A long time ago, before any of us had kids, Paul and I went to Mexico City for twelve hours with our friend, Levi. He worked for an airline at the time and did extragavagantly spontaneous things like take his friends to Mexico City for twelve hours.
We arrived just before dawn and wandered along the cobblestone streets of the old quarter, stumbling upon churches and coffee and murals and narrow arcades and grand piazzas. As the day got hot, we stopped in the blue-tarp shade of a quesadilla vendor at an open air market. She was patting out masa next to a big burnished hot iron grill surrounded by dozens of quesadilla fillings. I remember squash blossoms and mushrooms and rajas and potatoes and some sort of greens, but there were more. We pulled up stools and worked our way through every possible vegetable combination.
Growing up in Southern California, quesadillas were another story. They were classic kid food - simple to prepare, pretty cheap, mild on the palate. They definitely didn't involve fresh masa and obviously not huitlacoche. They were white tortillas and cheddar cheese. They were one of the first foods I made regularly for myself. I remember when I stepped it up from the microwave to my first piece of cast iron cookware bought with babysitting dollars - a small comal that I still use. I started adding tomatoes and onions.
Of course it wasn't all that many years after aquiring my perfect quesadilla pan, that I stopped eating the queso, and it's been a lot of frustrating years since when I've longed for the simplicity of a block of cheese and a bag of tortillas. Especially now that I have kids of my own.
This is why ever since I discovered what a wonderful quesadilla this sweet pepper crema makes, I have had a jar of it in my fridge. This is why I haven't written about it yet - I've been too busy making quesadillas - not in the style of the Mexico City street vendor (we can talk about fresh masa again another day) but in the classic Southern California mom style (that has had the extreme privilege of wiling away a sunny late morning in Mexico City eating quesadillas with extraordinary friends - thank you Paul and Levi for schlepping a pregnant woman to Mexico City).
With a blend of cashews and sweet roasted red pepper, this sauce is creamy and mild. It started out as a kid-friendly alternative to the chipotle cream, but lately it's simply replaced it. I still love the spicy version, but this one is everyone and everything friendly. In addition to living in our fridge to meet our spontaneous quesadilla needs, we drizzle it on tacos and fajitas and pinto beans. Felix likes it on rice. Desmond dips broccoli in it. My friend Jen turned a bag of tortilla chips into nachos at the beach on Wednesday with the addition of refried beans and this sauce. It's become my block of orange cheese - reliably present.
Sweet Pepper Crema
(for vegan quesadillas and loads of other things)Straight away this is excellent on top of tacos or fajitas or melting into a simple bowl of pinto beans, but the leftover crema will thicken a bit in the fridge making it the perfect consistency to hold together a quesadilla. Spread a couple tablespoons of the thick chilled crema on a tortilla, top with vegetables and a second tortilla. Grill on both sides until blistered and brown and the filling is oozy and warm.
makes: about 1 1/2 cups
takes: about 2 minutes
- 1 cup raw cashews
- 1 roasted red bell pepper
- 2 tablespoons lemon juice
- 1 tablespoon nutritional yeast
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 cup water
Blend, blend, blend.
