Sometime in late July, the parking lot at Central Market stops smelling like a parking lot. The roasters fire up — big black drum roasters that tumble the chiles over open flame — and the smoke carries across the lot and into the street and into the cars of people driving past who don’t even know what they’re smelling yet but slow down anyway. That’s how Hatch season announces itself in Dallas. You don’t read about it first. You smell it.
Continue reading
