Cooking Local Southwest: An Interview with Marilyn Noble

Arizona native Marilyn Noble has long been steeped in Southwest culinary culture: She grew up eating tamales, refried beans, and other local specialties at home, and she went on to study Agricultural Science at the University of Arizona. Since then, Marilyn has been active as a food writer and advocate, serving as the Arizona governor of Slow Food USA, penning stories on local food and agriculture for Edible Phoenix and The Counter, and authoring four cookbooks highlighting Southwestern food. Recently, the Tempe-based author poured her heart, soul, and deep knowledge of the region into a cookbook that honors the deep-rooted culinary traditions of the Southwest: The Little Local Southwest Cookbook.

We sat down with her to talk about friendly ghosts, the mother of all chiles, and the mysterious origin of the chimichanga.

What defines the Southwest? How does the Southwest’s history shape its food?

MN: It depends on who you ask, but Arizona and New Mexico are certainly considered Southwest states. As a foodshed, however, I would include parts of Utah, Colorado, Texas, Nevada, and Southern California. These areas were under Mexican or Spanish rule once upon a time, and they all have sizable indigenous influences. While food traditions can differ within the Southwest, the whole area shares a common history.

The indigenous people who lived here in pre-contact days were farmers and foragers. In the late 1600s, the Spaniards came and introduced grapes, figs, wheat, and cattle. Since then, immigrants from other cultures have arrived, bringing their food traditions with them. My mother’s Cornish family, who settled in Colorado and Arizona in the 1870s, brought with them food like pasties. My father’s side came from Poland in the 1850s. Growing up, we had things like kielbasa, and chicken and dumplings. Most people I grew up with have similar stories and backgrounds—French, Spanish, English, Italian, Jewish, Middle Eastern, Serbian, Mexican, Native American, Chinese. The Southwest is truly a melting pot.

What are the essential ingredients of Southwest food?

MN: The Three Sisters—corn, beans, and squash—are the most common components of Southwestern cuisine, and to that I would add chile in all of its glorious varieties. All these foods are native to northern Mexico and the Southwest. In fact, the chiltepin, a wild chile, is known as the mother, or progenitor chile; all other chiles are said to come from that one species.

Speaking of chiles, what are your three favorite recipes incorporating them, and why?

MN: I always have a jar of red chile sauce in my fridge because it’s so easy to make, and it can play well in just about anything—enchiladas, tamales, scrambled eggs, posole, a pork roast…you name it! Green chile stew is also a must in my house. You can eat it like stew with a warm tortilla, or pour it over a burrito or grilled steak. And one of my favorite indulgences is a big, juicy, green chile cheeseburger, hot off the grill.

Of all the recipes in the book, which one has the best origin story?

MN: The chimichanga. According to legend, Monica Flin, founder of the Tucson institution El Charro, accidentally dropped a burrito into the deep-fat fryer. She cut off the Spanish swear word on the tip of her tongue, and instead said, “Chimichanga!” Another story has it that Woody Johnson, founder of the Macayo’s Mexican restaurant chain in Phoenix, experimented with frying leftover burritos in oil to keep from throwing them out, and diners loved them. Others claim the dish came north from Sonora, Mexico, sometime in the middle of the 20th century. While the identity of the actual inventor is still a mystery, we should all be grateful to whomever was the first to deep-fry a burrito and make it even more delicious.

Are there any recipes in the book that you like to make for special occasions?

MN: My mom has been making Christmas tamales for decades, and I’ve been doing it with her for the past ten-plus years. On Christmas Eve, the family gathers, and we have a traditional tamale dinner with beans and rice and whatever anyone else decides to make. Unfortunately, tamale-making is becoming a lost art, because it’s time-consuming and labor-intensive. But it’s always fun to gather everybody and work together in the kitchen, just like our grandparents and their parents did.

What interesting adventures did you have while writing this book?

MN: Once I was done researching and writing the recipes, I took a mini-weekend retreat in Jerome to finish the manuscript. Jerome is an abandoned mining town in the central Arizona mountains with amazing views of the Verde Valley. At one point, I went out for a walk and, when I came back to my Airbnb, my notes were scattered all over the place. I guess the resident ghost was curious about what I was working on. Or maybe didn’t like chiles.

What did you love about writing this book?

MN: I love sharing the foods that have been such an important part of my life, and I hope others find as much joy cooking them as I do.

Interested in local cooking? Explore the United States through cooking with the Little Local Cookbooks, a series that highlights landmark culinary destinations around the country, including the Southwest, Texas, New Orleans, Cape Cod, Vermont, Maine, San Francisco, and Portland, Oregon.