Oh, how I love my chilies! In fact where would the world be without the added flavor of these piquant little bastards?
The orange and red ones I grow in a pot on my rooftop terrace. They’re screamingly hot. I put a single green Mercado bought Serrano chili in the photo to give size perspective.
I picked these chilies just 10 minutes ago. It is just crazy that both the fat red chilies and the skinny smaller orange chilies grow on the same bush. Go figure.
And no, the orange don’t transition to red if left to mature on the bush longer. The bush produces these both distinctively different peppers.
Is it a hybrid – via a graft – who the hell knows? But I doubt it. The plant was a gift from my friend, Clemente and the bush since the advent of rainy season has been producing the quantity you see above something like every three or four days.
They’re delicious and I wait to the very last minute to add them to a dish so that the flavors are preserved and the sweat and snot producing heat is left intact.
Chilies as many people don’t realize, or think about, are a product of the New World. They didn’t find their way around the world into cuisines like India’s or Thailand until after the conquest of the America’s in something like the mid-sixteenth century.
The world owes the America’s a debt of gratitude for many native plants. But for now, salud to the mighty chili!
PS – It has been my experience the smaller the chili, the hotter the chili. And capsaicin remains one of my preferred drugs of choice.