My date with a habanero ...
Friday, February 20, 2009
I cook a lot with hot peppers. Having been raised in a town that was one-fourth Mexican, I developed a taste for raw jalapeno peppers at an early age. So my tolerance of hot is pretty high.
One time years ago, I decided to make my own Jamaican jerk seasoning, which called for a raw scotch bonnet pepper (aka habanero), which is one of the hottest peppers on the planet. The recipe warned, as do all recipes in which you handle raw peppers: WEAR GLOVES! Well, having cut thousands of jalapenos in my life with no problem, I ignored the advice.
So, after mincing the very-fragrant scotch bonnet pepper, I had to go to the bathroom ... Number One ... which meant I had to handle a very-sensitive piece of personal equipment with my hands.
You guessed it: Within seconds, my you-know-what started stinging ... and within minutes blisters started to form, and I started running through the house, screaming obscenities. (I was alone; my wife and her visiting parents were taking a fall-foliage drive through the country.)
I panicked. I had no idea what to do. Should I go to the ER? But what would I tell them? Surely they wouldn't believe me; they'd think I had tried something kinky. I had to do something ... but what? Now, I can't explain clearly enough the pain here: I felt as if my tallywacker was on fire. Nothing less.
Not sure what to do, I filled a bowl with ice water, set it on the floor, pulled down my pants and positioned myself over the bowl. It helped to numb things down there, but the second I removed myself from the ice the pain returned.
In the end, there was scabbing. I kid you not. From a raw pepper.
And I have never cooked with habaneros again.
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9 Comments:
Peter Piper's peppered pickle?
NO...it's a peppered Peter...
Nothing, I repeat, Nothing, can possibly compare the the peppered Peter story, but here's my experience. After having handled raw jalapenos without a glove, I sufficiently scrubbed and rinsed my hands (or so I thought). I took my contact lenses out later that evening and the next morning . . . you guessed it. It was like my lenses were soaked overnight in hot sauce!! Not fun. Again, no comparison, but I least I didn't have to worry about what I'd tell the ER personnel.
That sounds awful, Scott.
Actually, I think I'd take a blistered tallywacker over hot sauce in the eye. I speak from experience...once when I was small, my brother pinned me down and poured Tabasco sauce into my eyes. I thought I was gonna die.
Or I wished he was gonna die.
Gross! Is this your last desperate attempt to get all senior women off your blog site? G
Gena: I find it impossible to extricate myself from junior-high humor. Perhaps it's time you unsubscribed....Funny, though....my subscriber numbers are higher than they've ever been. Guess that indicates the juvenile state of modern culture. :)
Did I not share with you my recent run-in, which culminated in sleeping with a full yogurt beard and gloves?
I thought for a brief period I would die. It was the eve of Practice Thanksgiving chez Pierce, and man, did I have a story to tell the guests.
I made the contact lens mistake too! I was rubbing jerk seasoning into chicken. Afterward I wash my hands, later washed dishes, took a shower and still the next morning ... you guessed it. Argh!
I know that the only way to get hot food to stop hurting your mouth is to eat bread or drink milk, I think it has something to do with sugars and fats. Maybe you should have dipped your peter into some yogurt. What an awful experience Ad!
Someone also told me citric acid works....limes, lemons, oranges....
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