Friday, June 14, 2013

Sometimes I really can't handle the heat

I love to cook.  It relaxes me.  My kitchen is my sanctuary.

I got mad skills too.

This past weekend I decided that I wanted Mexican.  (To clarify, the type of food and not a type of guy.)

Fajitas to be exact. 

I didn't have any salsa.  I had everything I needed to make one, but decided since I had some fresh pineapple to make a sweet pineapple salsa instead. Yes, you guessed it, I am a chance taker. 

I found a pretty easy recipe on the Internet.

1/2 of a pineapple.
1 small red onion.
2 tablespoons cilantro
2 tablespoons of lemon juice
2 jalapeño peppers diced.
Salt and pepper to taste.

Okay, I am willing to take chances when it comes to ingredients.  In fact I will try anything once.  But I am not crazy about hot stuff.  I want to be able to taste my food and when there is a lot of heat in something I find that it stops my taste buds from working correctly.  So in anticipation of that I only added 1/2 of 1 jalapeño to the salsa.  

It looked beautiful.  It smelled beautiful.  

The taste?

Hmmm, how can I describe this in a way that makes complete sense and paints a picture.  

There was no taste.  None at all.  There was just heat.  Heat.  Hot.  Hot.  More heat.  All I felt was heat.  Too much heat.  It was so bad that I wanted to cut my own lips off.  And to top it off, I had no milk.  Luckily I remembered a container of Oikos Greek pineapple yogurt was sitting in the back of my fridge.  Thank you John Stamos for being so damn cute I bought your yogurt and had it on hand.  I was in pain for almost 30 minutes (which actually felt more like days that passed in a haze of pain and suffering) until I started to get relief from the dairy.

But the best part, and I can't even believe I am putting this out there, was when I got into the shower.  I thought I had washed all of the heat from the jalapeño off of my hands, turns out,  I was wrong.  And I don't even want to go into how I know I was wrong or what I touched that I later needed to slather yogurt over to get the burning to stop.  Trust me that is one mental picture you really don't need or want.  

Trust me.


abby mumford said...

yeah, i DON'T want to know. i'll just focus on packing my bags and arranging for the moving truck because i'm coming to live with you and the captain so you can cook for me all the time.

Linda G. said...

I am trying so hard not to laugh at your pain. Yeah...not succeeding. *giggle*