Hot Fuzz: A Chipotle-Peach Cocktail

Hot Fuzz: when Margarita meets Fuzzy Navel

Leave it to a Duo from sunny L.A. to heat things up . . .

During last month's Thirsty Thursday Challenge, hosted by the Diva on a Diet at Beach Eats, Chrystal and Amir of The Duo Dishes offered up a victorious beverage with their Pineapple Sage Cocktail. For their winning effort, the toothsome twosome had the privilege of choosing the special ingredient for June's TTC and let's just say they picked a heck of a pickled pepper - jalapeño!

When it comes to cocktails, I am BFFs with Sweet and quite friendly with Sour, but Spicy is a near-total stranger. Luckily, Mr. Noodle was unfazed by the prospect of making a so-hot-it's-cool refreshment and with drink glasses polished, jiggers primed and pouring hand flexed, my fearless Tender of the Bar picked up the Duo's gauntlet with nary a blink. Using tequila as the base liquor was an obvious choice, so to toss it up a bit, I suggested we begin with a relaxed interpretation of the assigned ingredient.

The jalapeño, originating in Mexico's Veracruz region and arguably the most popular chili pepper in the United States, is just one cultivar of the chili species Capsicum annuum, which spans the heat spectrum from the utterly benign bell pepper to the flamingly combustible Chiltepin. Occupying a sweet spot somewhere between lip-tingling and face-melting on the Scoville Organoleptic Scale (the rather subjective standard test for measuring capsaicin, the compound responsible for chilis' heat) these potent pods make an appealing option for both the spice-challenged, looking for a gateway chili to build up their tastebuds, and the old pros who want to keep theirs primed with a dependably fiery standby.

With this little bit about fresh jalapeños, be sure to enjoy their pungent flavor in pico de gallo, as a pepper jelly, or as one of the myriad versions of poppers (stuffed, battered and deep-fried jalapeños) when you get the chance because you won't find them in Team Noodle's concoction today. Still, that's not to say we've violated the rules of the Thirsty Thursday Challenge . . .

Chi-Chi-Chipotle!

What's reddish-brown, shriveled up from lots of smoking but still hot? No, not a sun-worshipping cougar with a pack-a-day habit. I'm talking about chipotles. These earthy-flavored wrinkled forms are smoke-dried jalapeños and are available whole, ground or en adobo (stewed in vinegar, garlic, tomatoes and spices, though there are many variations). Chipotle is one of my favorite seasonings and I often throw a whole pod into stews and soups to add a deep, smoky flavor. When I read that the TTC ingredient for June was jalapeño, I immediately thought of its dried alter ego to use in our favorite drink technique - the liquor infusion. We've gingered gin for Calama-Ginger Sippers and imbued bourbon with rosemary and mint for Bluegrass Iced Tea - now, it's spice time for tequila.

Jalapeño: Before and After

The Unbearable Hotness of Infusing

To our misfortune, however, I overlooked a small yet critical detail: although it is simply another form of jalapeño, the chipotle is actually hotter than a fresh chili, according to the Scoville scale. This may be due to the use of ripened jalapeños or possibly from the smoking process itself, when the pepper's white pith, where all the capsaicin is stored, breaks down and releases all those burning compounds. Whatever the explanation, we seriously underestimated the power of the smoked 'peño.

After soaking a whole chipotle in a glass of tequila for a couple of hours, Mr. Noodle could discern only a slight smokiness. Worried that it would be completely obscured by the other ingredients, I suggested splitting open the pod and letting it steep for another hour. Never again - the resultant spirit was hot. Very hot. Hot as in 'drinking liquid flame'. In other words, it was undrinkably hot. Nursing numbed tongues but much wiser for it, we tried again and this time, I removed the seeds and the remaining pith. To our relief, we finally achieved the earthy flavor and tingly feel that we were hoping for. Back on track, Team Noodle poured, mixed, stirred and sipped until we were satisfied with our entry to this month's Thirsty Thursday Challenge - Jalapeño.

Hot Fuzz 

Given that we were infusing tequila, a margarita seemed the natural choice for a final drink, closely followed by the idea of a spicy peacharita. Why a peach-flavored cocktail? Quite simply, this luscious stone fruit and piquant chili achieve a perfect taste combination of sweet and spicy, and is already a popular pairing in salsas, barbecue sauces and jams. More importantly, the Noodle bar was short on orange liqueur, an essential margarita ingredient. However, we had plenty of peach schnapps and orange juice - the primary ingredients of the Fuzzy Navel. Through necessary improvisation, we combined the elements of margarita with those of FN, fused them with piquant chipotle and ended up with an icy-hot hybrid beverage worthy of summer's most scorching days and coolest nights.

