Go upscale with the increasingly popular poblano pepper

By Barbara Hansen
Los Angeles Times

Glossy and plump, poblanos become ancho chiles when dried. Poblanos vary widely — and somewhat randomly — in hotness. Los Angeles Times

The poblano's most visible guise in the United States is probably as the chile relleno. Although Anaheim chiles were long the standard for the dish, the poblano is taking over. No longer largely limited to restaurants that delve more deeply into authentic Mexican ingredients, they're now used for rellenos by middlebrow establishments.

Once difficult to find, poblanos now are as abundant as all-purpose Anaheim chiles always have been. Yet unlike the Anaheim, which usually is mild, poblanos vary in heat, from moderate to something approaching jalapeno fire. You can't tell by looking at them; you have to taste them, best done after they have been roasted and peeled. One way to lessen the heat is to soak the chiles in salted water, but this leaches out some of the flavor.

When shopping for fresh poblanos, don't be put off if they are labeled pasilla. Who knows how the misnomer started, but somehow it caught on, and poblanos are routinely mislabeled as pasilla. A dried poblano, wrinkly and a deep red-brown, is called an ancho chile (sometimes ancho pasilla). Ancho means wide in Spanish and refers to the chile's broad girth. Pasilla, slim and almost black, actually is a dried chilaca chile.

The poblano is the foundation of Mexico's most patriotic dish, chiles en nogada — chiles are filled with meat, nuts and fruit and topped with a luxurious nut sauce. Parsley and pomegranate seeds scattered over the pale sauce represent the red, white and green of the Mexican flag.

Chile poblano means the chile from Puebla, a city that has played a key role in Mexican history and cuisine. Chiles en nogada was devised to honor Gen. Agustin Iturbide when he passed through Puebla on his way back from signing independence documents in 1821. The new flag had just been adopted, and the creators of the dish, probably nuns, thought of an appropriate garnish — bands of pomegranate seeds and parsley on the white sauce.

Complex and aristocratic, chiles en nogada well suits the holiday season. In September, Puebla's restaurants put their best efforts into this dish. The Spanish Kitchen on La Cienega Boulevard in Los Angeles also serves this dish; chef Hugo Molina's version ranks with any I have tasted in Puebla or other parts of Mexico. The ornate picadillo filling combines pork and beef with dried cranberries, apricots, prunes and tomatoes. Molina sweetens it with honey, pours in a cup of sherry and adds fresh oregano along with cinnamon and cloves.

It has richness — the sauce, or nogada, blends goat cheese, whipping cream, sour cream and milk with almonds, walnuts and even more sherry.

Poblanos shine in a silky cream soup from Cien Anos in Tijuana. This restaurant is known for innovative, high-end Mexican food. Its crema poblana blends in ground almonds and shows off large Baja California shrimp.

In Ensenada, Benito Molina Dubost of Manzanilla restaurant makes green polenta with pureed poblanos. But be sure to test the poblanos for heat before adding them to the polenta. If they are very hot, reduce the quantity, or top the polenta with sour cream or thick Mexican crema to mitigate the heat. Molina says this is a fine side dish for carne asada, barbecued lamb, grilled quail or chicken.

But I would rather eat a big bowl of it all by itself, without anything to distract from that heavenly poblano flavor.