Ellemental

I can cook. I just prefer not to.

Even if I DID cook, the meals would tend toward the bland, heavy, comforting food that I grew up with.

The VIM, he cooks. He likes to putter around the kitchen, likes to grow his own veggies, likes to experiment with different flavors and textures. It’s a match made in heaven. He cooks, we eat, I clean up.

This year he grew peppers. Some green, some jalapeno, some habanero. Although I’ve never been fond of spicy or hot food, I’ve been willing to try and eat everything he’s made. Why the heck not? I mean, it’s not going to KILL me or anything…

The other night it was pepper harvest time. The VIM asked me to cut up the jalapenos and habaneros into little slices so he could freeze them for later use (he probably would have made some kind of meal with them, but it’s also tomato harvest time, so he’s been busy perfecting his spaghetti sauce…)

Anyhow. I’ve heard about the evil habanero. That it’s the hottest pepper. The VIM warned me – after I cut them, don’t touch my face until after I wash my hands. No problem.

I didn’t realize that even after 24 hours, 2 showers, and approximately 645 handwashes that I’d STILL feel the heat on my hands. I ALSO didn’t realize that trying to take my contacts out several hours after cutting the peppers would feel like walking head-first into a nail gun.

Call me a rube – I underestimated the power of the evil habanero.

And now, to drown my habanero sorrows, I’m taking off on vacation. The beach.
Be jealous. Be veeeeeeeerrrrrrrry jealous.