A Declaration of Spicy Food

Children, hear me out.

I have, for a large number of years, caved when it comes to cuisine.  I have catered to your every whim, to your phase of eating just Ramen noodles with peas, to the year of the processed cheese, to those disgusting mini meat sticks you devoured as toddlers.  I have eaten French fries at more than one meal a day and subsisted entirely off of chicken nuggets and grapes for weeks at a time.

I’ve taken the peppers out of our foods, eaten many a recipe without any sort of cheese topping thanks to your little sister’s inconvenient dairy allergy.  For those of you who don’t care for tomatoes, I have gone without mixing them in to foods that generally are tomato based.

And onions?  I’m not even going there until you can tell me how on this green Earth you can love an onion ring but heaven forbid I dice one into the soup and you actually have to look at it and eat it.

But listen up, kids, and listen good.  If I eat one more bland, tasteless, textureless, cheeseless meal, I might not stick around enough to cut up your hot dogs.  I need taste.  I crave flavor.  Bring me the spices that burn my nasal passages and enough acid to have me groaning after our meal.  For Pete’s sake, I’ll even gladly take gas forming foods because deep down, I know the bloating and the pains and the quiet retreats to the restroom will be worth it.

Noodles be damned.  Cereal, may you rest in peace.  All foods white, beige, brown and/or frozen, it was nice knowing you, but your time has unfortunately come.

And kids, prepare yourself for food that isn’t flavorless, and doesn’t require your father to douse it in Tabasco sauce or your mother to pour on a tablespoon of salt.  There might be capers involved, I’ll warn you, and if I’m feeling crazy I’m going to use things like actual spices and exotic ingredients like spinach and mustard.

Because this is the dawn of a new era, a time of bursting taste buds and most certainly a time of whining children who may actually have to break down their tiny little bland barriers and encounter a new universe of cookery.

In the meantime, children, you may find your parents smiling more than usual, saying things like “mmmm, delightful!” and “wow, what a pleasant zing!” and washing away the groans and complaints with a nice, extremely flavorful bottle of wine.  And if you are smart, oh pee wees from the great land of toast and white rice, you’ll learn that an adventurous taste or two might even earn you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

If you make it yourself.