Mr. Noodle said this looked a bit like a petri dish. . . 

Given our liquid experimentations, I suppose it rather is.

Makes 2 drinks

4 oz tequila
1 whole chipotle pod
juice of 2 limes
2 oz peach schnapps
2 oz orange juice
crushed ice

Garnish:
Orange and lime peels (optional)
Chipotle, ground (optional)

Carefully slice open chipotle pod and remove seeds and pith, then steep in tequila for 30 minutes to 1 hour. To increase heat of the drink, leave seeds and pith intact and/or steep for a longer period of time.

Strain the chipotle from tequila (reserving the pod for later use in a dish, if you prefer), then mix the liquor with lime juice and peach schnapps. Stir well to combine.

In two margarita glasses, pour orange juice to fill the bottom bulb (approximately 1 ounce each). Fill glasses almost to the the rim with crushed ice, then pour equal amounts of the infused tequila mix into each glass. Garnish with orange and lime peels, sprinkle with ground chipotle, if desired, and serve.

Peach bottoms up!

Thirsty for more? Then check out the Thirsty Thursday Challenge at Beach Eats for additional jalapeño-spiced refreshments!

Fork in the Road: North Platte Noodles

Roadtrip Dinner Redux: Shichimi-Spiced Soba Noodles

"When you come to a fork in the road - take it." -- Yogi Berra

When the legendary New York Yankees Hall of Famer offered this snippet of sagacity, it was chalked up as yet another nonsensical utterance from a master of malapropism. After all, how can one simultaneously travel two divergent paths? As it turns out, Mr. Berra is as profound in his verbal contortions as his (nick)namesake yoga practitioners are in their meditative poses.

According to conventional wisdom, the symbolic utensil marks, as Wikipedia so eloquently puts it, "a road bifurcation" and signifies the point at which one must choose between two new paths before moving forward. But what if we are approaching from the wrong perspective? What if, instead of looking in the direction where one branch separates into two, we turn toward where two join into one? This is the point of view I chose when faced with updating my blog after an extended hiatus.

At the end of 17 days, 11 states and hundreds of Goldfish crackers consumed, Mr. Noodle and I returned home from our roadtrip in the Big Maroon stuffed with souvenirs and suitcases. I was eager to post stories and photos of our experiences as soon as possible, but I had an important social obligation to consider: For the past couple of months, I've participated in the International Incident Party in which fellow bloggers create a dish based on a theme, such as pizza or dumplings. In a fleeting fit of selfishness, I nearly sent my regrets to our hostess Penny at Jeroxie so that I could focus on travel posts, then reconsidered when it dawned on me that this month's theme is none other than noodles. What a sad, sad day indeed if this Noodle passed on such an eponymous event.

I was forked . . . a blog post has to be written, but would it be for the noodle party or an excerpt from our adventures? As the wise Yogi said, "Take it." So I did - instead of choosing between the two topics, I found a perfect convergence of both.

Roadtrip Dinner Redux: Noodles in Nebraska

The first day of our Wild West Wanderings began with a dash across Minnesota, clipping South Dakota before ending in the city of North Platte, Nebraska - "the place everything that's good happens [sic]". With this promising slogan in mind and still naïvely optimistic about The Plan (my strategy for  healthful vacation eating), Mr. Noodle and I checked into our modest hotel, then went in search of provisions. We were looking for ready-to-serve meals from the local grocery - a rotisserie chicken, perhaps, or a savory soup and salad combination. What we found was a distressing abundance of deep-fried and mayonnaise-soaked food; what we ended up buying were two packages of microwavable udon soup bowls and some pre-cooked salad shrimp. So much for The Plan . . .

Still, such a meal was preferable to the calorie-dense chain restaurant options and was enough to satisfy two desperate appetites. Several weeks later, it provided inspiration for my International Incident Party contribution  and a second chance to turn the memory of a banal bowl of noodles into a sassy dish worth remembering.

