In the middle of an absolute bash of a lawn party this past summer, I got thrown for a loop. I got thrown in the way that food know-it-alls often do, even if they don’t like to admit it. In fact, it has been my experience that the people who claim they are not cooks actually /files/storyimages/up making most of the world’s truly crowd-pleasing dishes. The food at the lawn party was no exception to this theory.
The whole experience caused me to flash back to the time in the mid-1970s when I first discovered what rumaki is. At a fancy (for that era) wedding reception, I asked a sophisticated (for that era) older man, "What the heck are those thingies wrapped in bacon?" He tried not to sound arrogant and dismissive as he said, "You’ve never had rumaki?" I plopped one into my mouth, where the principle reigned that anything wrapped in bacon will taste 10 times better than anything not wrapped in bacon. I filled my plate with several more specimens of rumaki. I didn’t care about anything else at the reception but the little bacon-wrapped chicken liver/water chestnut delicacies.
So, back to the lawn party. This time it was my husband who, upon surveying all the food about to be laid onto grills the size of tractor-trailers, strolled over to ask me, "What the heck are those things — rumaki?" However, I could see that under the bacon wrapping were neither chicken livers nor scallops, but jalapeno peppers. I said, "Nossir, that cannot be rumaki." The little things in their raw state did not look so appetizing.
A half hour later, as I watched several platters being carried from the cooking area to the dining table, I interrupted my conversation with the host. "Oh my God — will you look at those! What are those?" He said, "Stuffed peppers." Some were red; some were green. All were sizzling and giving off that perfect roasted pepper aroma. I was about to ask what they were stuffed with, when I turned to see my husband holding a platter full of five of them with his mouth full of one, stopping only to say, "Get the recipe."
I began to make inquiries. Finally, the hostess admitted that her dad’s wife was the one behind the stuffed peppers. I tracked her down somewhere deep inside the house. She had the bluest eyes of any human being I’ve ever met. And the most sincere modesty. And a winning Southern accent, almost Texan — the good kind of Texan, not the oil scion kind of Texan. Her name was Debi. The first thing she said was, "Well, I don’t think I invented ’em, did I? Dudden everyone make ’em? Don’t they serve ’em in all the chain restaurants?"
"What?" I shouted. "These are served in chain restaurants? Which ones, and how come I don’t eat there then?"
Someone in the crowd stepped forth to clear up the mystery. As it turns out, grilled jalapeno peppers are not served in chain restaurants. Deep-fried jalapeno peppers (a.k.a. "jalapeno poppers") are the ones served in the chains. And a deep-fried pepper is something I am never going to care about. What I wanted to know was how the grilled kind were made, step by step.
Though the recipe below gives the technical directions, nothing could beat the way Debi herself put it (once I finally pried the info from her). What she said was, "Well, the first thing I do is cut ’em open and haul all o’ that ol’ stuff outta the insides. Sometimes it’ll make your eyes water and make ya choke up, so be careful. Then I mix up some other cheese with the cream cheese, shoo it all back in there, and close ’em up. Wrap a strip of bacon around each one, and they’re ready for ya to throw ’em on the grill."
The next day I tried my hand at it. Hmm, I thought in the middle of grilling, there’s some trick Debi must have omitted telling me about because, whoops, this cheese is leaking out all over the place, and the deck is going to catch on fire if it doesn’t stop soon. What happened was that I had underestimated the power of cheese to turn into molten lava as it expands. I had used too much cheese, which began to burn, causing the bacon to, well, blacken a bit more than it was supposed to — but only on one side. The other side of the too-thick bacon was nearly raw.
So I went online to see what I could discover in the way of actual measurements and procedures, and it turns out that lots of people do make these little rascals, that there are specific instructions to follow, and that if you do so, your peppers will be almost as good as Debi’s. But she still might have some secret ingredient she’ll never reveal.
One thing to keep in mind is that right now is the perfect time of year to experiment with other delicious peppers besides jalapenos. Fall is pepper season. The bigger fresh chiles such as Anaheims and poblanos are usually considered best for stuffing, not only because of their large size, but also because they are mild and can be eaten in larger quantities without "chokin’ ya up," as Debi would say. Still, her dish is not intended for the lily-livered among us. Other hot-pepper varieties that work well for stuffing are the chilaca, the hot gold spike or any of the New Mexican varieties that are available to order online. At most of these sites you can order anywhere from five to 30 pounds at a time, and you can specify mild, medium, hot or extra-hot.
CHEESE-STUFFED GRILLED JALAPENO PEPPERS
8 jumbo jalapeno peppers
1 8-ounce package cream cheese
? cup Cheddar cheese, shredded
? cup Monterey Jack cheese, shredded
Several dashes of garlic powder
A dash of sea salt
Thin-cut hickory-smoked bacon
Bring the cream cheese to room temperature. Split the jalapenos in half lengthwise and remove the seeds and veins. Mix the cream cheese and other cheeses together, adding the garlic powder and salt. Stuff the cheese into the peppers and close each one so that the excess cheese is removed. For each, put a toothpick through one /files/storyimages/of a half bacon slice and the pepper and wrap the bacon around it until you reach the other end; then pierce with the opposite /files/storyimages/of the toothpick. Grill the peppers over charcoal, using an open flame, turning constantly, or grill them on the lower burner of a gas grill set to medium heat. You’ll need to use long tongs, as the bacon renderings falling into the fire will create long flames. Cook until the bacon is done and cheese is melted. Remove the peppers to a platter. Serves four, but the recipe is easy to multiply.
