That’s the odd thing–it doesn’t burn going on the way out either–haven’t had that problem since I was in my early teens. How in the heck does that work?
You’re making adequate digestive enzymes to break down the capsaicin, and your transit time is adequate for the enzymes to be fully effective.
But if capsaicin survives the journey to reach the tender mucus membranes of the nether orifice, the phenomenon known as “serious wolf ass” ensues.
OU OU OU OU OUOOOOO!
Another option would be to dump the jalapeno and keep the poblano, or use two poblanos. Jalapenos and poblanos both have about the same flavor, poblanos clock in at 2000 scoville units, officially, jalapenos clock in at 5000 scoville units. That said, peppers do vary wildly. But the hottest poblano is likely to be milder than the mildest jalapeno, though sometimes not by much. Sometimes poblanos are not all that much hotter than a green pepper, which clocks in at 0 scoville units. So, you takes your chances. The fellow who advised using other spices to add heat probably had it right.
Do not trust the judgement of those who think hotter is better. Hotter just means the heat dominates the taste of the food to a greater degree. In short, they are missing all the OTHER tastes that make an etoufee great. If you don’t care about the other tastes, just eat a hot pepper … it is basically all you are doing no matter what the dish, as far as your tastes are concerned, once you get past a certain point.
wrong account
Why do people not get this? It’s all relative. People get used to capsaicin and develop tolerance such that in order to get an adequate hint of heat, they need much more pepper. For those of us with high tolerance, I can assure you we taste the other flavors fine, and they’re not being drowned out by heat. You know how somebody with an alcohol habit can drink a six pack and barely be buzzed while somebody else who doesn’t drink gets loopy after a glass of wine? Same idea.
I mean, I have made dishes I honestly detected no heat (as in truly zero, none, bell pepper levels), yet people not used to eating any level of spice whatsoever hotter than black pepper consider it too hot for them. That’s why when I cook for others, I do my best to severely undershoot what I think a proper heat level for a dish is, and I just add peppers to my plate.
And I have had poblanos hotter than jalapenos. I’ve also had jalapenos that are so mild they’re practically bell peppers. And I’ve also had jalapenos that I, with a high spice tolerance, would actually consider spicy. It’s all over the map.
I’ve pretty consistently found that the jalapenos I’ve grown have been considerably hotter than the ones I’ve bought at the market. Not knowing any better, I chalk it up to the possibility that market peppers are picked too early.
same here. when I read the OP I was like “Eh? The last batch of chili I made had six jalapenos and four habaneros in it, along with the spice blend.”
Yes, I would like a cookie and a medal.
Well, I just got the book in the mail today, and it looks reasonable to me. I like the variety of recipes, and he’s got several recipes for homemade sausages, bacon, and tasso, which is great and that I don’t normally see charcuterie in cookbooks (no recipe for andouille, though.) The jambalaya is a Cajun-style brown jambalaya without tomatoes, his chicken-sausage gumbo is made with bone-in, skin-on chicken, so he does appear to be trying to stick to the roots.
His note on the peppers says: “Cajun cooking is more about the flavors of chiles, rather than simple heat. This is one reason bell peppers are so prominent in Cajun food. They have a fresh green flavor and almost no heat. To me, though, they lack punch, so I often use a mixture of poblanos and jalapenos, and even fresh cayenne peppers.” So he admits he strays from tradition in this regard. If you don’t like the heat, just use all green peppers instead.
All in all, it seems to be a reasonable, accessible book on Cajun cuisine, although it doesn’t look to be like the authoritative and traditional source that the River Road recipes linked to above are. It’s a worthwhile addition to my cookbook library, although the historical food-research side of me needs to order the River Road cookbooks. I get the same way when I see Hungarian recipes that call for green bell peppers. They’re completely the wrong pepper for that kind of cuisine, at least if you’re trying to stick with tradition and how food in Hungary actually tastes. (Mild banana or wax peppers are the best substitute, if anyone cares. Green bell peppers are too fleshy and firm and have a much stronger “green” flavor that doesn’t taste quite right to me.) Or when Hungarian recipes call for mostly hot paprika or cayenne pepper. (Hungarian cuisine, despite its reputation, is generally not spicy. There are a few dishes that have a decent amount of heat to them, but sweet paprika is the most usual base for food. Heat is added at the table, usually in the form of crushed cherry peppers.)