Fiery Flashback

My father was not, by any stretch of ANYone's imagination, a gourmet. One of his favourite expressions was "well it all ends up in the same place..." so let's mix all sorts of cr#p together and see just how revolting we can make it look (smell, taste.) Mustard was a perennial favourite, and soy sauce, but his most prized possession, one he shared with no one (in part because we didn't WANT any) was his little jars of Sambal Oelek. He spent a few years in Indonesia after WWII, with the Dutch Army. He loved hot, spicy peppery food. He'd also been a smoker since he was 13, so his taste buds were no doubt a little dim.

Dad would take a plate appointed with a perfectly average supper and turn it into a Jackson Pollack of yellow swirls (that'd be the mustard) and red blobs, with a mashed consistency somewhere between lumpy mashed potatoes and the celery you forgot was in the crisper. He'd stir and add, taste and season until he was prepared to announce it a masterpiece. "How much do you think you'd pay for this in a Toronto restaurant?" Uhh, pay?! I think they'd be willing to pay me to take it out back to scrape directly into the dumpster. Impertinence wasn't tolerated, though, so we'd mumble and shove our stuffed cabbage and shoe leather pork chops in, keeping our mouths too full to politely respond.

Never say never, though. I've grown to like pepper and mustard, too. Soy sauce, still not so much. But. (<- big but there) I have a garden full of jalapenos, and a market up the road brimming with habaneros and chilis and even (gasp!) Scotch Bonnets. I'm going to use the my peppers and make some Jalapeno Jelly (awesome with cream cheese and crackers) and I'm going to buy some hot peppers and try my hand at Sambal Oelek. I've even found a recipe with rave reviews. (when I find it again, sigh, I'll post a link.) If nothing else I'll have Christmas gifts all set for everyone I like (or heh, everyone I don't.)