More Fun With Chile Peppers

   At Café Eurosia back in ’94 we had this super hefty kid, Vinny. We called him Wooba and despite his many good points he was a serious pain in the ass to work with. First off, he was my co-chef Timmy’s boy. Came to Boston with him and appointed himself T.C.’s watchdog, a 400-pound Chihuahua, running around yelping and nipping at the legs of the new guy in the house to see if he’d leave. He’d also eat half the food on the line before the night was through, with a particular fondness for shellfish. He loved everything edible but where shrimp were concerned he had a $30/night wholesale habit. That translates into over a c-note in lost revenue and I was having trouble impressing that on the big bastard. Didn’t want to fire him either – he brought color to the line and was dependable when things got hairy – but I was running out of ways to keep the crustaceans out of his giant maw. 

 

   My arrival at the helm of Eurosia meant that the Europe was generally out of the fusion equation and Southern US/Caribbean was in. With Tim’s expertise the Asian influences blew in more from the south and everything took on a more tropical flare. We had myriad chile types at hand and lots of stuffed distilled from them. As a Staten Island buffalo, Wooba had a low tolerance for spice and I turned to the hottest shit I had to break him of his shellfish addiction. He kept a small sauté pan to cook his shrimp so my initial efforts involved dumping minced habanero chiles in it when he wasn’t looking. Sent him screaming to the prep kitchen. Then into the walk-in fridge to guzzle a gallon of milk – it was priceless to see that rhino perched on a crate with rivers of dairy cascading down his face, chins, neck and coat. But it didn’t bring his shrimping to a halt – it just made him double check what was in his pan.

   So I’d rub some minced habs on a shrimp or two on top of the others – the easiest ones to grab because laziness works at all scales for the extra tubby. He’d eat, choke on the fire in his lungs and scream his way back to the milk crates. Didn’t stop his pillaging but he was getting cautious. He began to inspect his shrimps carefully. I had to resort to stuffing the shrimp’s digestive cavity with a whole mess of habanero seeds. Doing that was starting to border on violence in the work place. But as this bastard was incorrigible the course of action seemed reasonable. And it was the funniest deterrent yet since he went smashing through bodies and equipment to drink more milk than ever just before vomiting it all back up. Most folks would have thrown in the towel at that point and turned to more cost-conscious gluttony. Isaac, the sauce guy, would prep extra scallion pancakes for my snacking so I could easily suggest he make a vat of batter for Wooba. But the big boy had to push his luck one last time – the same night some of Tim’s NYC pals had come in with a bottle of pure habenero extract. Whatever the fuck that entailed, it was black as evil and smelled like the core of the earth. The little drop I tasted was like having Satan kick in your teeth and jam a cloven hoof down your throat. And wouldn’t you know Wooba had been leering at the shrimp tin like a prawn pedophile. I smeared all the shrimp with that plutonium sludge and gave them a toss to make the color diminish – they looked no darker than some individuals in a lot of tiger shrimp. Things were slow enough for me to be off the line and Vinny resumed his perpetual feast while I watched from the lounge.

   The howling was magnificent. With an open kitchen it scared the crap out of some customers, the clanking of flatware dropped on plates chorused Wooba’s pain. The usual routine ensued – milk by the bucket and some Herculean puking in the trash. The point was sinking in. But not ever was it fully made, go figure. He was still a poacher, but never when I was within sabotage range. 

 

   So is there lesson here? It’d be easy to think that some people just can’t be taught anything, But Wooba was probably more intent on not losing or at least not giving up until I did. Still we both could have benefited from having his humongous stomach stapled. But there is a little food science in the story too: Notice that Wooba’s agony increased as we moved from whole minced chiles through seeds and onto the extract? That’s because capsaicin, the actual anger in the soul of the pepper, is concentrated in the reproductive complex of the fruit: the seeds and pithy stuff they hang off of. If you take the seeds and trim all the whiteish ribs and whatnot from inside a habenero or other hot pepper then you taste their flavor contribution to a dish more clearly. You can always add some seeds later to rekindle the inferno.

 

 

Great Bungs of Fire!!!

