A food pilgrimage, like heading to the Meccas in DenCO (aka known as Green Chile stands in Denver, Colorado), which sprout up on Federal Boulevard and usually allow for patronage though the month of September,
like in music, and religion, is a long journey or search of great moral significance. The great thing about a food pilgrimage is that delicious meals are guaranteed to come of your campaign, both during…(Pho for breakfast!)…and once you bring your booty home, cyrovac’d by trained professionals.

Reminded that it is now Fall and faced with the geographic dilemma of living in Santa Barbara (no leaves don’t change here), where not only is our county dry as compared to say Boulder, CO (I mean as far as Anaheim or Hatch Green Chile are concerned), Dan and I mulled over a number of options of how we were going to score Green Chile (GC) this year. Last year we tapped one of our favorite Uncles living near the source in New Mexico, who magically turned two Liters of Walnut Oil into a box of Hatch Green Chiles on our front porch. We were thankful for that box last year, but it seems to only have compounded our addiction as this year our GC plans ballooned into a pilgrimage of a slightly different magnitude.

We discussed a special road trip. Then maybe a flight followed by a road trip back. In the end we settled on sending one representative, via a Canada Regional Jet to purchase, peel, bag, and return with as much GC as allowed by TSA.

So what is that measure? How many peppers are we talking about? Or better yet, how will one know when they are standing at Mecca how much to ask for? Best to send the representative who can speak in “bushels” not “pounds” and certainly not “Liters”. But wait, what the Hell is a Bushel? To which you and I can now reply with its many equivalents:

• 1 Bushel = $15 ($25 if you head to Pueblo, CO pronounced “pway-low”)
• 3 Bushels = 25 lbs
• 6 bushels = 8 hours of your life in front of a sink
• 6 bushels = a clogged drain and unhappy Adam (sorry duder!)
• 6 bushels = 1 checked baggage ($23 if you check in online)
• 6 bushels = 1 box of latex gloves (lightly powdered)
• 6 bushels = 1 year of  GC “aromes” in your sister’s car (Thanks SheShe!)

Any GCP (Green Chile Pilgrimage) requires a destination of either New Mexico or Colorado. Last year we sourced our chiles from New Mexico, so this year with a wedding invitation in beautiful Confier, CO (from Andrew & Rebecca) our destination was set. One stupid-cheap flight ($150 direct SB – DenCO with Frontier) later, and I (the lucky representative) found myself knee-deep in peeled green chile skins flooding one of my sister’s restaurants.

The day had started outstandingly well…a serious cup of Iranian Tea with my boy Omid, Pho for breakfast at Pho 79 -complete with a Vietnamese Coffee, plans of Ban Mai (that is Sheila pointing out the “special combination” at Bakers Palace -an assortment of, well, probably pig served on a bun) for lunch with another Vietnamese iced coffee, but now with “crushed ice”!

and all the GC once can pack into a car awaiting us at the corner of Federal and Louisiana (I love the street-view image of this corner by the way): View Larger Map

Before I discuss how I managed to flood Sheila’s kitchen and consequently Adam’s office, let me first relay some real knowledge dropped from my dad (the man who makes this pilgrimage every year Fort Collins to “pway-low” and returns with no less than 10 bushels -this dude is serious). He recommends scoring the “Pueblo” varietal rather than the “famous Hatch” GC. I would have to concur, the Pueblos are for those who appreciate some heat (spice) with consistency throughout the harvest. Don’t get me wrong, the Hatch varietal is top-notch, but a lot of anecdotal evidence suggests that the range of capsaicin levels can vary dramatically throughout the Hatch harvests and a bag of “Dynamite” could sneak into your freezer.

I didn’t need to take my chances with the Hatch GC, instead after chatting up “mi senorita” at the chile stand about coming out from Cali just to bring back the best green chiles, she wasn’t going to let me leave with anything but 6 bushels of the Pueblo variety…

Seeing these dudes work, you know they are totally pro. Envision the sound of a jet engine mixed with corn popping and a set of “aroms” filling the air that just speak fall. A rotisserie steel-drum with a torch, and a dedicated chute that shoots the GC into a trash bag. Minutes later the transaction is complete and you are stuffing your sweating chiles into your car.

Of course, I had completely underestimated the time commitment of peeling, bagging, and freezing 6 bushels, which I only later realized as I finished bagging the last 25lbs hours before my flight back to SB. I don’t recommend doing this. I do recommend a box of latex gloves, and a “food-saver” or a grip of ziplock bags to hold all of the peeled peppers, an industrial sink and a well ventilated work area.

I scored all of the above accommodations thanks to my sister (let me just say Sheila rocks). With a 12 foot long triple sink, a box of latex gloves, and 6 trash bags of GC I set to work peeling my life away.

With a kitchen full of foodies, no matter what location, but especially so in Jax, everybody peppered me with their stories of Green Chile memories as they came by to check my progress and sample this years crop. At least initially. Once I was pushing hour 4, crusty-sleeved, runny-nose, and blurry eyes, everyone instead looked over and just shook their head in pity. At hour 6, I at last caught a shout out from Adam, “dedicated, dude, dedicated”.  And then it happened… I had been mindful of pausing every so often to unplug the sink from all the skins I had removed, push the guts, veins and remaining skins through the sink and continue, but what I hadn’t done was look down lately (I chalk it up to the intense flavors causing a sort of tunnel vision an all-consuming focus on the task at hand). About 5 bushels (I had to be on the last one) of GC seeds were now floating across the floor riding a lake of water as it spread all around me. Fuck. That is about all I could say as I sloshed out from the behind the wall of green chiles I had amassed and looked around the corner as the lake continued to flow charting new borders into Adam’s office.

I grabbed Coy (the dishwasher) and we set to work removing the filter in the floor (nice design by the way). Moments later we had restored flow and I got to play with a squeegee. With a functioning sink I knocked out the last bushel before the kitchen closed. I threw my crunchee-sleeved t-shirt straight in the trash and enjoyed a custom Jax burger (topped with fired oysters) and a cold one at the bar. The beer and a burger were delicious both of which helped me relish the fact that the next day I would be checking one of the most important pieces of luggage on that Denver-to-Santa Barbara flight.

Pilgrimage complete, but only because of the support from the DenCO crew. Sheila for housing me and letting me live my fantasy of working in a world class restaurant (if only peeling green chiles for the rest of my life), The Jax crew: Adam, for being so class even with an ocean of green chile water on your office floor (& Coy for helping me un-plug that shit!); Scanner (Rocking the Choco & Cheese), Matteo (Happy 21st B-day!), Laura, “Big JO”, and Jared, for tolerating all the GC aroms; Riley for the fresh “Deep Bay” oysters; and Josh & Jess (Vanilla-on-Vanilla cupcakes) for the stiff drinks after 8 hours of peeling. Much love and respect.