[Demimonde]

That reminds me of a family story from my youth.

We would take summer trips out to California to visit my aunt and uncle in Pasadena. Every year my uncle would go out of his way to find some kinda spicy salsa, hot sauce, or pepper that would be a match for my dad.

One year he had a jar of peppers that he had obtained from New Mexico. He was certain that THIS year would be the year and that he had found the Kryptonite of peppers. This jar was filled with the fiery peppers grown in the pits of Hell.

We were grilling out on the patio and he brought out the jar, filled with glee, and casually offered one to my dad. Who promptly ate one and complimented him on it, but didn't turn red or have fire coming out of his ears or anything. He was altogether mild about it and my uncle was very disappointed.

Shortly thereafter, my seven-year-old, bow-headed self skipped up to the table cuddling a stuffed animal and asked, "Daddy, can I have a pepper?"

"Sure sweetie."

My uncle turned white as a sheet and was about to protest, as I popped one in my mouth.

I said "yummy" and skipped off again.