into life a little spice must fall

I miss having my brother Darrel here in Mexico this year.

There are a lot of reasons for that. But food tops the list.

Darrel and I love experimenting with food. If it is new, we will try it. If it is extremely spicy, we will be glad we tried it.

I sent him an email yesterday letting him know he was missing a monumental moment in Mexican culinary history at the house with no name.

Last Sunday, a local restaurant sponsored a chili-eating contest. And I do not mean the Tex-Mex concoction. This contest involved foods cooked with the spiciest chili peppers in the world.

You may not know their names, but we pepper-heads live for the opportunity to eat them. Bhut Jolokia (better known by its nickname ghost pepper; the same pepper the Indian police use to disperse rioters). The Trinidad Moruga Scorpion, the one-time world-wide heat champion. And my favorite, the Carolina Reaper, whose name gives ample warning of its current reign as the world's spiciest pepper with a Scoville rating of 1.5 million.

People who will not eat a jalapeño, take heed. A jalapeño is rated only at 8500 on the Scoville scale.

I had planned on attending and enjoying the contest, but other circumstances intervened. Instead, yesterday I wandered over to Bare Essentials, a charmingly-funky shop three blocks from my house, and bought a jar of Carolina Reaper from Giovanni. He had helped with the chili contest preparations.

He had six choices of salsas -- from a mild Serrano to the king of the volcano, Carolina Reaper. I, of course, opted for the Carolina Reaper.

The world is now filled with a wide variety of chili peppers. And regional cooking is often defined by its chilies.  It is hard to imagine Angolan or Indian or Thai food without thinking of the chilies grown in their countries.

It is easy to forget that just over 500 years ago, none of those countries had chili peppers. Every chili grown in the world came from Mexican plants. Columbus took some to Europe, where they became a rage. The Portuguese then spread them throughout the world. The rest, as they say, is dinner.

Let me add a disclaimer. When it comes to chili peppers, spice is not the sole, or even the best, criteria for cooking. Every chili has a different personality that will add umami to a meal -- if properly chosen. The Carolina Reaper is a good food choice because of its pungency and its subtle fruitiness.

Giovanni's salsa works because he has found that proper balance between adding spice and fruitiness. I know because I scurried home with my acquisition to put it to good use.

My first experiment was to let the salsa be the star. I fried some rice paper, added a bit of salt, and then a dab of Giovanni's salsa. My first response was this is a pepper to be respected.

I use a lot of ghost pepper powder in my cooking. But the Carolina Reaper is noticeably spicier. And, as advertised, fruitier. I was soon dipping out large globs.

For me, spicy is not spicy if I can still breath or see after eating the chili. This chili is spicy.

So, I decided to use the salsa in a more complex dish. I had already decided to make a tortilla Española for supper -- and the salsa sounded like a good addition.

My tortilla is a bit eccentric. It certainly is not the classic Basque dish. I fry sliced potatoes in olive oil and butter just until they are on the verge of crisping. I set them aside while I stir-fry a combination of sliced onions, garlic, red bell pepper, a couple of Serranos, and a habanero, along with sliced ham.

I then line the bottom of the frying pan with the sliced potatoes forming the equivalent of a pie crust. The ham-vegetable mixture is layered over the top of that.

Of course, there are eggs. Last night, I whisked them them together with some fresh chopped tarragon. I poured the egg mixture over the vegetables trying to keep that layer as even as possible.

The salsa would be a new addition to this ever-evolving fusion dish. I decided to put a discernible layer over the top of the vegetable mixture before I added the eggs. If I do this again, I will spread it over the potato layer. The moisture in the layer between the eggs and the vegetables diluted the salsa. I was after a layered effect. Instead, the salsa was diluted through the dish.

But it was a fantastic eating experience. Omar, who wants everything to be spicy had to concede that the Carolina Reaper is a chili to be savored, but to be given its due.

I am sorry I missed the chili-eating contest. Darrel undoubtedly would have loved it.

He certainly would have enjoyed the tortilla Española.

There are two pieces sitting in my refrigerator. I would offer you a sample, but I am certain they will be gone by this afternoon.