Last night I thought I'd prepare a little high vitamin grilled repast for the boy and myself before we were off to rehearse and study respectively.
The keynote event was the sicilian peppers I grew on the deck. Lipstick red, round, the size of golf balls, they don't look particulary hot. I stuffed them with little balls of mozzarella as is evidently traditional and threw them on the grill.
Well they may look innocuous, but the Italian name for the variety is baci de Satana (Satan's Kiss). I should have paid heed to the colorful name. My first was no big deal--I think it was on the greener side--a minor demon gave me a peck. The second was unbelievable. It felt like the Satan himself had not just kissed me thoroughly, but then had stuck his tongue down my throat. I swear blisters rose on my esophagus. I can't imagine that I would ever eat them again.
But I can't wait to try these on the boys at our next grilling...
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