positive associations with cilantro so that you can eat it like an adult. Please use significantly less of the dried herbs than a handful- something in the 1/2 tsp. range.

Stir the chopped ingredients together. Add the juice of one lime. Sprinkle on some salt, maybe a little olive oil, maybe a chopped jalapeño, maybe some grated garlic. If you wanted to throw in an avocado or some corn, I would understand. In fact, I'll be milking the "chop some sweet vegetable product, add onion and lime and some herbs, call it salsa" recipe cow extensively in the future- but probably not during the persimmon season.