[CH] So. Cal. Hotluck
Gregg Puckett (gpuckett@exo.com)
Sat, 10 Jan 1998 21:12:02 -0800
I've just returned from the Southern California ChileHeads Hotluck (my
first Hotluck). I'd like to describe each entrée in great detail and
attempt, in mere words, to pass along the subtle interplay of delicate
flavors and not-so-subtle levels of chile-fired heat.
But I can't. All I can think about is THE BREAD.
Like many of you, I've been reading about this concoction from Indiana, but
until now it was just a distant, intellectual experience on the internet. I
was unprepared for the actual experience; nobody is prepared for it. No
matter where on this planet you've eaten, no matter what fiery substances
you've tasted, you CANNOT be prepared to experience the slow, deep,
relentless burn of The Bread.
The Bread inspires respect, even awe; it grabs hold and it will not quit.
Once you've eaten your portion – tiny bite or moderate mouthful – you
quickly realize that you're in for the duration, that you have no choice
but to ride this wave 'til it dumps you, face first and breathless, on the
beach.
Oh go ahead, smear it with sour cream, drink a gallon of whatever, try a
mouth full of sugar, salt, gasoline…it's all too little, too late. And yet
it is, as all good Chile Heads say, a "good" burn. And when at last it
begins to loosen its grip on your attention and let your lips, tongue,
mouth, and throat start to return to this world, you'll also notice that
you kind of, well,…miss it. It hurt yet it felt good, and the taste, hiding
in there behind the pain, was incredible. Go ahead, have another bite – I
did.
This being my first Hotluck, I brought my camera, intending to document all
the camaraderie and good eats. I got a picture of The Bread, and there the
photographic record ends. This fact is trying to tell me something, I just
don't know what…
I'm notoriously bad with names, so I won't pretend to list all the
attendees, and I apologize to anyone who is bothered by the lack of mention
(it doesn't mean your presence wasn't appreciated, it just means that I
SUCK with names). I certainly want to thank Dave and Helen, who hosted the
event, for allowing us all to set pots of flaming hot stuff on their dining
room table, which surface will undoubtedly be permanently etched by some of
the fiery concoctions dripped on it this afternoon. And for the great view
and all the brew, too! Curt and Susie, Tadao (probably misspelled), and all
the others whose names, if I even knew them, have since been wiped out by
the effects of The Bread on My Brain: thanks for the goodies and the chance
to hang around.
If you ever hear that there's going to be a Chile Heads Hotluck within
driving distance of you, find a way to get there - you'll find great food
and new friends and if you're lucky, you'll find The Bread.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
----------
"You don't stop laughing because you get old; you get old because you stop
laughing"