 | 
Go Back To Previous Page
 Salsa: Flavor-Charged and Increasingly Chic
By Carole Kotkin, Wine News Magazine
Salsa, Mexico's humble "sauce," crossed the border decades ago, and has since inspired countless permutations. Besides its savory-to-sweet versatility, accenting a dish with a companionable melange of diced fruits and vegetables is a healthful way to capture the bounty of summer gardens. Wide exposure, easy access and creative, vibrant variations have all conspired to weave this malleable condiment seamlessly into the fabric of our culinary culture.
Specialty bottled versions concocted by celebrity chefs have further powered its popularity. Indeed, Americans now spend more money on the zesty sauce than any other dip, spread or topping. In fact, salsa outsells ketchup in terms of consumer dollars spent. "Certainly salsas offer much more excitement than old reliable ketchup," says John Roberts, president of the National Association for the Specialty Food Trade. "There are now more than 380 upscale salsa brands on the market," he notes, "and at the Fancy Food Show in July, more than 2,000 individual salsas were offered." Based on these figures, one can surmise that those who don't have at least one bottle of prepared salsa in the pantry are part of a distinct minority.
Moreover, the country's growing Hispanic population has heightened the broadening interest in regional Mexican cuisine, the flavors of Latin America and traditional Spanish fare. Indeed, Mexican and Southwestern foods have become such a signature of American culture that the first Latin American culinary awards took place in Beverly Hills this summer.
But despite its heritage, salsa has outgrown its Hispanic roots. Concoctions made with papaya, pineapple, mango, black beans, olives, ginger, basil, lemon grass and chili oil, to name several examples, now appear alongside the traditional salsa fresca, which essentially comprises fresh tomatoes, onion, chilies, cilantro and lime juice. Given the global ingredients, some of today's salsas bear more kinship to the condiments of Southeast Asia or the West Indies than to Latin America. Indeed, the resourceful instincts that spawned salsa fresca in the first place also inspired similar unions in other cuisines, evidenced in the sambals from Indonesia and Malaysia, the chutneys from India, pesto from Italy, tapenade from France and even harissa from Morocco.
In the Mexican kitchen, salsa has been an indispensable element since the Aztec civilization. Many regional varieties encompass both cooked and uncooked versions. What they have in common is the explosion of bright flavors, distinct but perfectly balanced, that each produces.
North Americans first embraced these simple mixtures, ranging in heat from mild to fiery, as a dip for tortilla chips and eventually adapted them as ready companions for main dishes, marinades for grilled foods and bases for stews and soups - mimicking their uses in Central America.
We took to them for a variety of reasons, among which they're low in fat, cholesterol and calories, and their bold flavors are ideally suited to Americans' favorite summer pastime - barbecuing. They also possess transformative properties, a welcome asset for wine lovers who wish to add earthy intensity, smoky nuance or fruit character to a plain piece of broiled fish.
The single most identifiable element of salsa is the chili pepper - so much so that it's a chief consideration when attempting to pair wine with a chili-driven, salsa-accented dish. "Chilies have the wonderful quality of bringing all foods to life, which is probably why they are the most widely used seasoning in the world," notes Chef-author Mark Miller, the proprietor of a string of Southwestern cuisine-based restaurants, foremost among them the Coyote Cafe (Santa Fe). Chef Susan Feniger of Border Grill (Los Angeles) fame adds, "Although chili peppers are enjoyed the world over, chilies have been misunderstood as an ingredient, perhaps because of their striking heat."
When composing a meal centered around wine, one should proceed cautiously. Because most of a chili's heat can be found in the inner membranes of the pod, one can achieve piquancy rather than searing spiciness by scooping out the seeds and the veins beforehand. A chili's heat will vary according to the season, too, so an astute cook will cut into a pepper, touch their fingertip to the cut surface, taste it and then adjust the quantity accordingly.
