When I come across them--in farmer's markets, roadside stands in Eastern Washington--I must buy the beautiful chiles and peppers that signal autumn. Especially the hot ones. My kids think Yancey and I are certifiably NUTS. They don't understand why we would knowingly infect almost all our food with painful granules. I want them to be discipled in the Way of Spiciness, but maybe that's a pipe dream. Wyatt's starting to like salsa. That's something.
The problem, of course, is I often end up with a crisper full of peppers, and I'm not nuts enough to eat them out of hand. That's for my mom. I've been roasting them like crazy, but here's another way, thanks to Molly Wizenberg's column in September's Bon Appetit. Here's the recipe if you want to make enemies of your children. She calls for sweet peppers--I used hot ones. We've been putting them on everything--pizza, sandwiches, goat cheese and crackers, falafel, straight out of the jar. If I find Loretta doing that, I'd be prouder than the mother of an Ivy Leaguer. Someday.