Shichimi togarashi (Japanese 7 Spice Seasoning)

It was also an opportunity to make use of a new-to-me ingredient: shichimi togarashi, a tongue-tingling Japanese table condiment commonly used to season soups, noodles, rice, fish and meat. Aside from wasabi and its eye-watering, sinus-clearing pungency, and maki sushi (e.g. tuna, salmon) made with spicy mayo, I was unfamiliar with the use of hot, peppery notes in Japanese cuisine. In fact, this seven spice mixture has been a favorite seasoning since 1625, when it was first created as a medicinal food additive by Yagenbori Shichimi Togarashi, which remains a premier supplier of shichimi today. The company still offers the original blend consisting of dried Satsuma orange peel, fresh and roasted red pepper, sansho (Japanese pepper) and poppy, hemp and black sesame seeds, although other versions on the market use Sichuan peppercorn in place of sansho (the latter is a variant of the former) and may include chopped garlic, ground ginger or nori (dried seaweed) flakes.

With such a storied and intriguing ingredient in hand, I came upon a fork in the road - one way going to the International Incident Party in Melbourne, Australia and another leading to a post about a subpar dinner in North Platte, Nebraska - that happily converged into a single path toward noodle nirvana.

Shichimi-Spiced Soba Noodles with Shredded Parsnips

For this Roadtrip Dinner Redux, I made a dish that I wish we had eaten in North Platte, by swapping out the thick udon and hot miso broth of our microwave meal for delicate soba and a chilled, flavorful dressing inspired by the elements of shichimi togarashi. For some texture, I topped it with blanched shredded parsnip, which added a bit of crispness and a sweet, herb-like taste to the noodles. The result is a spicy-cool dish that offers a light and refreshing alternative to summer's ubiquitous pasta and potato salads.

Serves 2-4

Ingredients

Dressing:
1/2 cup orange juice
1/4 soy sauce
1 Tbsps granulated sugar
2 Tbsps mirin (sweet rice wine for cooking)
2 Tbsps sesame oil
1-2 dashes patis (fish sauce)
1/2 tsp shichimi togarashi 
1/2 tsp ginger - grated or paste

180g soba noodles
1 cup shredded parsnip, blanched

Garnish:
Shichimi togarashi
Black and white sesame seeds
Sprigs of Thai basil

To make:

1. Combine all dressing ingredients in a small bowl and whisk thoroughly until well-blended (I used a hand blender). Refrigerate while preparing noodles and blanching parsnips;
2. Cook soba noodles according to package directions. When done, place in a separate bowl and add blanched parsnip; spoon chilled dressing over and toss until well coated. Return reserve sauce and noodles to the refrigerator if not serving immediately.
3. To serve, divide noodles on 4 plates, sprinkle with shichimi, sesame seeds and top with basil.

I hope you'll enjoy this revisionist taste of our North Platte Noodle experience, which also serves as my contribution to the International Incident Party. For even more noodles of all shapes, sizes and wonderful flavors, please check out the delightful creations of my fellow Partygoers:

• Penny – Jeroxie (Addictive & Consuming) – Homemade ban mian with minced pork and mushrooms
• Christine – Christine’s Recipes – Spicy Pork Mince and Noodles in Crisp Lettuce Cups
• Mardi – Eat, Live, Travel, Write – Ginger scallion & Butter noodles
• Trix – Tasty Trix – Summer ‘Noodles’ with yellow and green zuchinni with cool basil oil tomato sauce
• Shirley – Enriching your kid – Vermicilli Biryani with Tahini
• Natasha – 5 Star Foodie – Homemade Soba Noodles
• Anges – Off the spork – Handpulled noodles at home
• Joanne – Second Helping
• Cherry – Sweet Cherry Pie – Coconut noodles with honey glazed pork belly
• Evelyne - Cheap Ethnic Eatz – Incidental Noodles
• Ms Baklover - Footscray Food Blog – Zha Jiang Mian
• Casey – Eating, Gardening & Living in Bulgari
• Tamar – Koreanfornian Cooking – Tteokbokki
• Billy – Half-Eaten – Pumpkin Miso Noodles in Shitake Dashi Broth
• Nina – Consumed Food Love – Vietnamese Noodle Salad
• Suresh – 3 hungry tummies – Twice cooked pork with rice noodles
• Anh – A food Lover’s Journey – Taco Soba Noodle
• Lori – Wannabe Gourmand – Nonya Curry Laksa

One Fish, Two Fish, Road Trip, Goldfish

On the Go Goldfish

A roadtrip paved with good intentions isn't always a smooth ride.

