Salsa Guille

Some things—eye color, certain talents, traditions, recipes—are inherited from generation to generation. Some things aren’t. For example, I didn’t inherit the love for spicy foods that my mother, Alejandra, has—the woman can eat whole jalapeños the way I scarf down popcorn. Nor did I inherit very many recipes: The only one I know of is this salsa. My paternal great-grandmother, Guillermina, or Guille, taught my mom how to make this salsa shortly after my parents married. It boasts no tomato, tomatillo, or citrus; instead, it’s creamy, earthy, and savory, with a little bite. Because my mom lives for heat, she made it spicy, leaving the seeds from the chile intact, but added an eccentric nutty twist—peanut butter—that tames the bite. But I’ve come along and seeded the serrano chiles, to highlight their flavor without the distraction of the heat and, truthfully, to cater to my sensitive tongue.

This savory salsa is the perfect addition to sizzling mushrooms, quesadillas, or nachos. You can dip bread or chips into it, and it’s exceptional with whatever meaty dishes your heart desires.