Growing up I remember I used to HATE when my mom made chile rellenos. It wasn’t that I didn’t like them, I actually love chile rellenos… the reason I hated it was that I knew that I would be put to work when it was time to make the meringue.
We didn’t own a stand mixer so that meant I would have to mix the eggs with my mom’s little electric hand mixer. It’s not like it was a lot of work, It was simple really. But I hated the fact that It would take me away from what I really wanted to do, ride my bike with my friends.
Of course now I’m totally thankful for those hours that she pulled me away from playing to help in the kitchen, because I think it influenced my love for food.
So Thank you for torturing me with the hand mixer mom. It made me the food lover I am today.
Oh and by the way, I don’t hate making rellenos anymore, I actually love making these tasty stuffed peppers. And who knows… maybe one day I’ll make my daughter make my meringue for me as well. :)
4- Poblano peppers, charred and peeled
1C- grated pepper jack cheese (you can also use Monterrey jack cheese)
1/2C- all-purpose flour
2- Eggs, with egg whites and egg yolks separated and reserved
2- Large russet potatoes, boiled then mashed
1- Teaspoon salt
1/2C- all-purpose flour for coating
Canola oil for frying
Remove seeds and membranes from peppers by creating a small cut in the pepper. Don’t make it too big or else the stuffing will plop right out. See picture below for an example.
Add cheese and salt to mashed potatoes and mix until well combined.
Stuff each pepper with 3-4 tablespoons of the potato cheese mixture and fasten opening with toothpicks. *See image below
In a mixing bowl, add the egg whites and mix until the meringue forms stiff peaks.
Add the yolks and mix until egg mixture is nice a fluffy.
Pour enough oil in a frying pan to reach 1” depth and heat over medium high heat.
Coat your stuffed poblano in flour, then dip into the egg mixture, allow excess to drip off, and quickly transfer to oil pan.
Fry until lightly browned on all sides.
Remove from fry pan and place on a plate with a paper towel to soak up excess oil.
Serve with the traditional rice and re-fried beans or you can change it up and serve it with a salad or a Mexican succotash like I did.
Chile Relleno-You-Didn’t Burger Season 3, Episode 17: Two for Tina
This burger was more complicated than it was tasty - but it definitely was tasty. Seasoned ground beef & cheese stuffed poblano peppers, grilled, battered and fried served on top of a hamburger, all on a toasted bun.
<b><p></b> <b>Wampus:</b> loud, clear voices; speaking up without fear; clenched jaws; sloppy handwriting; a commanding presence; the first inhale after coming up for air while swimming; strong noses that flare when angered; staying up until 3am laughing with friends; messy buns; strength training; bitten lips; cinnamon; fishnets; muscles shifting under a lover's fingertips; powerful thighs; neon and bright colors; chiles rellenos; that moment right before the free fall on a rollercoaster; scratch marks; the sound of a knife sharpening; fruit infused water; tongues burnt on midday coffee; kisses from big dogs; hair ties breaking; unsettled dust; linking arms; backless dresses; very hot baths; rock climbing; mosh pits; Doc Martens; smudged lipstick; spicy curry; tunnel graffiti; charcoal-stained fingertips; baring teeth; caffeine addiction; wrinkled noses; gasping between passionate kisses; sharp cut creases; holographic knives; 1967 Chevy Impala; heterochromia; the snap of leather; the scent of an extinguished match; hickeys; ripped leggings; inner ear headphones; screaming at the top of your lungs; twists; the sizzle of steak hitting the grill; strobe lights; the anticipation of a bassdrop; new age tattoos; dermal anchors.