Salsa

Fresh salsa, fire-roasted and never canned. The peppers, tomatoes, and tomatillos come off nine raised beds on our property in Nampa, and they go straight onto the fire — blistered black, then cut by hand. No food processor, no mush. It’s refrigerated because it’s real, and it’s made the week you pick it up. When the beds stop producing, the salsa stops. Local pickup in the Treasure Valley.

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Owyhee Amber — Grilled Pineapple Salsa
The Owyhees are the empty quarter — high desert canyons south of the Snake where the light goes amber about an hour before dark and the whole country looks like it's smoldering. That's the color of this jar, and roughly the idea. Pineapple grilled in planks until it's deeply marked and half-caramelized. Poblanos blistered black in the flame, then peeled — what's underneath is sweet and grassy and nothing like a raw pepper. Ancho and morita minced through it; the morita is the spine, smoky and fruity with real heat behind it. Sweet meets smoke. The one people don't expect and then come back for. Refrigerated, never canned. Local pickup in the Treasure Valley.
Seven Devils Green — Charred Tomatillo Salsa Verde
The Seven Devils stand over Hells Canyon, and the peaks have names: He-Devil, She-Devil, the Tower of Babel. Nobody named them that as a joke. Fair warning, in other words. Tomatillos, serranos, onion, and ten cloves of garlic go over the fire until the tomatillos blister and start to collapse. They look ruined. They're perfect. Blended rough, seeds in. It comes out sharp and green and innocent-looking — right up until the serranos show up with all that garlic behind them. The hot one. Named honestly. Refrigerated, never canned, made the week you pick it up. Local pickup in the Treasure Valley.
Treasure Valley Red — Fire-Roasted Salsa
They named this valley for treasure and then filled it with farms, which turned out to be the same thing. This is the valley's jar. Tomatoes, jalapeños, onion, and garlic straight onto the fire until they're blistered and black — then a knife, not a food processor, which is why it's chunky and pourable instead of smooth. Smoked salt, lime, cilantro, a toasted morita underneath for the backbone. Mild to medium. The one that ends up on everything. It's named for the Treasure Valley because it never leaves it — refrigerated, no canning, no preservatives, made the week you pick it up. Local pickup: Nampa, Caldwell, Meridian, Boise.