Michelle Obama: The Light Podcast - José Andrés

Episode Date: September 27, 2023

Renowned chef and humanitarian José Andrés shares tales about his upbringing in Spain, where croquettes, paellas, bread crumbs, and fire taught him valuable life lessons. After ruminating on the impact his parents had on him, José jumps into the kitchen with Michele to show her—and listeners—how to cook a favorite recipe of his: his mother’s roasted red peppers. Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

My father, mother, loved to eat and loved to feed, and I think I have the same thing. My wife always tells me, do you see how much we spend this month in needing us? I'm researching and learning. But because nothing gives me more joy than to send food to friends or to share with anybody. And I think all of that comes from my mom-amada. Which can be a course, but I say it as a blessing. Welcome to your Mama's Kitchen, podcast that explores how we're shaped as adults. By the kitchens, we grew up in S.K.I.D.

I'm Michele Norris. Today, I caught up with a man who's always out in the world globetrotting for good and I got him to slow down enough to spend time with us in his kitchen. Like me, I got to spend a day with chef Jose Andres in his home in Bethesda, Maryland. Yes, sorry, but that's beautiful music. My kitchen is a long time friend. I've known him for years and I always like visiting his house Yeah, sorry, but that's beautiful music.

Jose is a long time friend. I've known him for years, and I always like visiting his house because it's filled with good smells, interesting objects from all of his travels, and the constant gurgle of laughter and something bubbling on the stove. It's like life is a party, and he is the host. But Jose is a celebrity chef known for his big heart as well. You've probably heard of Jose because of his philanthropic work. He and his team are always running toward disaster to feed those in need.

It started with the DC Central Kitchen in the nation's capital and grew into the world central kitchen after a massive earthquake in Haiti in 2010. Jose's team has fed thousands of people after the hurricane in Puerto Rico, the wildfires in California, and more recently in Maui, and they are a fixture in Ukraine, feeding towns ravaged by war. And of course, Jose Andres, who originally housed from Spain, is also known for his great food. His mother and father, who were both nurses, were also talented cooks. He made a name for himself in the U.S. by introducing innovative avant-garde cuisine that featured foam and smoke and deconstructed dishes.

In today's episode, you'll learn how Jose developed his relationship to food, how his father influenced his cooking, and how improvising when ingredients were scarce made him the chef that he is today. And when we get to the kitchen to explore the simple country Spanish food he grew up with, together we will make a special meal that was one of his mother's favorites when she wanted to make something that was just for herself. Roasted red peppers that are cooked down a second time on the stove top with garlic and then paired with a simple fried egg and a thick slice of toasted country bread.

It is for him a taste of home and we'll share how you can make it in your kitchen. When I thought about doing a podcast, built around that question, tell me about your mama's kitchen. You are one of the people I always had in mind because I've heard you talk about your mama's kitchen and I know you have such wonderful stories. I'm so glad that you joined us. And so here we are.

Tell me about your mama's kitchen. Close your eyes. Take me back there. What did it smell like? What did it look like? What do you remember? We were, I guess, in migrants. Inside the Spain, it was very young, because I grew up in Asturias, northern part of Spain.

But I have very far away memories of those moments. The moment I began having memories was moving to Barcelona. My father was in the North opening a new restaurant. And in five years we changed homes, I would say three times. From the suburbs, this kind of inner cities that they were growing as immigrants were moving into a big city like Barcelona, then we move inside Barcelona for a couple of years, and then we move to these little town courts and Tacoma de Ferbillo, 30, 40 minutes north of Barcelona into the mountains, into a very small village where you could see Barcelona far away in the distance, high up in the mountain, and where farming land was everything you saw.

In that house and my mom and father were able to buy, not house, but an apartment in the first floor, and we had a very little nice kind of garden that to me, it seemed like a never ending garden, but actually it was such a small thing that we barely could put their tent chairs and a little magnolia tree. And in that kitchen is where I remember obviously falling in love with cooking more ways than one.