If you’ve spent any time chopping up chiles you’re probably more than familiar with the nifty effect thre residue has when transferred from your fingers to other body parts. Like your eyes or – if you drink lots of coffee while cooking and have to pee after slicing hot peppers – your testicles. It tingles. It irritates. It stings, then burns and sends you screeching across the kitchen trying to turn the blowtorch off your eyes and get the molten lead off your nuts…

 

   That magic comes form the nasty little chemical capsaicinC18H27NO3,  for those who like to talk in letters and subscripts – contained largely in the seed and pith of chiles. The fun heat it brings to our mouths in food becomes a horror when applied to other mucous membranes or sensitive swaths of skin.  What is one to do? Well, you could keep your fingers out of your eyes and off your privates, dummy. You could wear gloves when preparing chiles but that’s something that this dummy here has never done. So you just need to get your paws clean before they wander off to different regions of your anatomy.

 

   Soap is the obvious choice but it turns out to be a weak one. The pernicious capsaicin lingers after several scrubs with ordinary hand soap. Liquid dish soap does a better job but you really need something acidic to get the crap off your fingers. Rubbing your hands with a lemon or lime slice seems to be the best trick I’ve learned. And vinegar comes in handy when you’re out of citrus. Windex works too and leaves you crystal clear, streak-free thumbs.

 

   There you have it, problem solved. Unless, of course, that chile essence winds up somewhere it really shouldn’t go…

 

   Since he could stand up on a chair, my boy Jack has always loved cooking with me. By two he even knew the difference among peppers – loved to snack on red bells, was always willing to take a nibble off the end of a jalapeño and that the tiny little Thai chiles Dad likes are better just for looking at.  He was also decent at paying attention to warnings, as much as any tyke can be. He wouldn’t touch pans on the stove – as long as I was there to remind him. But the only way a toddler finally gets the distinction between the heat he can feel in the air and an actually burn is to try picking a blueberry pancake right off the skillet. You gotta stay close to the action when your kids are in the kitchen.

 

   So one swell spring day at our apartment in Somerville I was making a tomatillo salsa while Jacko trotted bare-assed around the joint (He was 2½ and potty training). He pushed a chair over to the counter to watch the process.

 

“Are those chiles, Daddy?”

 

“Yep, they are Bub – they’re Serrano chiles”

 

“Ohhh. Schwanno chiles are hot.”

 

   See? He got it. I was done chopping them so I went to the fridge for a lemon – had to get the residue off just in case there was some bum wiping to be done soon. In the meantime Jack started playing with the pile of chiles.

 

“Whoa, Jacko! Be careful now, pal. Do not touch your eyes or your nuts – the chile juice will burn them. I’ll clean your hands in just a sec…”

 

   He stood there pondering the possible painful effects his fingers had acquired as I rubbed a lemon chunk over my hands. Perched on a chair with nothing but his favorite shark t-shirt I chuckled inside, Boy wouldn’t it suck if he put his fingers in his ass…

 

   Which, naturally, he did.  Whether he’d taken some extrasensory cue from me or just had a sudden insistent itch I was frozen in terror over what he did nimbly and quickly. His left hand reached back to pull one cheek aside while he dug his right index finger into his poop-chute.  Oh my fucking lord, we’re in goddamned trouble now. I was in a deep panic over what to do before it hit him. It took a few seconds for his expression to go from puzzled to deeply anguished. The screaming started and I had new, challenging mission in my life as a parent. I had to quell the flames in his ass and I had to do it in a hurry.

 

   I rinsed my hands fast and looked at the lemon. No freaking way. If things got bad I’d have a tough enough time explaining chiles in my kid’s bum to an EMT, let alone a big squeeze of citric acid in there. What the hell was I going to do? Take him outside and put a hose in his rectum? His face had gone purple in agony while I raced into his room looking for some sort of balm. Diaper rash cream? Probably do very little. Vaseline? Probably make it worse. There didn’t seem to be anything with hydrocortisone in it – not that I knew that a steroid cream would help. Boy was I ever fucked and my son was feeling the same way a hundred times over. And then I spotted something…Baby Anbesol. Teething ointment! I could numb his little pucker until the residue  was taken care of by his body.

 

 

   I put a big squeeze of the junk on my finger, pushed it up his bung and smeared the rest around his reddened ravine. The lidocaine smothered the flames as quickly as the capsaicin had set them.  Jack calmed down and gave me one of those giant sighs you hearfrom firefighters after putting out a five-alarm blaze.“Wheeeeewww! Daddy, I don’t ever want to touch schwannos again…”

 Lemons for your hands. Windex for your balls. Water, or saline solution, for the eyes. And always keep a tube of Anbesol around just in case a Habanero winds up in somebody’s ass. Because you never know….