Little chiles of fire from the Mexican state of Guanajuato.
Made-up, but descriptive name . . . as is "gorditas"—little fatties—which I was calling them.
First one to get beyond green. The pod, sans stem, measured 13/16 of an inch. Coworker, Jaime, was generous enough to share some chiles, and this plant grew from seed from those pods (which had descended from peppers brought back from Guanajuato). Pretty neat.
The plant is about 3[sup] [/sup]1/2 feet tall and sports an umbrella canopy of nearly that diameter. The chiles show a point-up growth orientation.
The peppers really exude chile essence; cutting and sniffing kinda tells you they're going to kick you in the tonsils (or tonsil holes). I minced the red pepper (most seeds retained) into a bowl of pasta, cheese, peas, and sausage and found I wanted to pause between forkfuls. The heat is more sustained than that from my chiltepin "bird chiles", the wild chile of Texas.
Posing on a wild sunflower stalk
Even if these turn out to be garden variety Mexican ditch chiles, they still feel exotic to me, and they perform very well in toast-and-blend salsas (which also get called "chiles" in Fort Worth). I'm in awe of the vigor of the plant and pleased by the friendly way in which it came to thrive 1000 miles north of where its "grandplants" were raised.
Made-up, but descriptive name . . . as is "gorditas"—little fatties—which I was calling them.
First one to get beyond green. The pod, sans stem, measured 13/16 of an inch. Coworker, Jaime, was generous enough to share some chiles, and this plant grew from seed from those pods (which had descended from peppers brought back from Guanajuato). Pretty neat.
The plant is about 3[sup] [/sup]1/2 feet tall and sports an umbrella canopy of nearly that diameter. The chiles show a point-up growth orientation.
The peppers really exude chile essence; cutting and sniffing kinda tells you they're going to kick you in the tonsils (or tonsil holes). I minced the red pepper (most seeds retained) into a bowl of pasta, cheese, peas, and sausage and found I wanted to pause between forkfuls. The heat is more sustained than that from my chiltepin "bird chiles", the wild chile of Texas.
Posing on a wild sunflower stalk
Even if these turn out to be garden variety Mexican ditch chiles, they still feel exotic to me, and they perform very well in toast-and-blend salsas (which also get called "chiles" in Fort Worth). I'm in awe of the vigor of the plant and pleased by the friendly way in which it came to thrive 1000 miles north of where its "grandplants" were raised.
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