So imagine, a very, very small kitchen, but that in a way, my mother, Monday through Friday, mainly, and my father, more on the weekends, will have the task of feeding my three brothers and I, and where I just remember my mom always making things out of nothing. They left over chicken at the end of the month. I don't have any memory of the dishes at the beginning of the month, we're always the ones at the end. When the fridge was totally empty,

because it was nothing left, we'll be always that, have piece of chicken that also is dry because we anyway had paper film at the time. My mom will get that, we'll chop it. She'll make a bachamel with olive oil and ore butter, maybe a little onion, chop, she'll cook it, and then she let flower to make what we call a rue, and then

she let the milk, and then she'll make this amazing creamy, thick, but saucy like milk, beshamel sauce, the then she add the chicken, or that egg, or a little bit of ham, whatever was left over. And then she'll rot them into flour, making little balls. And egg wash, used eggs that were whisked. It was any egg left, if not, it'll be water. And then bread crumbs. And the bread crumbs was fascinating because it also was the bread that was old during the week when gets hard. She'll break it in little pieces and you'll put whatever and you will grind meat or onion or carrots or bread. And she'll

then roll it in the bread crumbs and then fry. The fascinating thing was that my brother and I, we will, oh my God, we will die for those croquettes. We will be counting how many were coming out of the pan to make sure everybody was eating equally the same croquettes. But the fascinating thing was that usually you will make that the day before. And usually a night. Usually she made the croquettes at night. The mix, the dough, the bachamel, the milk. And to roll them, the bachamel will have to get

cold because they are difficult to handle if they are as creamy as my mom made them. But when she put it in the tray, in the refrigerator, at night, usually because I was the oldest one, I will be the one waking up. And slowly, with a making a lot of noise, in a house that every time you open the door, you could hear the griggy of the door. I'm going to the kitchen. And yeah, maybe it's not the way,

but with the fingers, so you will not leave anything behind and I'll eat a little bit. But what I will do very quickly was push him with my fingers. So nobody will notice that I am a friend. No fingerprints. No friend. No fingerprints. No fingerprints. No fingerprints.

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No fingerprints. No fingerprints. No fingerprints. No fingerprints. No fingerprints. No fingerprints. No fingerprints. No fingerprints. a big tray and then she'll always leave a little plate. Then we could do whatever we wanted with a little plate, but we couldn't ever touch the big pan again. Why? Because then we'll be very difficult for my mom to roll the perfect croqueta. But still to this day those croquetas is one of those dishes that obviously I remember my mom making, and for me to this day, it's been part of my life because I know my wife and myself,

we've made those croquettes for my daughters, and in fascinating ways, is one of the most popular dishes to in my restaurants. You see, it's almost like life going all around 360, that sometimes it starts in a little kitchen that you can barely fit a family of five. I love what you said that you remember the meals when your mom had to make do with what was just left in the fridge. Instead of the meals at the beginning of the month where there was probably plenty, right, where you'd probably had just gone to market and you had more

ingredients. What does that say about you? Why do you think your mind goes to the moments where she had to improvise and use it was just left in the refrigerator? I think what I'm describing and experiencing is something like, in a way that's a mother where you come from, what culture and what country, what drive you belong. That I'm sure many of us have experience, millions of no hundreds of millions.

And he's hard to explain because it's not about the perfection of your dish, it's about untangibles that are important ingredients that you cannot put in a recipe. Such as you cannot put love in a recipe. How do you write love? Because there's many ways to give love. Right. Love is coming home after a long day of work and still having the burden of having to feed you family.

That's responsibility, but it had to be love. And sometimes not knowing how you're going to do it. Sometimes, I don't know how to do it. I think those dishes show you the human creativity shining through, wherein the worst moments of humanity, humans, somehow, they've been able to make it through. And that's in the DNA of who we are. And I think this is something we all have.

It's a talent, it's deep inside every one of us, but that we don't really realize. And that's what I'm describing, my mom. I remember another digit, probably is one of the moments I thought, man, I like this thing of cooking. I'm guessing I was seven, eight, and we were visiting a distant relative, an ankle in a town called Rebes. And I remember we arrived there for one of the school vacations. I think this was during Lent, as we call in Spain, Semana Santa. And there we go. And we arrived to see this family member which we never met before, but was a distant relative up rain. And when we arrived there, there is these old homes

where with very thick walls, we've almost the house with no electricity, but like candles, like it was medieval times. But then we go into this house and remember, kind of dark, but the way of welcoming, not place that you felt like you were a sker, but a place you felt like home. And there we arrived and where he took us, even before he showed us our rooms, into this kind of big room that happens with the kitchen with a very big table. And with a beautiful, orangey light that kept changing because it was kind of a big fire he had in the back. And there he had this very big pod metal, like a cauldron. And he had in that wooden table in one edge, kind of a very big knife and a big disc of bread,

