One of the things I grew in my garden is called an “Indian Ghost Pepper”.   Up until 2015 it was THE spiciest pepper in the world — losing to the Carolina Reaper.   In India, it’s used as elephant repellent, and it’s very effective.  To give an idea of it’s spiciness, a habanero pepper, the third hottest, I think, is 200-300,000 scovilles (heat units.)   A ghost pepper can be anywhere from 1,000,000 to 2,300,000.   It’s very, very hot.  It’s the only thing I’ve seen that made both, my father, and my friend Ilya make a pain face.  Ever. In my life.  And I didn’t make them eat one, I dipped a knife in this thing I make from it, which I call “peppah watah”, which is a much milder, hawaiian-recipe-based solution.  And I made them lick the knife after whicking the residue off.  And that’s still too much.  In most recipes, if I’m not cooking the peppah watah out, I used no more than 2-3 drops per cup of water or lb of meat.

It’s very, very, spicey.

 

Today, I made my second batch of ghost peppah watah.

 

Then I stood over the area that I diced the ghost pepper.

Lungs, instantly burning.  All I was doing was standing over the area to chop an onion.

 

Decided to switch pants.

 

And I’ll be honest, cause I’m a h00mon.  In the process I elected to readjust my dick.

I used the hand that held the ghost pepper in place.

 

Instant regret.

Instant, regret.

 

#StillBurning.