<p/><b>Thunderbird:</b> tilting faces toward the sun; mountains in the distance; bright smiles; weathered and worn books; hammocks; darjeeling tea; the look of awe and wonder; smirking; wavy hair; paper airplanes; muted nail color; sunkissed highlights; aster flowers and wildflowers; recycling; legs aching from standing and/or moving too long; trailing hands over tree trunks; wide, open spaces; stargazing; hipster fashion without hipster elitism; whistling along to the music in your head; lightning bugs landing on hands; music festivals; Sailor Moon; choker necklaces; abandoned railroad tracks; making custom playlists for friends; lifted pinkies when drinking; crochet braids; space buns; dresses with pockets; morning fog; being unafraid of, or even thrilled about, getting lost; high cheekbones; petrichor; feeling breathless contemplating existence; a light sheen of sweat; septum piercings; blushing from ears to chest; schadenfreude; OTEs; power lines; burnt marshmallows; accidentally dropping food on shirts; horizontal bamboo blinds; tripping over words around attractive people; vintage suitcases; reading field journals; Long Island iced tea; maypoles; handmade flower crowns; serendipity; elote; Volkswagen vans; bathhouses; windblown hair; pastel hair; homemade granola; picking up bits and pieces of language while traveling.<p/><b>Pukwudgie:</b> herbal tea; warm, fond smiles; dimples; brown eyes; being underestimated; thick blankets; humming along to music playing in the background; journaling; macadamia nuts; the sound of cicadas; tracing hands over tall grass; tight hugs; peaches; tiny, dainty tattoos; naturally long eyelashes; muddy hemlines; elderberry wine; holding hands; jumping as high as possible on a trampoline; rain pattering on a window; succulents; crystals; terrariums; bangles; flannel shirts; tear tracks; powder-lined cat eyes; finding an onion ring in your fries; balloons; throwing autumn leaves in the air; honey bees; stickers; apple cider; crickets chirping; damp cotton; Ford Farlaines; hide and seek; an unnoticed stumble; sunlight reflected on lake water; Eskimo kisses; ice cream melting over fingers; the twitching of squirrels' tails; raw spider silk; headwraps over natural hair; tapping toes to the beat; "Christian cussing" around children; competitive sand castle building; fiercely protecting others' autonomy; bunny teeth; dulce de leche; harmonizing; grass stains; gardening; gel pens; absolutely losing it to memes; angel bite piercings; naturally pink cheeks; the countdown before taking the plunge; freshly clipped nails; rushing to aide someone having a panic attack.<p/><b>Horned Serpent:</b> narrowed eyes and pursed lips; box braids; stacks of nonfiction books; satire; forehead kisses; hands gently caressing cheeks; helvetica; a collection of partially filled notebooks; a face softening in realization; diffused light; bitten nails; eavesdropping; Earl Grey tea; fencing; the sound of the A/C kicking on; A-line dresses; freshly shaved legs against cool, clean sheets; glass ceilings; minimalist tattoos; sketchbooks; cursing when spilling coffee over your notes; plum lipstick; thick-rimmed glasses; vindication; neutral tones; smudged makeup from rubbing eyes during an all-nighter; button-up shirts; aching fingers and wrists; taking a break from a project only to realize hours have passed; Cadillac Broughams; julienne cut vegetables; fish tacos; ankle socks; being 10 minutes early; origami; spiral staircases; soft smiles watching children learn; flyaway hairs; finger-walking on metal desks; mint ice cream; having a 10 or more kill streak; pressed flowers; silhouettes; the crunch of biting into an apple; limericks; sake; Frank Sinatra; lighthearted debates that turn into yelling matches; sphinx cats; pastel hair; deadbolts; elaborate mosaics; nostril piercings; YInMn blue.<p/></p><p/></p>
I grew up Chicana, both my parents are Mexican but I was born and raised in the U.S. Despite being raised in a ‘traditional’ Mexican way I grew up in a very Americanized household. My parents adopted the American way of life and I always felt like I missed out on lots of the traditions but I tried my best to embrace the ones my parents showed me.
I grew up speaking Spanish, my parents knew enough English to get by but they never felt comfortable teaching it to me, so I learned it in school. I was lucky to have some wonderful English language teachers in kindergarten and by second grade I was fluent in both languages. I remain fluent in both today and it does affect the way I speak both English and Spanish, there are some sounds and words that I can’t say correctly, no matter how hard I try. In English any word with the letter ‘z’ always sounds funny when I say it because I pronounce it with an ‘s’ sound. In Spanish I forget to accent certain words or accent them in the wrong spot, but most people don’t notice.