bread again. And it seems he was cutting with the help of the knife, crumbs. And I say it seems, because I didn't see it doing it until they are, he sat himself and began cutting more of those bread crumbs, like a big mountain of them, dengering some water with the fingers, and sprinkling the water on top of the bread, and then putting a little tablecloth on top. And there he was in the fire with this very big pot of metal

with a piece of bacon with no meat, just the pure fat that he had in there to make sure he starts melting. And then all of a sudden using that same tablecloth that all of a sudden was to cover the brake crumbs, putting it on the side of the brake crumbs, putting the brake crumbs on top of the tablecloth that all of a sudden was to cover the brake crumbs, putting it on the side of the brake crumbs, putting the brake crumbs on top of the tablecloth, and then using that tablecloth to bring them into the pot where he will put them over that melted bacon fat, and with a big wooden spoon. And for the next 30-40 minutes, he will be moving the bread crumbs that will have the right moist not too much or too little because if they had too much they will

become become like a very big crumxy kind of big bowl of bread and if they were to dry they will burn very quickly so they had to be not too much not too little but the sat amount of water, No something you can write in a recipe. Only the wisdom of life. And then he got a little pen that he put kind of in a little tripod, metal triangle thing that you see, the cowboys cooking the coffee in the movie. Oh, yes. That we'll have. I don't even know the name of it in Spanish or in English. And he will put the pen more oil. He'll start frying a neg at a time. And then he'll get these metal plates

and start putting one egg in each. And then getting with the spoon, covering them with the bread crumbs, the migas. And there you have all bread, bacon fat, olive oil, and the eggs and a little bit of salt. And I still, to this day, remember the plate of bread and eggs as something extraordinary. That's not my mother's kitchen, but that's

it's a kitchen of my life that show me that, wow, sometimes we overcomplicate things and that simple, simple things are very astonishing. Just listening to you describe that, it was theatrical. It's a process that must have fascinated you as a child to see him, it's not like he's scraping the bread. Yeah. Creating these breadcrumbs, as you're describing it, I can hear it. I can hear a knife chafing across.

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, and one by one, every crumb he carried himself. Not too big, not too small, but the right size. And it's many dishes of meiga's across Spain, many different issues. That one was probably the most simple one I've ever written in my life. And it's called Miga's. Miga's. Which means? Cramps. Cramps. You fell in love not just with the food but the process. What food represents? And the smells and the looks and the light of the fire. A fire that I told this story many times, but was the story of my father's show? We mean to control the fire.

Yeah, he will cook home, but nowhere he will be happier than cooking outside, in a camp, in the mountain, or more. We were camping and doing a big pie for friends. And if he could, he would make a fire. And you have a little grill when still you could make a fire in the open. It's still his places with the right weather and the right permission. And we would make this fire. And I would be in charge of making the fire.

You were in charge of that. Making the fire. My fire, I like to cook it with the fire. And I was Mr. Fire. You were Mr. Fire. We had to get the wood, get the twigs right on top of the wood, and keep it going. And keep it going. And if he will make one with chicken or rabbit, more of what we call the pie of an enthiana, you have to start to sustain the mids. And it's in the middle, more what we call the Piava and Pianna.

You have to start to sustain the mitz and it's in the middle, because if not the outside of the Pia burns, and you don't want the oil to burn, because it will give bad flavor. So the fire had to be with intensity, but only in the middle. And then the process will keep going, and he'll add the vegetables, and then the tomato, and the tomato will reduce and then you'll need to increase a little bit of fire in the moment. And then when everything is in the right moment to perfection, you'll add the water, then you have to have a very heavy boil and the water will have to boil 20-30 minutes because you want in that moment the chicken and the rabid

and all the flavors of the different ingredients to mingle and release the flavor into the water, the Dennis tub being water. Slowly was becoming like one of the most beautiful savory, meat, chicken, raviitas, stalks, ever thing about it. People say, you don't add the stock, no, we add water. The stock is gonna be made as we cook.

And then the water will start reducing a little bit because you put way too much for the quantity of rice you will need. But then my father will know when is the right moment to add the rice in the moment, more fire will have to increase. Then is the very super big fire will have to happen. And that's it. He will put in charge of doing that. The process was almost like going to mass, going to church, everything has its ritual, its moment. I'm moving without the script that you know the beginning and kind of you know the end, but will never happen twice in the same way of fashion. But making the fire was important. When I hear you describe Paya, I'm also thinking not everyone has been fortunate enough to have paya or a good paya.

