A Soup Success

Three weeks ago Kelsey attempted to make a vegetarian chili. The recipe called for two jalapenos from a diced can of jalapenos. Kelsey followed the whole recipe: added on can of chick peas, one can of kidney beans, diced a green pepper, sliced a carrot, etc etc. I don't know the whole recipe. I couldn't tell you all she did right, but I could tell you what she did wrong: she decided to add an entire can of jalapenos instead of just two peppers.

As the soup cooked, our house started to smell like the inside of volcanic taco. Kelsey couldn't smell the peppers. She was too close. She'd been in the kitchen as the smell grew from a baby odor to a tyrannous stench. Meanwhile, I was dying. I feared the smell would be firmly in charge of our house for months, years, forever. I even made up errands just to get out of the house.

Kelsey figured out something was wrong when she served the soup. We each had a bite, put on a fake smile, and tried to choke down the rest. I don't remember who said what, but here was our conversation: "Do you think it's too hot?" "Oh it's good." "Yeah. It has flavor." "Yes. A hot flavor." "Too hot?" "No."

We lied. It was WAY too hot. It was impossible to eat. I left that night for a bit and when I came back, the house still stunk.

Neither Kelsey nor I enjoy hot, spicy foods. We'll eat the occasional spicy food, but nowhere in our palate does "lots of jalapenos" exist. But Kelsey didn't quit. She never does. She made the soup again yesterday. This time she left out any and all jalapenos. It was delicious. I've already had three bowls.