Too hot

I had ordered green curry at several places in the past year or so, and had enjoyed the hot bite mixed with Thai basil and coconut milk. I was not prepared for the Limeridge Mall Thai Express's version of green curry: the woman at the cash register warned me it was hot when I placed my order, but I was naive. The first bite made me choke, and I almost spit my food out on the table! Note to self, in future when the staff person says, "It's hot," take her word for it. Luckily for me, we had ordered a bowl of TomYum soup too, which came with enough noodles to re-roof my garage (I really couldn't think of a better metaphor there; I have over-eater's brain right now). My D. was eating a large portion of veggie pad thai, and looking at the gigantic bowl of soup, so he said I could eat that if my meal was too hot.
I really hate to waste food, so I choked down some of my Green Curry chicken and a few vegetables, but the rice was soaked in the sauce. I warned my D. about the heat, but I guess he didn't really believe me; after listening to me complain with every bite, he grabbed some saucy rice, the worst part for heat, and ate it; he couldn't speak and almost spit it out. "My nose is running, my eyes are watering, I feel hot all over, and I only had one bite; how are you eating that?" "I don't know," I choked, blowing some air past him. "Oh, please don't breathe at me like that, the air is even stinging my eyes!" he winced.
After a few more bites, I gave up and launched into the noodle soup. The broth made the hot spices in my mouth spread around even more, so I had another jolt of that heat before it finally started to get washed away into my stomach. I recommend the TomYum soup, for veggies and value for your money, but so many noodles that I think we could have shared the one serving and been satisfied. But, watch out for the green curry at that particular Thai Express.

After lunch, my D. usually likes a sweet treat, and we were dangerously close to a Cinnabon. Thanks to the escalators, it was a relatively short trip from the food court, so we made the detour to get him his sweet-fix. And, oh my gosh they now serve cupcakes: they're beautiful and the flavours are fun too, including cinnamon and carrot cake. I bought a cinnamon cupcake to take home for later. The reason I'm describing this is because I wanted to write about my D.'s enjoyment of his Cinnabon on the way home in the car. I have never seen or heard another human enjoy eating something that much before in my life. "Is the smacking sound during each chew absolutely necessary?" I asked, after listening to it for a few moments. He was almost non-verbal with sugary ecstasy: "oommm, yeah." "Okay, just so I know," I said. A few oohs and ahs and sighs later, an "Ouch" escaped his lips. "What was that?" I asked. "It's still hot in the middle," he gurgled through sticky-coated lips that were descending toward the box in search of more goodness. But he sure wasn't complaining about the hotness, fresh out of the oven, just sublime, I could tell by the noises he was making. He swiped out the icing from the bottom of the box with his fingers after the last crumbs of dough were gone, and said, "Ooogh, darn." "What?" I thought maybe he had spilled some on the car seat or something. "It's all gone." He sounded so sad. I told him that I enjoyed listening to him eat it with such gusto. I never thought dessert could make me laugh so much; that Cinnabon nosh was immensely entertaining.