And when you talk about that big paya pan, just a minute to describe that for an audience that maybe not everyone knows what it is. It is a big, it's not a skillet, it's not a walk. No. But it has properties of both. It's a big round pan that shall shape. I would say like a 45 degrees angle on the sides with two handles when it's small enough with four, six, eight as the pie keeps increasing. Because you've done pie as as big as the table that we're sitting at. Or bigger. Yeah.

And bigger. We have one that we do 500 people. And also it's very characteristic that you never feel them up to the top. Paeas are supposed to be, they need the space, the rice need the space. And it looks like it's almost in like an inverted spaceship. It's inverted. Yes. And it's funny. You you mentioned a spaceship because yeah, it looks like a satellite too. Because when I ordered one that came from Spain many years ago because I was cooking this very big band for the 20-year anniversary of a Leo, the 15th, and this thing is coming and is in customs, now for weeks, but for months, and will not clear customs. The paella pan could not clear customs.

What do they think it was? For weird reasons. And then one day they come again. I'm like, what the... But what it is is, is a paella, is for cooking rice. I've been saying the same story now for so often. Like... And why you need something

so big to go right? I'm like, okay, man, what do you want me to tell you? You know what? It's a satellite. The FBI is across my restaurant and it's used as a satellite to spy on the FBI. Well, let me tell you, we got that call, I think. We got that call. Really? Yeah. They thought it was a big thing. Well, whatever it was, we got that that B.C. We got that call. Really? Yeah. They thought it was a big family. Well, whatever it was, we got that B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C.

That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C.

That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. That B.C. I want to cook the pie and instead of going the fire. And he sent me away. Obviously, they ate with me, but my father got me at the end. And this is part of this romanticism I've been telling you of those moments of life.

I don't know if my father again was so deep or not. I wouldn't believe he was. And he told me, my son, everybody wants to do the cooking. Nobody wants to do the cooking. Nobody wants to do the fire. Master the fire, control the fire, find it, control it. And then you can do any cooking you want. Obviously, this is a fascinating story for a young cook in the making. Now that I made it to be a cook.

But this is a great metaphor for life itself. We are all trying to cook when we didn't even understood what our fire is. And I think that's important. And at least that's what I believe my father was trying to tell me. You're listening to the audible original, your mom is kitchen. Like what you're hearing, the next episode is available now, exclusively from Audible. You can listen to new episodes on Audible two weeks before you can hear them anywhere else. Your mother and your father were nurses. If they had been bankers or real estate developers, or insurance agents,

or any number of other things, do you think you would be different as a man and as a person? Do you think that one of the reasons that you are so focused in your own life on taking care of other people, unnerturing other people is because that's what they did. Is it literally in your DNA in some ways because of their work and their lives? You know, I had a very complicated relationship with my mother.

My mother was very fascinating. Woman loved by many, but my time was hard. And that's maybe one of the reasons why I always left home. So early, or let me put it this way, I found creative ways to be away from home. I had to be creative. It was complicated relation. And my father, you know, he was also very hands-on, hands-off, friend used to manage.

But my mom had up and down, that sometimes made it complicated. With that said, I think we are all created, used to remember the amazing good times, right? Because they are the ones that keep you going. And we have a tendency used to forget the bad ones. The thing is healthy.

Put it on a shelf. Yeah. And sometimes those demons of the past show up, sometimes I see myself in my mom, but I cannot blame for her because I'm a grown-up man. I have to control my own. But I think in a way, my mom made me in the good things who I am, right? And she was persistent, she never took no for an answer. You know, I know my mother,

my father were not the best ones managing money because they were so hard, but sometimes they were not good money in their money. Also Also they will be big givers meaning they'll invite everybody for the big spires and you know, you are middle class but you are working middle class and you know, every dollar counts. In this case every peseta counts. But my father, mother, love to eat and love to feed and I think I have the same thing.

My wife always tells me, do you see how much we spend this month in leading? I say, I'm researching. I'm not learning. But because nothing gives me more joy than to send food to friends or to share with anybody. And I think all of that comes from my mom, my mom, my dad. Which can be a course, but I say it as a blessing.

We always like to gift our listeners with a recipe, something that means something special to our guests, something that tastes like home. Jose Andreas is going to make the roasted red peppers that his mother used to make, but before we get there, he explains what that dish means to him. Los pientos asados de mamama risa. These red peppers was probably one of the dishes my mother made for herself. Like, if my mother could be gritty, that's the only way she ever show it.

