I am Sunflower Market's customer of the day. Why? Because I'm awesome.
While I was at Sunflower today to pick up some things to make lasagna (which will be discussed later), the produce guy (who will from here on be mentioned as "Justin", as was signified on his nametag) jokingly said to me "How would you like to sample one of our fine peppers today?" as he motioned toward the serranos, jalepenos, and habaneros. Thinking he was serious, I said "Sure, why not?" He looked at me for a moment and said, "I was just kidding. How about a kiwi instead? That's probably more appetizing. Besides, these are probably too hot for you." WRONG words to say to me, the queen of the overly competetive. Feeling the desire to show this ignorant Utah boy just how much heat an Albuquerque girl can take, I said, "Actually, I think I might go for the pepper."
He stared at me, quite taken aback. "Are you serious?" he asked me. Hah!
He proceeded to hand me a serrano, which I took no hesitation in biting into. "Is it hot?" he asked timidly. "Not at all," I said. And truthfully, it wasn't. "Okay, how about a habanero?" He held it out to me. I took it and bit in. Not too hot. Then he said, "Did you get any seeds in there?" I hadn't. So I took another bite, making sure to get some seeds. At which point, my mouth turned into a raging inferno. I didn't mind though. It was a welcome change after all of the sissy food these Utahns call "spicy". My eyes teared a little bit, but that's to be expected. After all, this was a habanero!
Justin the produce guy was quite impressed. "What is your name, crazy pepper lady?" he asked. So I told him. Later, when I was at the register, he went up to the cashier and made sure she knew I was the customer of the day. Go me!
Switching gears. As a chef-in-the-making, I have the frequent experience of spending hours on a masterpiece that is demolished in about 30 seconds. Yesterday, I made a beautiful, perfectly round, mouthwateringly tender loaf of sourdough bread topped with deliciously sweet diced onions. It was not a small loaf of bread. It was about a foot in diameter. It was 3/4 of the way gone within 15 minutes. It took me four hours to make. Granted, a lot of that was "waiting for the dough to rise" time, but still! At least I know my hard work was thouroughly enjoyed.
Lasanga. An Italian classic, and a tired American standby. I am deeply saddened by the number of people who equate the concept of lasagna with Stouffer's. Why on Earth would anyone eat that? It's not the way lasagna was intended to be I tell you! Anyway, I digress. I wanted to make lasagna. But not the tire, bolognese and cheese lasagna. This was to be a special dish that would use simple, clean flavors and be ultimately much lighter than it's meat and cheese laden counterpart. My lasagna features layers of sun-dried tomato pesto, ricotta cheese, pancetta, tender pieces of asparagus, all topped off with a healthy layer of shredded whole milk mozerella. Molto bene!
