My Zumba Session

Good morning dear readers.  Just for fun I thought I would trot out the first blog I ever wrote back on the 17th of January in 2011.  It is not particularly good...just thought I'd roll out a little nostalgia today.  Other than this intro, the blog is exactly as written on that first day that I decided to set out on the road to blogging. 



As I sit here this morning, cold glass of milk nearby, for medicinal sipping, I must tell you about my own experience with Zumba, the frenetic dance and exercise craze sweeping the nation.

You see I just came from a free chili and  heuvos ranchero tasting at my local Filbertos!  Since I'm a huge chili fan, and not adverse to getting something for nothing, I ran over to see what the local ads have been touting as the "hot new Mexican fast food restaurant" is all about.

Turns out the "new" restaurant is just an older fast food Mexican restaurant under "new ownership".  But the banners out front looked lively and there was a healthy crowd out front so I parked and went in.  Some pretty peppy Mariachi-like music was playing over the sound system and I was amazed to see young and old hopping about like those old dancing chickens exhibits they used to have at local fairs. 

I noticed two lines had formed, one for the heuvos rancheros and one for the chili.  I side-stepped a couple of the "dancers" and got in the chili line.  Management had provided little paper cups of chili and chips and it seemed like, with each tasting, the participating customer would begin a little Zumba dance and back away from the counter.  I also noticed a lot of sweaty brows but, hell, I just figured the dancing was getting to them.

Yeah, I did figure the chili was probably a little "spicy" too but I've never found a commercial chili that could take me down.  Taking my turn at the counter I noticed that my server kept glancing with concern toward the back serving window.  With little concern I scooped up a little plate of chips and my cup of chili and scooped up a generous heap of steaming chili.  Within seconds my eyes were trying desperately to leap out of my head and my tongue was on fire and damned if I didn't do a little Zumba move as I dealt with the most fiery chili I've ever eaten in my life!  I then looked at the server who kept making concerned glances back to the serving window.  I ask him what kind of chilies were in this recipe.  With this, the server turned and said something in Spanish through the kitchen window.

I understood only one word from the cook's response; "habanero".  The server turned and gave me a sheepish grin but said nothing. 

Folks, if you don't know your peppers, habaneros have a heat index about a thousand times hotter than a jalapeno. 

So here I sit, cold milk on hand, stomach still queasy, feeling a little more fit from my Zumba session, but resolved to forgo any chili tastings from exotic and exciting new fast food restaurants for the immediate future.