Salsa Borracha — When Bold Flavor Is the Only Honest Answer

Baton Rouge spring — azaleas blooming in front yards. Anatomy lab three days this week. The cadaver work is what they say it is. I am holding up.

Drove to Baker Saturday morning. MawMaw Shirley was at the stove already. We made gumbo. Thirty-five minutes of roux. The lesson keeps unfolding. Tanya called Sunday. We talked recipes. She asked about my schedule. We do not talk about DeAndre directly. We never do. We talk around it.

Jambalaya. The Robinson Monday tradition. Andouille, chicken, the trinity, rice cooked in the pot. One pan. Fed everyone.

Came home from the clinic and made dinner. The standard.

Sunday service at Bethany. The choir sang. The pastor preached on Hannah and Samuel. I sat with Tanya and Marcus. The hymn at the end was the one Mama used to hum. I cried into the bulletin. Standard.

Daddy sent me an Amazon receipt accidentally Sunday. He bought a power tool I do not understand. Standard. He texted twenty minutes later, "wrong thread, sorry baby." I told him don't worry about it. He said thank you. The exchange was the exchange.

I sent MawMaw a photo of my gumbo Tuesday. She replied, "too light, baby, keep stirring." She has not changed the critique in twelve years. The critique is the love.

I drove past the gas station where DeAndre died. I do not stop. I do not avoid it either. The drive past is the drive past. He is twenty-eight in my head. He stays twenty-eight.

I texted Kayla about her latest design portfolio Tuesday. She is good. She has Tanya's directness and Daddy's eye for proportion. The design field will know her name eventually.

Driving past the Scotlandville house Sunday afternoon, the one Daddy rebuilt after the flood. The house is solid. The house is the house. I see the watermark from the flood every time I look at the foundation. We do not paint over it. We let it tell the story.

Crawfish boil at a friend's place Saturday. Twenty-five pounds. The shells filled three trash bags. Standard Louisiana spring. We sat at the picnic table for four hours. The corn was the best of the boil. The corn always is.

DeAndre's birthday came around again. I made his favorite — andouille and chicken in brown gravy. I ate two bowls. I called Aunt Renee. We did not say much. We did not need to. The food was the saying.

Tanya's tomatoes were in this week. She brought a sack. I made a sandwich for lunch every day for four days. Heirloom tomato, white bread, mayo, salt. The summer lunch. The simplest pleasure of summer.

Reading something light at night. A novel by a Louisiana writer. The voice was familiar. The voice was home. The book ended on a small kindness. I appreciated that.

I sat on the porch Saturday afternoon with iced tea. The neighbor's kids were playing kickball. The Louisiana evening is its own kind of Sabbath. The cicadas were starting up. The light was the gold-going-blue light of the southern dusk.

MawMaw Shirley's recipe cards in the wooden box on the kitchen counter. I copied another one Saturday morning at her kitchen table. The collection is growing. She watched me copy. She corrected my Cs. She has always corrected my Cs.

Daddy called Sunday afternoon. He is sixty-something and his knees are still bad and he still has not gotten the second one replaced. I am working on him. He is working on me to stop working on him. We are at an impasse. The impasse is the love.

Tanya brought a casserole over Wednesday. The Tanya casserole. Half went into the freezer. The other half fed me Wednesday and Thursday. Mama's casseroles are the silent backup of my entire adult life.

Jambalaya is the Robinson Monday tradition — one pan, the trinity, andouille, rice cooked all the way down in the pot — but the recipe I keep coming back to when I need to feel something deliberate is this Salsa Borracha, because it requires patience the same way roux does: toasting dry chiles until they bloom, letting dark beer carry the smoke, not rushing it. DeAndre’s birthday came around again this year and I cooked his favorites, and when the week was done I found myself reaching for something with its own kind of depth. MawMaw Shirley says the critique is the love. This salsa says the same thing — it has nothing to hide behind.

Salsa Borracha

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 25 min | Total Time: 40 min | Servings: 10 (about 2 cups)

Ingredients

• 5 dried pasilla chiles, stems and seeds removed
• 2 dried ancho chiles, stems and seeds removed
• 1 cup dark Mexican beer (such as Negra Modelo)
• 4 cloves garlic, unpeeled
• 1/2 white onion, roughly chopped
• 2 roma tomatoes, halved
• 1 tablespoon vegetable oil
• 1/2 teaspoon dried oregano
• 3/4 teaspoon kosher salt, plus more to taste
• 1/4 teaspoon black pepper

Instructions

1. Toast the chiles. Heat a dry cast-iron skillet or comal over medium heat. Press each dried chile flat against the surface for 10—15 seconds per side until fragrant and slightly puffed. Do not let them blacken or they will turn bitter.
2. Soak the chiles. Transfer toasted chiles to a bowl and pour the dark beer over them. Let soak for 15 minutes until softened and pliable. Reserve the soaking liquid.
3. Char the aromatics. In the same skillet over medium-high heat, add the unpeeled garlic and tomato halves cut-side down. Char for 4—5 minutes, turning once, until softened and darkened in spots. Peel the garlic once cool enough to handle.
4. Soften the onion. Add the vegetable oil to the skillet and cook the chopped onion over medium heat for 5—6 minutes until translucent and lightly golden at the edges.
5. Blend the salsa. Add the soaked chiles, charred garlic, tomatoes, softened onion, oregano, salt, and pepper to a blender. Pour in 1/2 cup of the chile-beer soaking liquid. Blend on high for 60—90 seconds until very smooth.
6. Taste and adjust. Pour into a bowl and taste for salt. Add more soaking liquid a tablespoon at a time if the salsa is thicker than you like. The flavor deepens after 30 minutes of rest.
7. Serve or store. Serve at room temperature alongside grilled meats, eggs, or anything that can hold up to a bold, smoky sauce. Store covered in the refrigerator for up to one week.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 42 | Protein: 1g | Fat: 2g | Carbs: 6g | Fiber: 2g | Sodium: 148mg