Zoom in on the Aussie lasses kitchen, early evening.
Guacamole is being prepared. The onions have been chopped, garlic crushed, tomato deseeded, salt and pepper shaken, avocado peeled - all that remains is the chilli.
On the weekend, a relatively inconspicuous chilli had been purchased for this very same purpose, but the flavour was relatively inconspicuous as well, and the Frenchman had been sent out to hunt down something with a little more kick.
The new chilli lay on the bench, and looking a little more interesting than the last, it sported a name that included "antillaise" in the title.
10 years ago, my own tastebuds refused to handle chilli of any sort, but working in a Mexican restaurant during my student years vastly helped improve my appreciation of this little gastronomic delight. The Frenchmans tastebuds have slowly acclimatised to the amount of chilli I put in food, and he can often be heard mentioning, "this could have more chilli in it".
In order to work out the proportions required for the guacamole, it was decided that the Aussie Lass should test the chilli before any further moves were made. A tiny sliver was cut, and she hesitantly placed it in her mouth.
One second, two seconds, five seconds - she moved it experimentally across her tongue to see if her taste buds could pick up anything interesting - to no avail. "It's very delicate", she remarked, and proceeded to chop off a chunk of the chilli and popped it into her mouth.
The scene that followed had to be cut due to the vast number of expletives.
Suffice to say that a litre of milk was downed, followed a litre of water, as her entire mouth burned, and much snot poured out of the Aussie Lasses nose and tears streamed from her eyes.
The Frenchman also shed a few tears - of laughter.
It was so strong that my freaking teeth hurt. It fully took half an hour for my mouth to stop burning - and thankfully my stomach seems to be able to digest it.