Friday, October 17, 2003  

Liquid fire.

When Tracy and me were first married I couldn’t stand spicy food; the mildest curry would burn my mouth. In fact when we went for a curry after a night out I used to have chicken Maryland, one of the ever present items listed under “English food” on the curry shop menu. Never could fathom that one, unless there’s a Maryland in Yorkshire somewhere. As the years passed I became less sensitive to the spices and even managed a chicken korma on occasion, gradually working my way up to a rogan josh via bhuna and massala. About eighteen months ago the taxdodger came home with his girlfriend and we decided that we would have takeaway for tea. The general consensus was that we should have pizza, I wasn’t really in the mood but the pizza shop does other stuff so I went along with the majority. I settled on burger and chips but somewhere in the order I was asked if I wanted chilies on my burger, I must have misheard and vaguely remember saying yes to whatever I thought the geezer had just said. My first bite of what I later found out was a chiliburger is difficult to describe, it felt like someone had poured Napalm down my throat and lit a match under my bollocks. My body temperature went up a couple of degrees instantly, a hot sweat broke out on my forehead, my face went the colour of a very angry beetroot and my lungs refused to let air in or out. After about thirty seconds of sheer agony, during which time Tracy thought I was having a stroke, I managed to get out a strangled cough and sat back to contemplate what had just happened. The first words I uttered after I had recovered were “That was absolutely fucking gorgeous” and it was, even though it was painful. I ate the lot, and since that night I have enjoyed hotter and hotter things. My latest addiction is Tracy’s home made chili dip for tortillas, it’s madly hot and extremely tasty, the perfect accompaniment to beer.

Tracy’s fucking hot chili dip™


1 large juicy Tomato.
Half a red Pepper.
1 clove of Garlic.
1 small green chili, with seeds intact.
A squeeze of Tomato ketchup.
1 teaspoon of Olive oil
Chili powder to taste.

Lob the fucking lot into a food processor and waz it until it’s smooth. Pour into a dish and chill for a couple of hours. Buy a bag of M&S slightly salted Tortillas and a shit load of Czech lager. Robert will be your father’s brother.

| posted by Simon | 10:07 pm | 0 comments
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