Arbol Chile Salsa

September 2030. The fall workshops begin. Fourteen years of doing this and the beginning of each new session still has a particular energy — new participants, returning participants, the first recipe of the season, the way a room of twenty people who don't quite know each other yet becomes, over the course of an hour, something more connected. I have never grown tired of watching that happen.

Jenny is extraordinary and has been for six years. She handles the workshop logistics with a precision I couldn't match even in my prime organizational years, and she's added ideas that improved the program in ways I couldn't have thought of from inside my own perspective. We had our annual planning session this week and I told her, directly, that the program would not be what it is without her. She said, "It would be you teaching out of your kitchen." I said, "That's not a bad thing." She said, "No. But this is better." Yes. This is better.

Noah starts his second year at Oregon. He called with a list of questions about an article he's writing on fermentation traditions in the Pacific Northwest — he'd been talking to someone at a brewery and needed context for how home fermentation relates to restaurant fermentation relates to traditional food preservation. I talked to him for an hour, referencing Mason's work, referencing my own preserving, referencing the Provo pantry's community cooking. He took notes. My youngest child, calling his mother for expert context. That's the best possible use of a phone.

After Noah’s call, I sat at the kitchen table for a while thinking about what I’d actually said — about how home preserving and restaurant fermentation and traditional food culture aren’t separate things so much as one long conversation across generations. The jar of arbol chile salsa sitting on my counter felt like a small piece of that argument. It’s one of the recipes I come back to every fall at the start of workshop season, partly because it keeps beautifully and partly because it’s the kind of thing you can make a batch of and share — which is, when you think about it, exactly what preservation has always been for.

Prep Time: 15 min | Cook Time: 20 min | Total Time: 35 min | Servings: 8

Ingredients

20 dried arbol chiles, stems removed
4 roma tomatoes, halved
6 cloves garlic, unpeeled
1/2 white onion, quartered
1 cup water (plus more as needed)
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar
1 teaspoon salt, or to taste
1 tablespoon neutral oil (such as avocado or vegetable)

Instructions

Toast the chiles. In a dry skillet over medium heat, toast the arbol chiles for 1—2 minutes, turning frequently, until fragrant and slightly darkened. Be careful not to burn them or the salsa will turn bitter. Remove and set aside.
Char the vegetables. In the same skillet, add the tomato halves cut-side down, the garlic cloves, and the onion quarters. Cook over medium-high heat, turning occasionally, until all sides are charred and softened, about 8—10 minutes. Remove the garlic and peel once cool enough to handle.
Soak the chiles. Place the toasted arbol chiles in a small bowl and cover with hot water. Let soak for 10 minutes to soften, then drain.
Blend. Combine the soaked chiles, charred tomatoes, peeled garlic, charred onion, 1 cup fresh water, apple cider vinegar, and salt in a blender. Blend on high until smooth, 1—2 minutes. Add more water a tablespoon at a time if needed to reach your preferred consistency.
Fry the salsa. Heat the oil in a medium saucepan over medium-high heat. Carefully pour in the blended salsa — it will spatter. Cook, stirring frequently, for 5—7 minutes until the salsa darkens slightly and the flavors deepen.
Taste and adjust. Season with additional salt or vinegar as needed. Let cool before transferring to jars. Store refrigerated for up to 2 weeks, or process in a water bath canner for shelf-stable preservation.

Nutrition (per serving)

Arbol Chile Salsa — The Recipe I Reach For When Tradition Comes Up in Conversation