Usually, the smaller the pepper, the more intense the heat. Red indicates a ripe and probably sweet chili. "If you stop to appreciate chilies, you'll start to notice a wide range of exotic flavors," Feniger says. "From snappy, sparkly jalapenos to smoky chipotles (dried and smoked jalapenos) and earthy poblanos and anchos (dried poblanos), chilies are a light, healthful way to bring a range of strong, new flavors to salsas." Often rehydrated in hot water before use, dried chilies have a different taste and texture from fresh chilies; the two are not used interchangeably. But both fresh and dried chilies can be toasted to transform their flavor and texture.
Indeed, subtlety is not a general trait of these sauces. All successful salsa variations include a number of intense, loudly competing flavors - some sweet, some sour, some hot, some earthy - that seem to tantalize every taste bud at the same time. Neither is a refined cooking technique a valuable commodity when it comes to salsas. Most require no more than chopping and stirring or, at most, a few minutes' use of a saucepan or a food processor. Uncooked salsas preserve the heat in the peppers. Cooked salsas usually require a three-step process of heating (by boiling, broiling, sautéeing or roasting), puréeing and then straining.
Like most Americans, even wine lovers are turning up their thermometers and enjoying the salsa heat. More citrusy salsas work well with white wines such as Chablis and Sauvignon Blanc that show similar lime, grapefruit and pineapple flavors; Gewurztraminer, with its sometimes spicy and sometimes floral traits, makes a good match as well. Wines with an inherent spiciness, such as Syrah and Zinfandel, can partner with earthy, somewhat piquant salsas, especially if the chilies are smoky.
Much in the way one learns about wine, discovering the perfect complement is often a trial-and-error process. What is clear is that both professional chefs and savvy home cooks are exploring combinations that reach far beyond the simple salsa frescas that started the trend. We're now chopping up chilies, cucumbers, fungi and fruits, and using them in combinations that were unimaginable just a few years ago.
Much like pizza before it, salsa first went mainstream and then upscale. And surely no chef has more clearly defined salsa or done more to bring it to prominence than Miller, whose original Coyote Cafe in Santa Fe subsequently inspired a sister restaurant in Las Vegas and Red Sage in Washington, D.C. He has also brought the Southwest pantry into the American home with the creation in 1992 of the Coyote Cocina line of specialty salsas, marinades and hot sauces.
Armed with a degree in anthropology, Miller champions the foods of his adopted region in his bestselling restaurant cookbooks Coyote Cafe and Coyote's Pantry as well as in The Great Chile Book and The Great Salsa Book. "The increasing popularity of salsas means that American chefs are waking up," he notes. "They are exploring a world of different ingredients and learning that the technique of putting strong flavors together allows for greater expression and leads to wonderful taste discoveries."
Miller characterizes salsas as a combination of raw, cooked or partially cooked ingredients that are put together to form a harmonious chord. "In a good salsa, each component retains its own taste, texture, and personality so that each bite will contain a myriad of flavors and a kaleidoscope of textures," he explains.
The salsa frontier is also being thoroughly explored in Rick Bayless' tony Frontera Grill and Topolobampo (both in Chicago) where the acclaimed chef and authority on Mexican cuisine has elevated the condiment way beyond green or red table salsa. Bayless, who penned Salsas that Cook, among other notable cookbooks, has introduced salsa connoisseurs to more complex versions with a preliminary "toasting" or "roasting" of the ingredients. "If we roast onions and garlic, as well as tomatoes and chilies, they last a lot longer," he says. By doing so, "we also mellow their aggressive flavors and bring up their sweetness." What is more, Bayless accomplishes this without the addition of any fat. This, he says, is the secret behind the clarity and distinctiveness of his salsas, whether they are enjoyed at the restaurants or from the bottle (he recently added a line of five salsas to his Frontera line).
Like Miller, Bayless cooks with the salsas in a variety of ways, using them as seasoning for the filling in empanadas; as a base for soups; as part of the emulsification for salad dressings; as a garnish for mashed potatoes, macaroni-and-cheese or savory bread pudding; as a topping for chicken breasts or fish fillets; or as a head start on a pasta sauce.
