Mexico produces about 500,000 tons of poblanos, serranos, mirasols, jalapenos, and dozens of other varieties of fresh chilis every year, and this year many of them seem to have ended up on my plate. Chilis are everywhere: a rock group is named after them, superstar chefs are cooking in garish pants decorated with them, and this restaurant critic is sporting a discreet pattern of Maalox stains on her twin set.
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Alex Wohn, chef and part owner of the Blue Iris Cafe, is a confessed “chilihead”; he uses 39 different types of peppers in a kind of cooking he describes as “Santa Fe fare.” Even though the cuisine takes its inspiration from northern Mexico and uses the most and the hottest peppers of all southwestern cooking, it’s not to be confused with the more traditional enchiladas, tamales, barbecue, and chili con carne of Tex-Mex, nor the Arizona version called “Sonoran-style,” which uses milder chilis. Although there are crossovers, and hotter chilis are turning up everywhere, Wohn’s elaboration on Sante Fe style–like “California Mission” cooking, which relies on that state’s abundance of fruits, vegetables, and seafood–is health-conscious. It uses no animal fats and relies on herbs and spices instead of cream sauces for flavor. Frying is done in canola, olive, or peanut oil.
Entrees come with a choice of soup or salad. Although the mixed green salad, which I had with the cafe’s signature tomato-jalapeno vinaigrette, is very good, the soups are too outstanding to pass up. Try the hearty vegetarian black bean soup with chopped onions or the vegetable soup of corn, potatoes, and tomatoes spiked with cilantro and cumin. Depending on the chef’s whim, other choices can include cheddar cheese soup with chipotle peppers or cauliflower au gratin soup.
Battle-of-the-bulge-wise, my net weight gain after each visit was two pounds, about what I deserved for testing cheesecakes. I can’t blame humidity. My hair was fine until the jalapenos curled it. And it wasn’t the salt. Too much salt isn’t what I worry about with a chilihead in the kitchen. Any iris reader worth her salt could see a gastroenterologist in my future.
