Mr. Hawthorne's Most Excellent Los Barrios Salsa Ranchera.

I love my summer garden.

Tomatoes, both hybrids and heirlooms, are producing nicely. And I have many types of peppers - sweet peppers, serranos, habaneros, jalapenos, bananas, Anaheims, and probably some more I can't think of. Mr. Hawthorne is preparing Salsa Ranchera tonight, and we'll show you a couple of dishes using it, which I know you'll like. When we were on our trip across country last fall, we stopped in San Antonio and went to lunch at Los Barrios. I blogged about it here. As you know, Mr. Hawthorne and I both love Mexican cuisine. He consulted our Los Barrios Family Cookbook, and picked out the recipe for Salsa Ranchera to make tonight.

Now, if you want the exact recipe, go buy the cookbook. The link is above. I'll just tell you what I watched Mr. Hawthorne do. First he put a bunch of tomatoes in a large saucepan and covered with water. He cooked the tomatoes until the skins start to split. Then he took out the tomatoes with a slotted spoon. He removed the peel and returned the tomatoes to the pan.

Next, he thoroughly mashed the tomatoes.

Assorted chopped chiles and onion. The nice thing about this is you can control the heat by the different peppers you add.

Add to the pot.

Bring to a simmer over low heat. Mr. Hawthorne simmered this for about an hour until it thickened and reduced.

I had to have some of this immediately. On a scoop.

I like this salsa served warm. It makes a great snack with tortilla chips.

But wait, you say. I want to do more with this. How do I do that? Come, Little Grasshopper. I shall show you.

Here's what Mr. Hawthorne did with it. He made a quesadilla.

Mr. Hawthorne had previously prepared his meat mixture. He sauteed hamburger meat (85%/15%) over medium heat and added salt, pepper, onion powder, granulated garlic, and cumin, to taste. Be sure to pour out grease. If you need amounts, I'd say a pound of hamburger, 1/2 tsp freshly ground salt, 1 tsp freshly ground pepper, 1-2 tsp granulated garlic 1-2 tsp onion powder 1 TB cumin. There's your starting point. If you'd like to add in a few shakes of hot sauce, then by all means do so. If you'd like a sprinkling of chili powder, go ahead and throw it in.

Next a few chile peppers and onion.

A few sliced jalapenos.

Mr. Hawthorne squirted a bit of the seasoning packet from a Food Lion Taco Dinner package.

Next, he sliced some type of Mexican cheese for the inside.

Fold over into half-moon shape and pour as little ...

... or as much sauce as you want.

Grate some Monterey Jack over top.

And a little cheddar.

Mr. Hawthorne likes refried beans. I do not. This went into the microwave until the cheese melts. Ours took about 2 minutes.

Top with sour cream and shredded lettuce and dig in.

Now that's a quesadilla.

WWRD?What would Rosie do? Rosie would fry a tortilla. Then she would add the seasoned hamburger, the salsa ranchera, the chiles, the jalapenos, the onions, the cheese. Then she'd melt the cheese under the broiler. And add shredded lettuce.

And serve it up.

Rosie's Too Good To Be Leftovers.

Leftovers does not have to be a bad word.

And leftovers can be quite wonderful.

Case in point:

my Southwestern filling I used for the stuffed pepper.

And Marilyn,

here's an idea for you,

since your palate-challenged family

doesn't like peppers.

I was making my lunch yesterday,

after serving 3 breakfast courses

since the Little Hawthornes

are all on different schedules

and I actually accomodate them.

The Little Hawthornes had eaten breakfast

and headed out in different directions

to points unknown. I had just fried up 3 of these tortillas,

anticipating their return.

I was hungry since I hadn't had time for breakfast yet. As I was finally preparing

to top my tortilla,

two of the Hawthornes of course returned

with huge appetites and one took a big bite out of

my lonely little tortilla sitting on the counter

with no toppings on it.

No. No. NO!

Let me fix a proper tortilla for you.

OK, Mama.

I asked the other Hawthorne if he wanted one too.

No. I don't think so.

So I made one tortilla with the toppings

and served Middle Hawthorne.

Then Youngest Hawthorne looked at his brother's tortilla.

Well, I believe I will have one after all.

So I fixed another.

Now, I'm finally getting ready to fix mine

and Daughter Hawthorne arrives on the scene.

Ooh Mama. That looks good.

Can I have one in a burrito?

So I fixed one in a burrito

and melted cheese on top.

And she told me it was the best burrito

she'd ever had.

And I finally got around to fixing my tortilla.

I made some more of the Southwest stuffing with black beans, rice, corn, tomatoes, chilies, green onions, and cilantro and piled that on top of my tortilla, then topped it with some jalapenos and shredded Pepper Jack cheese and put it under the broiler.

This truly hit the spot. I love the flavor of beans and corn together and every now and then I'd get the bite of the jalapeno and the earthy, refined pond-scum taste of the cilantro. Yes. You read my description of cilantro correctly. Cilantro is one of those things you either love or you hate. There is no in-between. In fact, there's actually a website, I Hate Cilantro, devoted to people's hatred of this devilweed. The site even includes haikus people have sent in proclaiming their disgust of this noxious herb. There is actually a theory that people are genetically predisposed to either like or hate cilantro - no middle ground. And most people who hate it describe it as tasting "like soap." I'm not so sure about this theory because years ago when I first tried cilantro, I too hated it. I didn't describe the taste as "soapy" though. I described it as "tasting like pond scum." And, yes, I know what pond scum tastes like. And, no, I don't eat or serve my family a platter of pond scum. If you must know, when I was little, I used to go swimming in the pond at Daddy's farm and the alga that formed on the surface had a particular aroma to which I likened the taste of cilantro. However, that did not stop me. I continued throughout the years to taste cilantro. Because I really wanted to like it. And now, finally, I love the stuff. Hey, I used to hate bleu cheese too. Now, I love it. But I think that's more of an acquired taste. Even the grande dame of cuisine, Julia Child despised it. I heard her once in an interview with Charlie Gibson on Good Morning America, and he asked her was there anything she didn't like to eat. And Julia was never a food snob. She openly admitted loving Burger King french fries. (Or was it McDonald's? I forget. But BK's fries run circles around McD's.) Anyways, when asked that question, Julia immediately trilled in the way that only the inimitable Julia could trill, "I despise cilantro. If I see it on my plate, I pick it up and throw it on the floor!" So, if you're a cilantro hater, I still love you, just substitute parsley.

And later on, I fixed a cold meatloaf sandwich with butter on an Arnold's Whole Wheat Thin Sandwich Slice. This is comfort food for me. I always let my meatloaf sit for a day before slicing it because I like the almost pate-like texture of the aged loaf. When it comes out of the oven, it's still good, but the texture is too crumbly for my tastes. But this sandwich? So simple yet so good. As I said ... comfort food.