Indeed, many American chefs, and not just those specializing in Southwestern or Mexican cooking, are now finding in salsa the kind of creative outlet that Italy's pesto also affords. Chef-proprietor and cookbook author Allen Susser (Chef Allen's, Aventura, Florida), says, "Salsa covers the gamut for breakfast, lunch and dinner - tropical fruit salsa on pancakes, savory and spicy salsa on grilled steaks or chops, sweetly textured salsa on fish, nut salsa on dessert." He notes that experimentation is one of the great things about salsa, but cautions, "You can't just throw ingredients wildly together - they have to make a connection with culture and history."
He treats salsa as "a foil, a contrast to the flavor of whatever it is being served with," which is precisely how his salsa of black beans, dried mangoes, dried apricots, sun-dried tomatoes and jalapeno pepper behaves when paired with char-grilled shrimp or cumin-roasted chicken. Susser's flavor counterpoints, many of which are collected in The Great Mango Book, have proven so successful he's also bottled them for the home cook to buy in gourmet markets under the Chef Allen's label.
Salsa is a hallmark on the menus of chef-owners Susan Feniger and Mary Sue Milliken (other than operating Border Grills in Los Angeles and Las Vegas, they also run Ciudad in Los Angeles). With their cookbooks, such as Mesa Mexicana and Cantina, and Food Network television shows Too Hot Tamales and Tamales World Tour, the duo has been at the forefront of educating Americans about authentic Mexican salsas. "Salsas are the heart and soul of the Mexican kitchen," Milliken says.
Still, classical European elements fascinate them, and they often compose salsas that trade on influences from France and the Mediterranean. For instance, their grilled fish is served with a salsa made from olives, oregano, red onions and vinegar that would seem perfectly suited in Madrid. The platter of oysters at Ciudad is another example, served with three salsas: one made with chipotle peppers, red onions, olive oil and vinegar; another with chopped, uncooked tomatillos, cilantro, olive oil and jalapenos; and a purée of shallots, red wine and vinegar.
"Salsa, to me, is simply a chopped-up cold sauce," Feniger says.
"For an Asian touch, we prepare a salsa of dried aji Amarillo peppers, chopped red onions, lime juice puréed with olive oil and ginger as a foil for raw tuna. It's a balancing act," she explains, "the rich flavor of the tuna versus the acidic, sweet, spicy flavor of the salsa."
Massachusetts-based Chef Chris Schlesinger (East Coast Grill, Cambridge; Black Eddy, Westport) also touts balance, but loves the boldness of a good salsa. Similar to the Latin dance that shares the name, the best salsas are "wild, loose, and loud," he says.
This description captures the spirit of the deep, chunky salsas that combine flavorful, raw fruits and vegetables with fresh herbs and spices commonly used in Mexico and Latin America. Schlesinger, who with John Willoughby wrote Salsas, Sambals, Chutneys & Chowchows, notes that it was papaya salsa that first hooked him. "The salsas that restaurants typically serve with grilled fish or roasted meats are complex and full of intense, conflicting flavors. Because they come from the southern half of the Western Hemisphere, they usually include herbs like cilantro and oregano, spices like cumin and chili powder, and a range of vegetables and fruits from corn to tomatoes, jicama to pineapples, and mangoes to tomatillos," he explains. Schlesinger adds that salsas can lend urgency to steamed vegetables, or brighten up heavier starch dishes such as rice.
As far as the condiment's renown goes, strictly continental American chefs do not have a monopoly. Japanese uber-toque Nobu Matsuhisa puts his stamp on the substance with his "Maui onion salsa," made with onions, tomatoes and ponzu sauce. Noted Indian cookbook author Julie Sahni lavishes a mild and sweet tomato-radish salsa (called kachoomar) on tandoori meats, roasts and grilled chicken. Mark Miller has even taken salsa down under via his restaurant Wildfire in Sydney, Australia.
Indeed, these days "global warming" may refer as much to our shared taste for the heat imparted by salsas as it does to weather patterns. And here in the Americas, salsa is like the people who eat it - cross-pollinated until the whole is often more interesting than the parts.
Related Products to this article
 Copyright © 2004-2006 Sparky Boy Enterprises. All rights reserved.
|
 |
