Man Discovers Fire

Doug has a cooler full of shrimp. A cooler FULL of shrimp bought fresh off the docks yesterday morning and driven straight here.
So, you might ask, what does a man that owns a restaurant do with a cooler full of fresh shrimp?
Why, he calls my poppie with an invitation to a Sunday Eat All Kinds of Shrimp All Day Long Event, that’s what he does.
Doug just loves to cook for Pop. My dad is the only person Doug knows that loves to eat just as much as Doug loves to cook it. Pop’s generous with the praise too, and Doug likes that almost as much as he likes to cook for Pop. After all, it was Pop that said he’d marry Doug if I should happen to turn him down. There’s a bond that only men with The Belly can understand.
Doug especially likes that Pop will come and eat with him all the things I consider icky. Leg of lamb, seafood, and all those delicacies I can’t manage to develop a taste for, he can get a healthy portion or two together and it’s cause for a great big old eat fest.
Pop’s a closet chef himself and he hovers around Doug discussing the latest episodes of Emeril and other Food TV greats while exchanging information on their latest recipe experiments. It’s like boys night out only without the out part (unless they cook on the grill, that is). They’re quite a pair.
So today the theme is shrimp. Shrimp cooked all kinds of ways, all day long. It was like having our very own Bubba. And being the lucky day that it is for those smelly-food-loving-men, Paula made a Fiery Cajun Shrimp meal that had Doug chomping at the bit to try.
One of Doug’s goals in life is to make a meal hot enough to do for Poppie. Not spicy. HOT. Pop has a tolerance for heat that’s pretty amazing. Actually, my whole family does, so I’ve often wondered if it’s an inherited trait. People in my family will save a portion of particularly hot peppers and offer a bite to anybody and everybody that comes into the house for a visit. My uncle is particularly fond of sharing in this manner. He’ll greet you with the customary pleasantries but it’s only a matter of moments before he heads to the fridge and comes out holding something delicately wrapped in a napkin and tucked inside a sandwich baggie for safe keeping.
“You want to taste something hot?” he says, eyes wide with that mad scientist look. “Try a bite of this one here.”
He unwraps the napkin tenderly, careful not to touch the fiery hotness of the prized pepper (usually cayenne) inside.
“I had some the other night with a plate of pintos and whooo weee, I had to save some of it for you.”
He’s just about ready to break into a giggle at this point.
“It’s a real butt burner, that one.”
Of course, Pop is always willing to give it a try. He stands calmly while my uncle rubs his hands together in sheer delight while waiting for him to burst into flames, but Pop usually takes another bite and says “Yeah, that’s pretty warm.”
No sweating bullets, no itchy ears, no hiccups. Nothing.
So it’s become a mission of Doug’s to make the kind of hot that Pop would call hot. When we were in New Orleans, Doug shopped hot sauce in every store we went to. He carefully read each bottle, considered seriously spending the $23.00 on the bottle that came with a mini fire-extinguisher attached, and paid careful attention to what choices were laid out at restaurant. It’s serious business, this hot sauce stuff. He settled for Dave’s Insanity Sauce.
The label reads: A great cooking ingredient for sauces, soups, and stews. Also, strips waxed floors and removes driveway grease stains. Enjoy!
WARNING Use this product one drop at a time. Keep away from eyes, pets, and children. Not for people with heart/respiratory problems.

So they sat down with Paula's Fiery Cajun Shrimp and Dave’s Insanity Sauce. The first thing I hear from the kitchen is a lot of manly whooping as Doug’s first taste gave him the hiccups. Pop was sweating the proverbial bullets and I laughed myself near to death.
Doug says he may have the cure for balding. Hours later his scalp still tingles. Pop thinks he might regain feeling in the upper part of his body sometime within the next couple of hours. Doug is pleased as can be that Pop used more napkins to wipe sweat from his face than butter from his fingers. They’ve both just woke up from their naps (yes I checked to make sure it hadn’t given either of them heart failure) and are beginning preparations for round two.

Now, I like it hot, but not that hot. I think I’ll pass.