Apr 25, 2008

Her Birthday Lasted All Week!


It was the Mrs.'s birthday on Sunday, which was an enjoyable day. To complete her birthday week, she was treated to dinner at Giuseppe's Italian Restaurant tonight, courtesy of her parents. Lucky me! I'm her husband, so I got to go too! Actually, we all had a great time.

My favorite ingredient of the antipasto at Giuseppe's is the peperoncini.. I'm not sure who they purchase their peperoncini from, but they're always fiery enough to enjoy a little cold beaded sweat, but not so painful as to cause the 5-alarm fire in the mouth. Except for the third peperoncini I ate. It had a delayed fuse. One moment, I was fine. The next moment, I was experiencing more than cold beads of sweat. The heat from that last peperoncini was so intense, I considered sticking a lit match in my mouth so the flame would cool off the burning sensations.

Of course, during these uncomfortable dining moments, you still nod politely at the dinner conversation around the table, being extra careful to maintain that pain-free even strain on your face. In an Italian family like my wife's family, you must never let them see you sweat a peperoncini. You'll never hear the end of it. So you sit and suffer silently the pain of 1000 degrees Celsius in your gums and tongue.

Thank goodness the pizza arrived shortly after the fire started. Pizza crust is the best antidote for killer peperoncini. One word of advice, learned the hard way: Never, ever ever drink any liquids if you're suffering from any sort of hot pepper supernova in your mouth. It just makes the fire glow hotter and longer. Go with the pizza crust, or a piece of bread, or some rice, if you're in a Kung Pao blast zone.

I know, I know. I was supposed to write something nice, loving, and meaningful about the Mrs.'s birthday celebration, not something selfish like the PAIN I SUFFERED tonight. But that's just the kind of guy I am.

I also ate the last piece of her birthday cake today for lunch. That's also the kind of guy I am. I'm allowed, anyway. The guy who baked the cake gets the last PIECE of cake.

Happy birthday, Mrs. Canfield!

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