Jun 29, 2011

If my husband can eat it, it's not spicy

Apologies for the recent lapse in posting. To be honest, I have cooked this week, but I didn't feel like the dishes were quite blog-worthy yet - they need a little something still. Another reason for the lapse is that I haven't been feeling too great the past couple days. Not sure what it is, but I think it's starting to get better this afternoon. Oh yeah, and my monitor went nuts for a couple days, but I think (fingers crossed) after an hour Brian spent on the phone with Dell people to no avail, that little ol' me may just have figured it out.

So instead of posting my nothing-to-write-home-about quesadillas from the other night, I'd like to take this time to get something else off my chest concerning eating out: if you say it's spicy on the menu, then - and I know this is asking a lot - it should actually be spicy. My husband should not be able to eat it without experiencing some pain and discomfort. Please don't lead me on with your little chili peppers unless you really mean it. 

Sometimes I really don't think they take me seriously. (Is it the pasty white skin perhaps?) Maybe we can design a new rating system. There could be the "pansy spicy" and the "no, seriously - I want sweat to run down my temples and my sinuses to clear - spicy".   
  
 
They really must stop playing with my emotions. It's just so very disappointing. 
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2 comments:

  1. Echigo FarmJune 29, 2011 at 10:29 PM

    I agree, Jennifer. Your post reminded me of a meal I had in Japan. My favorite curry shop where I lived in Japan was run by a family from Pakistan and it was authentically spicy. As in, when you ask for spicy, you got spicy. They had a star rating system, and out of 5 I decided to go for 4 on my first visit. I was just in the mood to be smacked in the face by a dish of mutton curry. Well, it was sheer pain. Pain that had been lovingly and masterfully simmered for 8 hours in a secret traditional blend of 17 spices perhaps, but pain nevertheless. Sweat was rolling off my face, dripping in my food, blinding me and worrying my wife. There was no flavor, just hurt. I should say, there was a hint of very nice flavor in the first millisecond, but before I could wrap my mind around it... ouch. I couldn't even move my mouth.

    Of course, I couldn't stop eating either. But on that day I found my limit for spicy.

    Well, I stuck with 3 after that. Later, the master told me that actually they make it up to 8, but after 6 it's only for Pakitanis!

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  2. JenniferJune 30, 2011 at 8:35 AM

    I love this story! This totally sounds like something I would do - push it to the absolute limit and then suffer : ) Yep, I have also found my limit a couple times...But sometimes you just don't know til you try!

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