And still she will share her with everybody. She loved this that much. Yeah, and I'm only telling you this, and I'm thinking about it right now, I'm thinking about it. Because she will never make a big quantity. It's not like the red peppers were expensive, but it depends the season they could be expensive.

And she will roast those red peppers were expensive, but it depends the season, they could be expensive. And she would roast those red peppers, pimientos, assados. And oh my god, that was the most delicious dish. And the fascinating part was that I like peppers, especially the green peppers. And before I realized that became one of my favorite dishes ever, my mom one day, those were in Papus. She put them for dinner next to peace of mint and I didn't want to eat them. And my mom said, okay, it's fine, but you're taking them to more to school and you will eat the green papas. She sent them to school. The teacher told her, he didn't need them. She took the papers by home for dinner. She came again, green papers.

I didn't need them. Next day to school, send me the green papers. She didn't make sure you ate them. And that night, I ate the green papers. And now, green papers, fry green papers. It's one of my favorite things in the whole world, with a little touch of salt. But this takes me to the red peppers, totally different flavor and total different preparation. But where are those plum big, long, midi, fleshy, beautiful,

ravish, ruby color red peppers. And she will put them in the oven. With her hands, almost like she will give them love on a most beautiful massage with the oil. She will make sure the skin will have a film of the oil. Allop oil on the outside. Allop oil. And she'll put them in the oven and roast them.

And you'll see how the upper part will get dry and slightly round, but the part touching the metal pan, well, it's the one that really will be cooking. So you'll have to keep turning them two or three times. And in 40 minutes, the peppers will be roasted. And then you'll take them out, and in the moment, you will be able to peel them. And she'll build them and I remember peeling the peppers is something that I enjoy enormously because all I've said in that dry opaque semi-barned peel will give

door and a window into seeing the flesh of the red pepper shiny and bell-bitty and they will lose part of their moist that that moist will end in the bottom of the tray and she'll take the seeds and she'll get these kind of red pepper strips she'll put that juice of the red peppers on the side and the skins and the seeds away. Then she'll get a terracotta pot and we'll cook them with holy foil and garlic. The garlic will brown, not too much, not too little. Use the right brown as we call dancing garlic. Ah, dancing garlic. The garlic is as dancing. You can chop, but usually she likes it this life. And then she'll put the peppers and then she'll add water. And then she'll add also the use of the red peppers. And she'll boil them slowly until the water

will almost evaporate completely. And then the use of the red peppers and the olive oil will become like this kind of emulsify sauce. And at the end she let Cherubinigur to bring acidity and play against the sweetness that the peppers were showing you. Those peppers, hot, we even better cold. Next to one fried egg, an apiece of bread that was heaven on earth. Mmm. That sounds so on earth. Mmm.

That sounds so delicious. And we happen to be in your house, so we can just take a few steps. Let's go. And go on the kitchen and try to... Let's go. Try to capture this in the kitchen. Let's go. We scooted over to Jose's kitchen, which is in a word spacious.

I mean, talk about a dream kitchen, but come on. What else would you expect from a world-class chef? Of course, his kitchen is amazing. Let me give you a quick scan of what it looks like in here. There's a massive picture window that looks out over the woods, and it gives the whole room a feeling of cooking inside while being outside. There is one central massive island with a cooktop and a halo of practical cooking instruments

of all kinds hanging from above. And next to the stove, every kind of olive oil, vinegar, and sea salt, you can think of. But what we're here for is looking right back at us. Gorgeous plump, ruby red peppers laid out as if slumbering on a sheet pan. Just begging to be roasted in the style of Jose's mother.

They look so relaxed. They are relaxed. I know who beautiful they are. Well, these are, these are in the farmer's market. They're so big and so hard. They're gorgeous. And that's very similar to the peppers. But these are big.

These are like, pokes nuclear. These are really big. It's big as big they can. So here's a quick rundown of how to prep the dish. But this is not a quick dish. You're going to need a little time, but it's worth it. Jose says you should massage the peppers with high quality olive oil, preferably Spanish olive oil, and then spread them out on a cookie sheet or sheet pan.

