My wife's garden has been producing an abundance of hot peppers and we needed to do something with them before they decayed in the crisper, so I cut them, deseeded them, and roasted them on the grill-- it was too hot to do them in the kitchen (honestly, it was too hot to do them on the grill-- it was 95 degrees yesterday) but I did not wear gloves when I cut the peppers and my hands got covered in capsaicin and they burned and burned, though I washed them . . . and I took a bike ride to the pool and swam a few laps but that didn't help either-- in fact, they burned even more-- and it turns out that Homer Simpson was right, as "alcohol . . . the cause of and solution to all of life's problems" would have remedied the pain (and, in not so great news, I also read about a recent study that found that people who drink more than five alcoholic drinks a week have shorter telomeres and thus are aging faster than those that drink less . . . dammit, so much for the "pickling yourself" theory).
3 comments:
aging faster, perhaps. but enjoying the process more.
You should have pickled the peppers.
pickling peppers is a pungent (and punishing) project
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