“The summer months are slow and then Hatch hits and people are coming in and asking us, ‘How are the peppers going to be? What is the heat level? When will they arrive?’” says Chris Bostad, Central Market’s head of merchandising. He adds that people will show up with large coolers to fill with Hatch chile products; it’s second only to the holidays in terms of busiest times of the year. Throughout the season team members will roast Hatch chiles outside the stores to perfume the aisles with that sweet, roast-y smell and get customers excited.
Another aspect of the Hatch hype machine: the Hatch Chile Festival in Hatch, New Mexico, every August. What started as a small gathering of 500 in 1972 has grown into 20,000, complete with chile eating contests and a make-your-own ristra workshop (referring to the decorative arrangements of dried chiles popular in the region). Sissy Franzoy, one of the festival organizers, says that after the festival was featured on the Food Network in 2003, attendance skyrocketed, drawing visitors from Japan, Australia, and Germany.
That Hatch Chile Festival queen!
I ask Schroeder if the New Mexico Chile Association is actively marketing the Hatch chile (similar to, say, the American Kale Association or Avocados From Mexico board). She laughed. They don’t need to. The Hatch chile is embedded into the culture. It’s a full-blown mythology—a spicy, smoky, southwest fantasy filled with emerald green peppers growing in lush fields.
If anything, a big problem Schroeder faces is Hatch chile fraud, people growing other varieties of green chiles elsewhere in the world and giving them the “Hatch” label. Unfortunately, there’s not much anyone can do about that, she says—it’s too hard to monitor.
But the New Mexico farmers have mixed feelings about the way in which their chile has exploded in popularity. On the one hand, they’ve seen a steady rise in business. On the other, what’s to prevent the Hatch chile from going the way of pumpkin spice, becoming a cliché so tired that there’s a Bath & Body Works scent named after it?
“Those are novelties,” says New Mexico farmer Lytle, referring to the Hatch chile beer and Hatch chile cookies. “The real chile people like [Hatch chiles] in enchiladas and chile con carne and stuff. When we eat chile, we eat the chile. We don’t just put a little here and there as seasoning.”
H-E-B’s vice president of produce Kyle Stevens believes “people have an emotional connection” to the pepper in a way that they don’t for something like pumpkin spice. “It is a more romantic story than a latté. When you think of Hatch, you think of farmers and chiles and work, and you can connect with that.”
Every season the thought crosses his mind: “Is Hatch played out? Is it done?” he says. “The answer is no. There will always be a mystique.”
