At about 9:30 the night before the contest, we remembered that the salsa still needed to be made. As John gathered the ingredients, we realized we had no cilantro (not even dried - what the hell kind of Texans are we??). John made it anyway, and assured me that it tasted fine without. Seeing as how I couldn't really vouch for the taste of it (the proof being in the pudding/salsa, SEE WHAT I DID THERE), I didn't entertain my usual trash-talk with the other competitors, instead humbly submitting my wares along with the other 10-ish contestants.
Despite the odds, and to his suprise and my great pride, John won first place! I guess that man's good for something.
Behold, the prize:
Would you like to touch my giant pepper?
Behold, the recipe:
John's Two-Foot-Inflatable-Jalapeno-Winning Salsa
2 jalapenos (3 if you like the heat)
1 medium-sized onion
2 whole cloves fresh garlic
Cilantro (ed. note: optional, apparently)
1 can of diced tomatoes
1/2 tsp dried cumin (or to taste)
Black pepper, to taste
Heat sauce pan over medium to medium high heat. Add ~1/2c water.
Cut tops off jalapenos, cut in half lenghtwise (leave the ribs and seeds).
Give onion and garlic a rough chop.
Tear off enough leaves of cilantro to suit your taste.
Throw the ingredients into the pan. Cover, and let it all steam for about 15 minutes. Go drink a beer. Shake the pan sometimes to stir things up.
After the ingredients have cooled for a couple of minutes, dump it all in a blender (water, too). Add the can of tomatoes (juice, too), cumin, and pepper.
Pulse 2 or 3 times until it reaches desired consistency.
Refrigerate overnight.
2 comments:
When I saw the picture initially, I was like, "Oh, God, what is G going to do with that giant pepper in her house? That's just the kind of thing J would love and she would have to tolerate."
Then you said it was inflatible, and the world righted itself and all was well.
Damn, how can you win a salsa contest with NO cilantro? That's rad. And ninja.
Side note: My mother in law is crazy allergic to cilantro.
Also, I like your kitchen.
The end.
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