This week, I’m writing from a cabin in northern Wisconsin where we are visiting family. This is part of the country where the strawberry and blueberry patches are bursting with fruit and where jam and pie recipes are passed between neighbors in a way that seems to avoid the movement of time.
In the past couple of days, I’ve seen a bald eagle fishing for its dinner and heard the loon’s call echo over the lake after a storm. Most noticeably, I’ve noticed the abundance of rain and the lush green of the woods. The trees are considerably less dense due to a tornado that hit five years ago, but for a desert dweller, it’s still a sight to see.
I couldn’t help but notice the differences between here and home, thinking about my lavender bushes and how it was only when I stopped watering them that they began to thrive. I think this is why the food of the Southwest has captivated me for so long.
I have never experienced a drop of rain in New Mexico that didn’t feel like a gift. I have never taken a bite of red chile that didn’t remind me how lucky I am to call New Mexico home. Maybe these tiny moments of noticing are gifts on their own, as are the flavors and scents of New Mexico.
A marinade is an easy way to add flavor to meat and vegetables, so it was only a matter of time before I concocted a go-to high-desert version to bathe meats and veggies before roasting or grilling.
In addition to infusing flavor, marinades also function as a tenderizer. Marinades are made up of a strategic combination of acid, fat and salt, often with additional aromatics for fun.
The basic idea is that the acid works its way into the protein, beginning the cooking process, which tenderizes it. The salt seasons while also drawing some of the moisture out, which essentially makes room for more flavorful liquids to be absorbed in its place. Then the fat allows the fat-soluble spices, herbs or aromatics to be absorbed onto the meat.
You’ll notice that instead of granulated salt, this marinade calls for soy sauce, which at first glance might seem mysterious. Yes, I am using soy sauce for the salt component, but even more so I am using it for its umami properties, the fifth basic flavor that translates to “pleasant savory taste” and is a rich, soft, hard-to-pinpoint flavor that spreads across the tongue.
The recipe also calls for High Desert Herbs. While this is a blend that I make (stokli.com), you can easily make it yourself by blending dried red chile, marjoram, oregano, sage, thyme, rosemary and lavender. There is a tin of these herbs by my stove at all times.
When marinating meat or vegetables, the time each food needs depends entirely on the cut, toughness and variety, and sometimes in the case of tender steaks, I don’t marinate them at all but keep it simple by giving them a generous sprinkle of sea salt and freshly cracked pepper.
Some general guidelines include marinating vegetables and seafood for no more than 30 minutes, chicken two to four hours and red meats four to 24 hours. Whenever marinating foods, be sure to use a nonreactive container like stainless steel, plastic or glass.
High desert marinade
Makes: ¾ cup;
total time: 15 minutes
2 tablespoons fresh lime juice
2 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 tablespoon honey
½ cup fresh cilantro leaves, minced
4 garlic cloves, minced
1-2 teaspoons red (or green) New Mexico chile powder, depending on your heat preference
½ teaspoons freshly cracked black pepper
2 teaspoons High Desert Herbs (or your favorite dried herbs)
Preparation: Whisk all ingredients together in a bowl. Marinate according to the variety and toughness of your meat or vegetables.
Marianne Sundquist is a chef and writer who in 2020 co-founded Stokli, an online general store. Find her on Instagram @chefmariannesundquist, and email her at marianne@stokli.com.
