I have talked often of my love for very spicy food. I like to eat things so chili-hot that my eyes water and I get a sort of sparkly endorphin rush. I don’t like heat for heat’s sake, though, so the dish itself has to be delicious and well made, and the chilies need to enhance rather than obscure the flavors within. You aren’t going to see me judging jalapeno eating contests any time soon. I’d much rather be slurping up Thai noodles and curries at Chiang Mai.
I love spicy food. I love it when I eat something so hot that I get a little high from it, or start to hallucinate just a little. I want to sweat and pant as I eat. It may seem sadomasochistic to you, but it’s my kind of fun. If I eat enough chilies, people seem funnier and prettier and project fuzzy pink auras. I’m not kidding. I do it all the time.