Skip to content

I like to grow a few new fruits or vegetables in my garden each year; this year I planted two tomatillos. The plants are abundant to say the least; I’m about to have a lot of tomatillos! So I’ve started making salsa verde. It’s delicious with tortilla chips, and I’m sure would go well with many Mexican dishes.

Tomatillos, with ground cherries, Tuscan kale, and Italian principe borghese sun-drying tomatoes, which are all coming ripe at the same time in my garden. A friend told me you can tell when tomatillos are ready to be picked when they’ve filled their papery husks, and the fruit’s green skin has started to turn a lighter whitish-green – as tomatoes do just before they’re about to start turning pink.

Take off the husks, and rinse them well – tomatillos are sticky. Then cut them in half and put them cut-side-down on a cookie sheet.

Broil them for about 5 minutes, until the tops start to get nicely brown, which will give a roasted flavor to your salsa.

Then all you do, is put the tomatillos and their juice into a blender or food processor with the other ingredients listed below, pulse a few times, put your salsa in a bowl and chill (optional – I think it also tastes fine warm), and it’s ready to eat. Recipe follows, enjoy!

Ingredients
(Note, please adjust quantities to taste!)
1 to 1-1/2 pounds tomatillos
1/3 cup chopped white onion
1/2 cup (packed) cilantro leaves
1 Tbsp fresh lime juice
1/4 teaspoon sugar
1 Jalapeño pepper, stemmed, seeded and chopped (if you like your salsa hotter, use 2)
Salt to taste

Method

  • Remove papery husks from tomatillos and rinse well.
  • Cut in half and place cut-side down on a cookie sheet. Place under a broiler for about 5 minutes to blacken the skin a bit.
  • Place tomatillos, lime juice, onion, cilantro, peppers, and sugar in a blender (or food processor) and pulse until all ingredients are finely chopped and mixed. Season to taste with salt. Cool in refrigerator.
  • Serve with chips or as a salsa accompaniment to Mexican dishes.
  • Jillian: “Hello Mimi? This is Jillian from Zingerman’s Food Tours, I just wanted to let you know we’ll be arriving at your chocolate store in about half an hour.”
    Mimi: “Wonderful, I’ll have dark-chocolate hot chocolate ready for you. Would you like fresh whipped cream with it?”

    Now that’s my kind of conversation.

    Two weekends ago, a few Zingerman’s Food Tour colleagues and I went north to the Leelanau Peninsula area of Michigan to meet with artisanal food producers. The Leelanau is not only incredibly beautiful, it’s also overflowing with passionately dedicated food producers and a strong locavore culture – which is why we’re putting together a domestic food tour there for Spring 2013.

    One of our favorite stops of the weekend was at The Grocer’s Daughter – a small chocolate store tucked away on a rural road outside of Empire, a stone’s throw from the massive dunes and blue water of Sleeping Bear Dunes National Lakeshore.

    Founder and chocolate-maker Mimi gave us a warm welcome.

    She showed us her workspace, shared her story of how she got started, and plied us with tastes of her hand-crafted chocolates.

    It’s hard to choose, but the candied orange peel dipped in dark chocolate was probably my favorite – an intense burst of flavor. But the marzipan in dark chocolate was not far behind, and then what about the real hot chocolate, the frozen chocolate fudgsicle, or the dark chocolate “puddle” with crystallized ginger? All delicious.

    After spending an hour talking, tasting, and enjoying Mimi’s company, we said our good-byes, and with chocolate-inspired energy hiked a nearby dune to enjoy the view of Lake Michigan. Then we piled in the van to head back to Ann Arbor – well stocked with yet more chocolates from Mimi to sustain us during our drive.

    Herbs are among the first things to pop up in spring in my garden here in Ann Arbor. This winter was mild enough that the parsley came back, and is now a foot high and bushy with shiny leaves. The lavender is putting out new leaves, the peppermint is too, and even the rosemary survived the winter. Looking at my super-happy, healthy parsley, makes me think about Pierre.

    During last fall’s Zingerman’s Food Tour to Tuscany, culinary herbalist Pierre Cousea visited us at our villa in the Arno valley, from his home nearby. He loves talking about his herbs – they are like his children, which he tends but does not coddle. He doesn’t water them; the herbs need to hold their own through the summer heat.

    He says that each herb has its peak moment, a short span during its blooming time when it is at the pinnacle of potency. At that perfect moment for each plant, Pierre harvests the herb, by hand. He harvests the flowers rather than the leaves, which he then air dries. The flowers, he says, contain the pure expression of the herb at its
    strongest, if it’s picked at the right time. It’s painstaking work, and it takes thousands of flowers to fill up a small jar.

    When Pierre visited he brought an array of jars of herbs, which he opened and passed around for us to smell – the aromas were powerful, and it was intriguing to see the tiny flowers and buds rather than leaves as I’m more used to.

    Pierre also makes aromatic herb salts – he blends sea salt with herbs, and other elements such as citrus and hot pepper flakes, to create wonderful culinary combinations. He names his blends and provides his recommendations of what kinds of dishes each blends works best with. Here’s a very short clip of Pierre describing how he makes his salt blends.

    Pierre says that the herbs are potent yet delicate, and that they should be added, sparingly, to a dish only near the end of the cooking time. So, when I made this pizza for dinner last weekend, I sprinkled on oregano flowers, as well as some of my Il Grande Sale aromatic herb salt (with thyme, pepperoncini flakes, and scallions), at the moment I took the pizza out of the oven. The hot cheese warmed the herbs, and the aroma and flavor were just right. Yum.

    I purchased several jars from Pierre to bring home, and had intended to give them as gifts, but somehow I never got around to giving them away! I’m enjoying experimenting with them, with awareness of the love and care that went in to them and marveling at the depth of flavor they bring to my cooking.