Charmed by Chipotle

I am subject to the occasional food fad. I'll get on a kick where something will inspire me, some ingredient or spice, or sometimes a cooking method, and it will obsess me and I'll use it over and over again until someone calls in an intervention. It's happened with curry -- all my utensils turned yellow. Once it was horseradish -- still have to put horseradish on each and every sandwich. Right now, it's chipotle. Not canned chipotle ("in adobo sauce," whatever that is), but ground chipotle powder in all its deep, red, velvety loveliness. Hot and rich and smokey, a Mexican mistress in a flamenco dress - it is scandal in edible form.

It's been making quite a scene at our place. It's gone into soups and stews. I put it in a cream sauce I commandeered from Stacy. It made an appearance in the cocktail sauce we served with the shrimp on Christmas. I sprinkled it on fried eggs this morning (the kids amazingly didn't notice) and it dusted a turkey sandwich this afternoon (making good friends with the smear of horseradish sauce already installed). My mind is ever racing for new and novel chipotle applications. I'm thinking of mixing a little bit into some melted chocolate for fudge sauce with a kick. Maybe on some of those baked squash Stacy's always making - hmmm, yes. That has potential.

Stacy, not a big fan of le cuisine fumé, has endured this little culinary outburst with good grace, but I can tell it's wearing thin. I have a feeling I may overextend my chipotle welcome and she'll have me feeling the heat when she gets all smokey on me. Silly girl. Doesn't she know she'll always be my favorite spicy pepper.