This spring my friend Daryl gave me some seeds from a pepper that wraps in tinfoil. Here he had been in a restaurant for lunch, and at dinner the cook honored him, especially with peppers. The peppers were imported from Italy, and they gave Chef Daryl the pepper himself (wrapped in tinfoil). Well, Daryl knows I like things to grow and is very excited at the prospect of being able to end up with delicious grape peppers. I sprouted seeds on the windowsill, transplanted them into the garden, and delighted myself in their growth. They were big and green and bushy when I had a Japanese beetle infestation, so I lost several plants. Fortunately, I had grown some plants in containers on the porch pergola and did not lose all the pepper plants in the garden, one disaster averted. I watered them, talked to them, and put bugs on their leaves. At the end of the season I had a nice number of interesting looking, long, multi-colored (some green, some yellow, some orange) peppers to harvest.
The next step was to figure out exactly how to save them. I wanted to make an Italian style preserve in what I assumed would be just olive oil, but every recipe I found was more for preserves. I had all kinds of friends friends and relatives for receiving preserving peppers. Finally, one of the many modified recipes. Then I looked at our “harvest” and began to feel uneasy. But if he doesn’t get it right, I don’t have the pepper to give Daryl. Daryl knows I like to garden and he knows I love to cook. I didn’t want to disappoint him, and I certainly didn’t want to be knocked off my garden goddess base. What did I do?
Continuing to fret, I gathered all the ingredients on the counter, picked out pots for packing, pots and pans from the closet; then I started getting really nervous, I actually had a mild panic attack. So I went and ordered into the cellar and drank a couple of beers to calm my nerves. I looked at the pepper plants lined up in front of the windows. I re-ordered all the pepper stuff on the counter, because they were in the wrong order. I called my friend Suzanne, who came back with me and gave me a pep talk. After hanging up the phone I circled a few times and then looked at the clock and decided it was getting late. I went to bed.
After a long night of tossing and turning and dreaming of all the horrible things that could go wrong, I got up at the crack of dawn, picked up a bunch of pepper, washed it in the sink, and placed all my things on the counter. I decided to make a cup of tea. After finishing the morning chores and rolling the counter, I shouted several times, “@#*8=!!, ‘Just damn pepper!'” I made a small batch and put them in Daryl’s fridge when he wasn’t looking. Then I went out for some cocktails and took the whole experience to heart. I guess if they didn’t like Daryl I’d try something else, and if they did like it, then it might as well not be all the trouble.
Guess what – he loved it, really, really loved it. Daryl that they were good and looked more. He also raved about “these” Hot Peppers to many friends. Needless to say, the recipe is now in my “secret” DarylReceive.
I have saved a few seeds and am looking forward to next year’s crop. I was also very happy and relieved that I had not been taken down by the goddess’ desired potion.
