Young, Cool Foodies

I have never been a particularly adventurous foodie. I like what I like. I am, however, open to expanding my universe. I went to work in a large city with a group of city folks who have a much larger food universe than I. These are young, cool , foodies who take advantage of the thousands of food options that are available in the city. They invited me to share their foodie experience and I jumped at the chance.

While I may not be particularly adventurous I have definite likes and dislikes. I like spicy food. Let me clarify that, I like food that I make that is spiced the way I spice it. I generally don’t eat spicy foods that cause my throat to clench and my eyes to water. It’s just a personal rule that I have. It has worked well for me so far. This past summer we did, at the request of my son, plant pepper plants which had the word “dragon” in the name. This is not a good sign for someone like me but I went along anyway with the agreement that I would not have to touch said peppers. He and his father took care of said pepper plants, including picking them, and drying them. They had to wear surgical gloves when doing those activities, which was a sign to me that I had made the right decision. My part of the whole experience was to buy the surgical gloves.

The young, cool, foodies were going to a Chinese restaurant that has a reputation for having really hot food. I was very excited to be going. This restaurant rates the dishes from a 3 to a 10 with 10 being the burn your hair off. I chose what I thought would be a safe dish. It was rated a 3. The young, cool foodies assured me that it wasn’t too spicy. Here is a observation that I should have picked up on. Never, and I mean never, take spicy food advice from people who order 6 to 10 levels. These nice people have had the sensory nerves on their tongues melted. They can’t feel anything. I did not pick up on this. My dish came and it was spicy. It would have been a 6 or 7 on my scale. It was definitely not a 3 in my universe. I also wondered if the chef had made my 3 hotter than the normal 3 because I asked for silverware. Apparently that is a no-no. The waiter looked at me like I had just asked for his social security number. It was a big “how dare you” face. They didn’t have a knife but were kind enough to furnish me with a fork.

 My throat was clenching a little. I was managing the heat by alternating between drinking huge amounts of water and eating white rice, which in my heat impaired mind, was serving the same duty as bread if you are eating really spicy Italian food. It calms the heat effect down. I was hiding the whole burning my mouth rather well I thought. I was starting to feel pretty comfortable with my level of spice endurance. Then one of the young, cool, foodies suggested that I try a dish that she had. She assured me that it wasn’t too hot. This is the part where picking up on the never take spice advice from people who order the 6-10 level comes in. I jabbed my fork into the dish, picked up three or four of the little goodies, and plopped them in my mouth. That was the second mistake. I should have gotten one, not four. My eyes got the better of me. They just looked so good. My throat started to clench and burn. My eyes started to water. I couldn’t get to the water and rice fast enough. I also couldn’t talk. Not one word was able to leave my lips. My co-workers were asking me if I was all right. I nodded and that required effort. It took a few minutes of inhaling rice and water to calm down my throat. The young, cool foodies were all concerned. Eventually I was able to speak, and my eyes started to focus again. Then it was over. I actually enjoyed the experience. I could have lived without loosing the ability to talk, but the food was good and the company was better.

Two weeks later they were headed back to the burn your throat restaurant. I jumped at the chance to go back. I was not going to be caught off guard this time. I ordered the same number 3 with a large bowl of rice. Preparation is the key. I also ordered spring rolls, which are also not spicy at all. I was doing well. One bite of spicy, one bite of a roll or rice followed by water if needed. It was a one for me and one for them methodology. Then the young, cool, foodie asked if I wanted to share. It was the same dish as before. I said yes. This time, I had one, cut it in tiny pieces and ate it with a fork full of rice. I may have looked ridiculous cutting and eating tiny pieces and rice but hey, I never lost the ability to speak so it was worth it. I win! Next up…restaurant week!