Sensitive palate

I hate spicy food. I’m inclined to think it doens’t like me much, either.

When I eat spicy food (and what to me is “spicy,” to most people is “kinda spicy,” and to anyone in most of Asia is “ridiculously bland”), it’s no good. It sets my mouth on fire and then decides to pretend my gastrointestinal system is a mechanical bull.

The problem with being extremely sensitive to spice is that unless you’re eating with other people who are, they tend not to notice when a restaurant has a predominantly spicy menu.

This is how I ended up eating about half an order of chicken and a huge bowl of rice for dinner.

My dad, who has a fine tolerance for spice, didn’t realize that the place we were going tonight had almost all spicy food. The only thing that wasn’t spicy was the Caesar salad, which in retrospect, I probably should have had instead.

But I decided, okay, chicken shouldn’t be that bad. Ha! I ended up drinking about half a gallon of water and had to ask for a seperate bowl of rice after I thought my mouth was going to literally burst into flame.

I know I’m a wimp, but that hurt, goddamn it. But whatever, it happens. I just know I’m not going to be going to sleep anytime soon. Yay for that.

However, tomorrrow, I think, will redeem. It looks like tomorrow night we’re going to one of my favorite restaurants here, which has the most hilarious name ever if you speak Italian: Il Naso.

For those who don’t, that translates to The Nose.

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