There’s also Spanglish, which is just a mixture of the two. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, it just happens when I forget a word or can’t figure out how to translate it while I’m talking. I personally just add some vowels and an ‘s’ (sometimes) to the end of an English word but there are no actual rules I’ve heard of. I use it on a daily basis but I get teased by my parents if I use it too much. “Did you forget Spanish while you slept?” They’d rather I speak one full language than half of two.
I only speak Spanish at home and English everywhere else.
Home life was always a little different. Both my parents worked (my mom in the afternoons and my dad in the mornings) so I saw them separately on most days. The only days we were all together were Saturdays. My parents didn’t really worry too much about what I did as long as I didn’t let my grades drop, which was fine.
Grades were always really important to them and they celebrated every diploma I received.
My mom wasn’t a very adventurous cook so for a large part of my childhood we ate a combination of rice and beans with carne asada or chicken. On the weekends my mom would make some chiles rellenos, or another more involved dish. Most of the food was Mexican with the occasional hamburger or pizza thrown in. We had tortillas and salsa with every meal and I was encouraged to eat my food with the tortilla but I always refused.
I didn’t like the taste and never picked up the habit of eating like a ‘real Mexican’. It did cause a few problems whenever I visited family down in Mexico because not eating with tortilla is considered rude, especially if they heated them up for you on the skillet. One of the unspoken dinner rules is that you have to finish everything on your plate, otherwise you’ll be considered a picky eater.
As I grew we began to incorporate more American and European foods into our dinners. Casseroles, lasagnas, pastas, and more along those lines. By the time I was in high school it was rare for us to eat an exclusively Mexican meal.
I am white passing and it always annoyed me that non-Hispanic friends just couldn’t believe it. They’d usually say something like “You don’t look Mexican” which is very common and lots of poc have heard a variation of it. My name isn’t very Hispanic sounding (first or last) but I would often go out of my way to show I was Mexican by wearing something culturally relevant to me (examples: Mexican soccer jersey during the World Cup) or by simply stating it. I never hid it and I would always Spanish words correctly so it always shocked me that people had a hard time believing I was Mexican.
In the U.S. I was Chicana, I could call myself Mexican and no one would say I wasn’t, but in Mexico it was a different story. I was a gringa in Mexico and I was called out for every American thing I did. If I didn’t eat with tortilla I was accused of not being Mexican enough. Most of these were said by people I had just met or by friends of family members, never by complete strangers.
Most were mild and easy to brush off but a few were harsher. I had a person say straight to my face that they hated gringos and that I should just go back to my country. The first time someone said that to me was surreal because I’d heard it once before in the U.S. (it was the opposite, of course) and to have it said to me in the country I originated from was shocking.
The only identity issue I really had was figuring out what to call myself. I was Mexican, yes, but I was also American, but I didn’t feel like I was enough of either one to actually pick. Plus, picking made me feel uncomfortable, like I was turning my back on part of myself. When people ask now, I usually just say Chicana and if they ask what that means I tell them what it is and most people don’t question it. I like it because there are some experiences that Chicanos have that aren’t really shared by Mexicans and I think it’s important to acknowledge them even if it means there will always be a little divide between the two cultures.
Things I’d like to see more of
Latinx characters who are proud to belong to two cultures and don’t favor one over the other.
Latinx characters who are more aware of their culture than their parents (it happens!).
Latinx characters of varying skin tones (preferably in the same story).
Latinx characters having interests beyond their cultural ones.
Latinx characters who struggle with juggling more than one language
Things I’d like to see less of
Latinx characters always being the party people
Latinx characters always being the sexy ones (like maybe give them something else besides just sexiness?)
Latinx characters who are always humble (I wanna see latinxs who are conceited and stuck up and preppy so I can love to hate them as characters )
I see people here prepping food for the upcoming work week. It seems like a good idea. So I made a bunch of turkey meatballs, roasted a chicken and made stock, made chiles rellenos for Monday’s dinner and packed lunches for the week.
And I feel like I lost my whole day. You go getters can have it.
i’m watching the Iron Chef Gauntlet finale because my icon chef izard has to win and the first round is peppers? so i was like ‘oh someone should make chile relleno’ and now bobby flay is plagiarizing me before my eyes