Blistered Padrón Peppers

This is fun.
by Erin Henderson
Picture it: Fall. 2016. Madrid.
I was sitting in the Plaza de Santa Ana enjoying the novelty of hot sun on my Canadian face in mid-October. A gigantic gin and tonic in front of me (no one does G+Ts like the Spanish), waiting on a few tapas to round out my afternoon aperitivo, all was right with the world.
Fortuitously, just as my tummy let out a low, quiet rumble, the small plates were placed at our table: croquetas de jamón, patatas bravas, gambas al ajillo, and pimientos de Padrón – the last of which was new to me, and I was excited to try.
I picked up a small, green pepper, the thin, papery outer skin an olive colour after being blistered from frying. Tiles of Maldon salt clung to the Padrón, glimmering in the late-afternoon sun.
Biting into it, it was verdant and soft, with a lightly crunchy exterior, and slight tang and the delicate salt coming through at the end. And then ... a blasphemous heat trapped in my mouth. A bull's eye shot from the Devil himself spearing my tender insides with the anger of a thousand raging fires unleashed after centuries of imprisonment.
I could have died.
Padrón peppers are like that. One out of every dozen or so has a contained fire so intense you can't help but wonder, "why me?" as the heat settles in and gets comfy across your writhing tongue.
But the rest are perfectly mild – deliciously sweet, nearly – and that makes up for the landmines hidden amongst the innocent.
And, I know you are wondering, why didn't you just look for the hot ones and set them aside? You can't. Even the occasional peppers with streaks of orange, surely a reasonable warning to stay away, are actually mild and easy going. The evil magic of the hot ones, for which no one knows why or how, is that they look identical to the others.
But the glory of a fried Padrón is such that it's worth the risk for most of the culinary curious.
At least you will have a colossal gin and tonic to help extinguish the heat.

Blistered Padrón Peppers
While Padrón peppers are what's served in Spain, in my hometown of Toronto they are not as easily found. I find shishito, an East Asian variety of pepper that is similar in profile, works just as well.
Makes: estimate 4-5 per person
Chef level: easy
Ingredients:
- 2 Tbsp extra virgin olive oil
- 8oz padrón or shishito peppers
- 2 tsp Kosher salt (I use Diamond brand)
- 2 Tbsp sherry vinegar
- Maldon salt, for sprinkling
How to Make It:
- In a high-sided pan warm the olive oil over medium heat.
- When warm and shimmering, add in all the peppers, they may crackle, so be aware.
- Sprinkle the peppers with Kosher salt and toss frequently in the hot oil until the skins blister and char in spots, about 3-5 minutes, depending on heat.
- Turn off the heat and immediately pour in the vinegar, standing back as it will sputter and steam, toss continuously for 30 seconds or so until the vinegar is less sharp and the peppers are well coated.
- Place the peppers in a serving bowl, sprinkle with Maldon salt, and serve.