I once went to a little hole in the wall Thai restaurant on the north end of Toledo. I ordered Panang or the closest thing I could find on the menu, as is my wont. They asked how spicy I wanted it and, having had far too many Americanized “extra spicy” dishes, I said as spicy as they could.
Now, this food was really good. But half way through the bowl, and having already drained the solitary glass of water they deigned to deliver to my table, I saw God. Which is intense for an atheist.
I finished the whole thing. I’m not sure if I was trying to prove something to myself or to them. I never got a single drop of water after that first cup, but I ate every ice cube.
Another time, I was in Thailand at a fancy restaurant. Eating Thai in America is different from eating it in Thailand. Different ingredients, different styles. And on the table was a small bowl of teeny peppers. I took them to be similar to pickled jalapeños, so I put a few onto my plate to mix with my food.
They were not pickled. Or least by the time I could taste again, I detected no brine. I don’t know what they were suspended in, but I can only assume it was secreted from the glands of a hell-beast, or perhaps squeezed out of an elemental ur-pepper.
My point is not to marvel at the myriad ways I’ve tried to kill myself with Thai food, but just to say I’ve never had a spicy shit in my life.
Venator@lemmy.nz 7 hours ago
Oh probably just desensitised gradually enough or early enough to not notice/remember it then 😅