Padron peppers might be the simplest good time I've ever had.
I first tried them in Josh DeCarolis' gnocci with okra caponata. The dish, laced with padrons and guanicale, was fantastic, but I hadn't thought of his preferred heat source until this summer at the market.
"Padrons are amazing," the vendor told me...
"Fry them in olive oil for about 5 minutes, then finish with a coarse salt and serve as a side. It's that simple, and they're fantastic."
"She's right," the guy behind me in line added. "Serve them as a side tonight and they'll knock your socks off."
By that point, half a dozen eyes were watching me, and I wasn't ready to let them down. I bought a pint of peppers, fried them that night to eat alongside pasta norma, and subsequently searched for my footwear.
The smallest ones carried an almost bittersweet ring, while the bigger ones cleansed my nasal passages in a hurry.
Some were sweet and tangy, others very spicy. Eating a pile of padrons was like playing Russian Roulette. And just as addicting.
The next day, I wanted more padrons. I envisioned them taking over a pot of shrimp diavolo, but my wife and I didn't want to wait for the pasta and sauce. We instead ate them on their own, waiting for the spicy ones and washing them down with beer.
Putting the kid to bed, picking at padrons and washing them down with beer has become a weekly routine for us. Our summers will never be the same.
I first tried them in Josh DeCarolis' gnocci with okra caponata. The dish, laced with padrons and guanicale, was fantastic, but I hadn't thought of his preferred heat source until this summer at the market.
"Padrons are amazing," the vendor told me...
"Fry them in olive oil for about 5 minutes, then finish with a coarse salt and serve as a side. It's that simple, and they're fantastic."
"She's right," the guy behind me in line added. "Serve them as a side tonight and they'll knock your socks off."
By that point, half a dozen eyes were watching me, and I wasn't ready to let them down. I bought a pint of peppers, fried them that night to eat alongside pasta norma, and subsequently searched for my footwear.
The smallest ones carried an almost bittersweet ring, while the bigger ones cleansed my nasal passages in a hurry.
Some were sweet and tangy, others very spicy. Eating a pile of padrons was like playing Russian Roulette. And just as addicting.
The next day, I wanted more padrons. I envisioned them taking over a pot of shrimp diavolo, but my wife and I didn't want to wait for the pasta and sauce. We instead ate them on their own, waiting for the spicy ones and washing them down with beer.
Putting the kid to bed, picking at padrons and washing them down with beer has become a weekly routine for us. Our summers will never be the same.
