Mean Jalapeno

I think Montezuma has forgotten about me, because the other night as I had a plate of delicious homemade nachos, some time during the night this little critter crawled into my dreams, or so I thought. He was ravenous....working his way down the esophagus then into my stomach and sometime yesterday, decided to hang around in my entrails!

Here I thought I was an outstanding Mexican...could handle anything hot. Even though my parents didn't partake in such heated experiences, my grandfather did. He'd even bring his own jalapenos to my mother's when they came over for dinner...since she and my father weren't much into it. When he and my grandmother traveled to Europe on the Queen Elizabeth, back in the 50's he took his hot sauce with him....a French chef apparently got his shorts in a tangle because the waiter reported him to this poo-poo, pinched faced cook! No problem...my grandfather just told him "no speekie Francee" and continued to enjoy his steak. They traveled everywhere and he took his capsicum along with him. When in Yugoslavia, yep it was still Yugoslavia back then, my grandparents and uncle, who was traveling with them, attached themselves (yikes, they sound like parasites) to the Mexican Ambassador to Yugoslavia's diplomatic attache and company. At a reception, Marshall Tito approached my grandfather and welcomed, "Senor Embajador" to Yugoslavia. Well, I'm sure you could hear a pin drop, but my grandfather had to explain that he wasn't the ambassador when the attache quickly took ol' Tito and introduced him to the real McCoy. My grandmother said the Mexican ambassador was this little short Mexican chap with a small waxed moustache...quite insignificant looking, well, according to my grandmother. Anyway, seems Tito liked my grandfather so they hung out for a bit while my grandparents waited for their next destination. My grandfather's the one to the left with the cigarette in his mouth, right is Marshall Tito of Yugoslavia.

So How did I get into this little sidetrack...well, my granddad was one hell of a guy. He passed away in 1972, just 6 months before I was wed. He was a wonderful guy and taught me how to enjoy mangoes, exotic fruits, chiles, Russell Stover candy,( the mint patti), chiclets and told wonderful stories from their days living in Revolutionary Mexico until he and grandmother came to this country. I'm ashamed that one little tiny jalapeno was the culprit in putting down this hu-eg hulk of a woman for 12 hours, and tonight, I will attempt it again, since he never gave up, I won't either...but could someone pass the Pepto!!!! Peace out.