The last time Mr. Noodle and I went on a long holiday, my metabolism decided to take a break, too, leaving me at the mercy of an unforgiving all-you-can-eat hotel buffet. Two weeks and ten pounds later, I was back at home, unpleasantly plump and determined never to let vacation eating get the best of me again. So, when we recently loaded up the Big Maroon for an epic 17-day roadtrip through the western United States and knowing that our meals would be on the fly, I initiated The Plan [codename: Put Down the Donut].

No fast food joints or hotel buffets, I declared. We would keep our tastebuds at the ready for local specialties, but only to sample and share, not gorge and hoard. We would stop at local groceries to buy yogurts for early breakfast, energy bars for lunch on the go and the Three S's (soup-salad-sandwich) for dinner in our hotel room. Finally, to counter the inevitable muscle atrophy from hours behind the wheel, we would take every opportunity at rest stops, gift shops and scenic overdrops overlooks to stretch, stroll, hike and otherwise make use of our limbs. [At this time, Mr. Noodle would like to make it clear that he had no say in The Plan.]

On paper, it was a solid strategy, but like paper, it flew out the open car window once we put the pedal to the metal.

Dashboard snacks

Get your motor runnin'

Head out on the highway

Lookin' for adventure

And whatever comes our way . . .

"Born to Be Wild"

written by Mars Bonfire & performed by Steppenwolf

The desire to eat healthfully while on holiday ran straight into a favorite Noodle travel ritual - the Sharing of Cheesy, Crunchy Snacks. Early in our marriage, when our finances couldn't yet afford airfare to visit family out of state, my husband and I relied on roadtrips to take us where we needed to go. From North Carolina to Northern Virginia, from Charlotte to Chicago to Atlanta and countless treks in between, a full tank of gasoline and a package of faux-fromage fare were all the fuel we needed. At first, it was Planters Cheez Balls, which dusted the dashboard with Yellow#4 & Red#6 cheddar-ish powder and left bright orange fingerprints on the steering wheel. Nowadays, our meandering munchies of choice are the less messy but no less cheesy Pepperidge Farm Goldfish, beloved treat of stroller-bound tots everywhere and listed as #2 in Time magazine's Nine Kid Foods to Avoid.

So, what's the appeal of this pre-school, post-industrial snack to a peripatetic couple in a much bigger carriage? In a bite, Goldfish are tasty little things. They dull the sharp edge of hunger and stave off cravings until we reach our destination for a 'real' meal. They're perfect for eating with one hand and driving with the other, but still allow for quick reaction when both appendages are needed on the wheel. And they're better than caffeine: when the hypnotic ribbon of road ahead lulls me into drowsiness, nothing else snaps me back to alertness than a burst of sharp processed cheese flavor and the sound of contented crunching.

Although The Plan didn't factor Goldfish in its healthful criteria, that didn't stop us from indulging throughout our trip. I tried swapping them with rice crackers - equally tasty and crisp - but something was missing. They simply could not replicate the true value of the wee cheese fish, which have nothing to do with edibleness or nutrition and everything to do with sentiment.

Goldfish have been our cue that it's time to relax and enjoy; the only time we buy these snacks is when we are traveling. Our vacation truly starts not when we pull out of the driveway or reach our destination, but when that white and orange package is opened and those smiling fish tumble out like pieces of gold. Then, emails, voicemails, bills and blogs are left behind and all that matters is what lays ahead - a delicate rainbow curving over the road after a Nebraska summer shower, moss-covered trees along the Columbia River Gorge or a massive butte jutting into a clear blue Arizona sky.

Goldfish has been one of the special little things that Mr. Noodle and I share. When he neatly places a paper napkin on my lap as if it were the finest linen, then reaches under my arm - careful not to jostle as I steer - to shake out a handful of the crackers, I think that no tuxedo'ed waiter in the fanciest white-cloth restaurant could ever serve a finer meal. And when there's only a small handful left in the bag, we know that our next stop - our next adventure - is not far off.

"Split?" he asks. "It's all yours," I say. There's plenty of Goldfish down the road . . .

The Plan wasn't entirely abandoned during our trip - we picked up locally-produced foods at a couple of farmer's markets, co-ops and even a goat dairy, not to mention a variety of products that I brought home as edible souvenirs. So, I hope you'll join me in the next few weeks as I revisit some of the more memorable food adventures of our Wild West wanderings. Coming up first: North Platte Noodles, a roadtrip dinner do-over.