Let me demonstrate.
Red Light/Green Light Salsa Making
Green light: Baby G is happy and gurgling away, telling me some wild story that I somehow missed in our last 8 hours together. As I nod and ask her probing questions (then what happened? you don’t say? Well, I never!), I get out the veggies, the pan, the aluminum foil, and….
Red light: Something has gone horribly wrong! I missed the punchline and Baby G is not happy. Funny voices and cooing ensues and then….
Green light: Baby G is content again. I chop the tomatoes and onions. I have almost assembled my pan of veggies and then I can’t find the d*!& garlic. I am tearing through the pantry and the fridge. Baby G picks up on my state and begins to cry. I manage to peel the garlic and entertain her at the same time. Step 1 done:
Red light: For Baby G, minor irritation has given way to being just plain pissed off. I abandon the veggies and feed her.
Green light: While I am burping Baby G, I turn on the broiler, throw the veggies in, and set the timer for 15 minutes.
Red light: 20 minutes go by before I can back, but that just means the veggie are more charred.
Green light: I set down Baby G (who has still not gotten over the garlic fiasco) and quickly flip the peppers and other veggies that need flipping. I throw the veggies back in, set the timer for another 15 minutes, and pick her up before the incident has escalated. In some miracle of miracles, I am able to take the veggies out of the oven as the timer goes off.
Red light: We have officially hit the witching hour for Baby G. As much as I would like to proceed, I have to leave my perfectly charred veggies and keep her happy.
Green light: We made it through witching hour! My happy baby is back and gurgling away, telling me her side of the story with squeals, grunts, and arm waving. (I can tell she has my flair for the dramatic already). As I converse with her (with squeals, grunts, and arm waving), I juice one lime, and measure out 2 tablespoons of sugar. I throw the juice, the sugar, and the veggies in the food processor….
Yellow light: I see a frown crease Baby G’s forehead. I cover her cheeks with kisses as a diversion and then quickly cover the food processor bowl with plastic wrap….
Green light: I throw on the cover, hit the button, and take a deep breath. As the machine whirs, I tickle Baby G, and voila! Salsa!
Red light: The machine was just too much. She is crying and I leave my salsa waiting to be jarred on the table. It’s not until Manatee gets home that we can do an official taste test and pour into a waiting Mason jar.
So why is the Easiest Salsa Ever?
Very little cutting and no chopping!
You can make this salsa while seriously multitasking, whether you are entertaining a small child, talking on the telephone, taking blog pictures, or cleaning your kitchen. I have made it while doing all these things and one time while doing all these things at one time.
And I guess that’s the end of the why portion. Now let’s talk about the actual salsa.
It’s sweet, tangy, smoky, and bursting with fresh garden flavor. It’s my go-to summer salsa. As we move into the craziness that is the school year and the year end tomato harvest, I hope you give it a shot.