Then pop them in the oven at 300 degrees and roast them for about 40 minutes, turning often. And you just rub this with a little bit of olive oil. For this you can even get away with peanut and sunflower oil. Really? In the oven, the skins of the peppers will start to pucker and then turn brown and eventually blacken in some areas, but that's okay. Just keep turning them often so they don't stick to the sheet and cook evenly.

When they appear to be cooked on all sides after about 40 minutes, remove from the oven and let them sit for a minute. They may sink a little bit. It's almost like they exhale. So you see, we got the peppers. They've been in the oven 30, 40 minutes. You know they're ready because they are telling you they're ready.

Now, time to remove the stems and seeds. The skin separates, you see, has all these pockets of air. You can sense that the skin has been separated from the flesh. And they, oh, it just comes out so easily. Can I just grab a little piece of this and let me know? You should. Mm. Oh my goodness. Mm-hmm.

Oh my goodness. It's amazing. It's so sweet. Let me tell you, my stomach was roaring at this point, but we had more work to do because the peppers are cooked for a second round, this time on the stove. Remember the dancing garlic? Well, it's time for the garlic to shimmy in the pan.

This is what my mum will do. She'll cut them in slices. Me sometimes I use as much them. in the pan. The oil is getting hotter and the garlic is getting brown around the edges and you can just imagine the aroma as he starts adding these roasted red peppers. Once the skin is removed, Jose cuts the peppers into fleshy strips that have the weight of slices of flank steak. Now is the moment that the moisture in the garlic is being released into the hot oil and oil and water.

Okay. Okay, and now we're gonna wait. Is it dancing already? You see? You see the dancing? Yes, I see the dancing. oil and water. Okay. And now we're in the way. Is it dancing already? You see? You see the dancing? Yes, I see the dancing. It's chimmy, chimmy, chimmy, come back. And if he's chopped, even more dancing.

Everybody tells me, but Jose, when do I know it's the right time? Just listen to the ingredients. is the right time. Just listen to the ingredients. Watching him in his element surrounded by all of his tools, making a dish so dear to his heart was truly special. Now of course we're skipping a few steps here and there but hopefully you're feeling the deliciousness of this dish and as always, we'll have the full description for you on Instagram. It's beautiful. I almost don't, I don't want to dive in

because it's so beautiful. Chin, chin. To you. Thank you, my friend. I cannot really wear making my mom's red peppers. You know, it's been a long time I don't make this peppers. What? And she's here with us today.

She's right here with us. Boom. Mm. Well, that was fun. Thank you, Jose, for sharing your story and for sharing your heart. Jose Andres is a wonderful chef and an even better human being. I've known him for years, but I learned all kinds of new things in this conversation, and

I love getting to know more about his humble beginnings, and how doing good is almost encoded in his family's DNA. Jose reached back to Spain for this conversation, sharing memories that were both comforting and complicated. But isn't that the nature of life in the kitchen? Sometimes it's salty, sometimes it's sweet, often it's less than perfect. Jose had a tumultuous relationship with his mother when he was young. He left home early to find peace, to find adventure, to find and grow his relationship with

food. But time has a way of healing most things. Cooking those sumptuous peppers in his kitchen was a way to connect to his past and connect to his strong-willed mother Marisa, a woman with a heart of gold. You can experience those peppers, the pimiento zasados,

by heading to my Instagram page. We'll post a recipe and some pictures, but just be warned, pictures alone can never do these peppers justice. You might just try to make this in your own kitchen. I'm Michele Norris. Have a glorious day. Come back soon for another episode of Your Mama's Kitchen.

Thanks for listening. Be Bountiful. Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! Mmm!

Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! Mmm! This has been a higher ground and audible original produced by higher ground studios. Senior producer Natalie Ritten, producer Sonia Tun, and associate producer Angel Carreras. Sound design and engineering from Andrew Epen and Roy Baum. Higher ground audio's editorial assistants are Jenna Levin and Camilla Thertacouse. Executive producers for Higher Ground are Nick White, Mukta Mohan, Dan Fierman, and me,

Michele Norris. Executive producers for Audible, are Zola Masheriki, Nick DiAngelo, and Ann Hepperman. The show's closing song is 504 by the Soul Rebels. The editorial and web support from Melissa Bear and say what media our talent booker is Angela Paluso, and special thanks this week go to Inez Andres, Satchel Kaplan, the team at Think Food Group, Eli Turner, and thanks to Clean Cuts in Washington, DC. At A Votable Studios, Zola Masheriki, Chief Content Officer Rachel Giazza, and that's it.

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