viva Mexico

I remember idly squabbling once with an ex about the contributions Mexico had made to the world. He was of the opinion that Mexico, as a country and a culture, had not pulled its artistic weight. I strongly disagreed. I felt that the creation of Mexican food, one of the joys of my life and one of the world's great and distinctive cuisines, was good enough. On top of that, there are the amazing Aztec ruins of the Yucatan, all the Dia de los Muertos art, author Juan Rulfo (I read "Pedro Paramo" in college), and of course all the other things I am too ignorant to be able to recite off the top of my cabeza. Let us all take a moment, a silent moment, and ponder the wonders of Mexico, perhaps humming a merry Mexican tune as we do.

Now! As part of my esteem for Mexican food, I love fresh salsas. I went through a bit of a pepper craze with my ex-husband, reading about peppers, subscribing to "Chile Pepper" magazine, and gradually obliterating our taste buds until we could eat habanero peppers without reaching for a water glass. During that time, we visited the Yucatan, and we were so happy to get freshly made salsas everywhere. At every meal, we were presented a little dish with a salsa composed of sliced peppers, lime juice, perhaps some onion, and a bit of vinegar, and these were unfailingly delightful.

Once we got a rare compliment from a waiter in Merida. He served us a delightful salsa which was basically just some little slices of habaneros floating in a lime vinaigrette, served in a saucer, and we devoured it and called for more. This waiter told me we were the only gringos he had ever seen who could eat like a Mexican, and we puffed up with pride. (This compliment was up there with the time the Spanish customs official told me I was the only foreigner to ever correctly pronounce "Algeciras" in all his years at the border. Yes, I may never achieve anything on a large scale, but if you ever need anyone to assist you in saying "Algeciras", you may as well call me).

Aside from being a culinary pleasure, fresh salsa is truly one of the world's under-appreciated health foods. My own husband is not much for eating vegetables, but he will devour anything served to him in salsa form. If he's been eating a lot of junk food, I'll make him a big bowl of salsa, and I know for the next few days, he'll be snacking steadily on raw vegetables. (Oh, the stealthiness of a spouse. I have a largeish life insurance policy on the man, but I'd prefer to keep him healthy). Whether one follows the new raw foods trend or, like me, one tries to "eat the colors of the rainbow" and make sure not to have a plate covered with beige food all the time, salsa does the trick. A junk-food lover, someone who eschews all salads, will dive into a dish of salsa and get several servings of vegetables, particularly if there are good chips and beer (I like Negra Modelo the best of the Mexican beers).

Disappointingly enough, salsa in the U.S. tend to be just bowls of tomatoes, often not even fresh, with a little onion and maaaaybe a little bit of cilantro. I don't really like raw tomatoes, and so I tend to say, "Salsa on the side" when ordering and just pick at it sadly. However, I realize that I'm in the minority on my views about tomatoes.

Aside from the joys of spiciness and healthiness, fresh salsa has a most ego-gratifying effect: people are invariably astonished that you made the salsa. It is extremely easy to make a basic salsa; you just chop up some things and throw them into a bowl. Most people, however, would never think of making a salsa and are used to crappy canned or jarred dips, and they are amazed to be served a real salsa. "You didn't make this! You made this?? Omigod, how did you make this?" You could serve them a perfect souffle and they'll treat it as though it took the same effort as warming up a TV dinner, but a fresh salsa is a show-stopper.

Here's a basic salsa which everyone but me loves (if I'm pleasing myself, I'll go to more trouble and roast the tomatoes or make a tomatillo salsa or something else more exotic and troublesome, but so often in life, my own pleasure takes a backseat. I often make this salsa because it's so easy and so popular). Take this to a get-together, along with a bag of Tostitos, and prepare to soak up the praise.

Salsa Mexicana from "The Great Salsa Book" by Mark Miller (Ten Speed Press 1994)

2 T finely diced white onion
8 Roma tomatoes (about 1 lb) diced
2 serrano chiles, finely diced, with seeds (if you can't find serrano chiles, you may substitute 1 largeish jalapeno)
2 T finely chopped fresh cilantro leaves
1 tsp sugar
1 tsp salt
1 T fresh lime juice (do NOT use Rose's bottled lime juice!!! If you do and I hear about it, well...)

Place onion in a strainer, rinse with hot water, and drain. Thoroughly combine all ingredients in a mixing bowl. Taste; add a little more sugar if the tomatoes are acidic, but not so much that the salsa tastes sweet. Chill in the refrigerator for at least 30 minutes before serving to allow the flavors to combine.