She also hates chile inaccuracy. Having studied and photographed chiles for a large portion of her life, Kennedy picks up any irregularity. Not long ago in a Mexican restaurant in the U.S., spotting a suspiciously light–colored batch of chorizo, she asked to see the guajillos being used, and sure enough, was dismayed to learn they were Chinese imports— which had probably arrived in the States via Mexico. Then, back in Mexico in her local market, her eagle eye picked out varying shades in the guajillos—which the vendor then admitted had been imported from Peru. Of course, the problem is not a visual one: As local cooks had told her, imported chiles don't have the same flavor or bite. "They're driving me out of my mind," exclaims Kennedy. "I've been telling people to ask where the chiles are coming from. You must buy Mexican chiles."
In fact, Kennedy is so determined to have good–quality Mexican chiles available to Americans that she recently invited Steve Sando, founder of Rancho Gordo, a mail–order site for dried beans and other New World foods, to Oaxaca to meet some chile growers. And it worked. Weather permitting, says Sando, he could begin selling a high–quality selection of true Oaxacan chiles, such as dried black, red, and yellow chilhuacles, costeños, and chile pasilla de Oaxaca—all under the name "The Diana Kennedy Collection"—as early as October 2011.
Any Regrets?
I asked Kennedy—pioneer, homesteader, traveler, author of ten cookbooks—if there was anything she wished she'd done differently. The question seemed to catch her by surprise, and she paused for a long moment. "In what I've done…" she began, finally, "I'd like to have done more. I think I'd have taken more time. And better notes."
Kemp Minifie was wrapped up in all aspects of food at Gourmet magazine for 32 years, and is now a part of the Epicurious team.
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