



Latin Items
HATCH CHILE'S
The smoky scent of freshly roasted Hatch chilis signals the start of something special. Grown in New Mexico’s Hatch Valley, these peppers bring heat, flavor, and heritage to every kitchen, capturing the spirit of the Southwest in every bite.
I’ve always believed that if you’re going to eat a chili, it better wake you up and remind you you’re alive. Life’s too short for bland food. But lately, I’ve realized it’s not just about the heat – it’s about the story behind it.
I haven’t made it out to Hatch Valley, New Mexico yet (which is where the real Hatch chilis are from), but ever since last year’s Hatch Chili Roast, I’ve been counting down the days for this season to return. There’s just something about standing in line next to other chili lovers, breathing in that smoky, slightly sweet aroma as the roasters spin and hiss. That first taste of a blistered, roasted Hatch – earthy, rich, with just the right kick – had me hooked for life.
Here’s the thing: not all Hatch chilis are created equal. Sure, lots of people sell “Hatch-style” chilis, but the real deal comes straight from Hatch Valley. The soil there – rich, clay-like, and packed with minerals – gives these chilis their signature flavor. In fact, authentic Hatch chilis come with a special certification proving they were grown in that exact region. It’s like the difference between sparkling wine and true Champagne.
Hatch chilis come in mild, medium, hot and extra hot, so you can enjoy them regardless of how much spice you can take. But here’s a little secret: no matter what heat level you choose, roasting is where the magic happens. If you’ve never roasted chilis at home, you’re missing out. Pop them on the grill or under the broiler until the skin is blistered and blackened, toss them in a paper bag to steam for a few minutes, then peel off the charred skin. What’s left is tender, smoky perfection ready to be diced into salsas, folded into quesadillas, or layered over your favorite burger.
And because Hatch season is short – late July through September – most chili lovers buy in bulk and freeze them for the holidays. There’s nothing like pulling a roasted Hatch chili out of the freezer in December to tuck into tamales or add to a creamy Christmas morning casserole. Trust me, your future self will thank you.
So whether you’re a mild fan or an extra hot daredevil, one thing’s for sure: Hatch chilis aren’t just another chili. They’re an experience – one that starts in the clay soils of New Mexico and ends at your dinner table, with a little bit of fire and a whole lot of flavor.
I’ve always believed that if you’re going to eat a chili, it better wake you up and remind you you’re alive. Life’s too short for bland food. But lately, I’ve realized it’s not just about the heat – it’s about the story behind it.
I haven’t made it out to Hatch Valley, New Mexico yet (which is where the real Hatch chilis are from), but ever since last year’s Hatch Chili Roast, I’ve been counting down the days for this season to return. There’s just something about standing in line next to other chili lovers, breathing in that smoky, slightly sweet aroma as the roasters spin and hiss. That first taste of a blistered, roasted Hatch – earthy, rich, with just the right kick – had me hooked for life.
Here’s the thing: not all Hatch chilis are created equal. Sure, lots of people sell “Hatch-style” chilis, but the real deal comes straight from Hatch Valley. The soil there – rich, clay-like, and packed with minerals – gives these chilis their signature flavor. In fact, authentic Hatch chilis come with a special certification proving they were grown in that exact region. It’s like the difference between sparkling wine and true Champagne.
Hatch chilis come in mild, medium, hot and extra hot, so you can enjoy them regardless of how much spice you can take. But here’s a little secret: no matter what heat level you choose, roasting is where the magic happens. If you’ve never roasted chilis at home, you’re missing out. Pop them on the grill or under the broiler until the skin is blistered and blackened, toss them in a paper bag to steam for a few minutes, then peel off the charred skin. What’s left is tender, smoky perfection ready to be diced into salsas, folded into quesadillas, or layered over your favorite burger.
And because Hatch season is short – late July through September – most chili lovers buy in bulk and freeze them for the holidays. There’s nothing like pulling a roasted Hatch chili out of the freezer in December to tuck into tamales or add to a creamy Christmas morning casserole. Trust me, your future self will thank you.
So whether you’re a mild fan or an extra hot daredevil, one thing’s for sure: Hatch chilis aren’t just another chili. They’re an experience – one that starts in the clay soils of New Mexico and ends at your dinner table, with a little bit of fire and a whole lot of flavor.







