What Not To Do When Making Pico De Gallo

*Due to the graphic nature of this post, parental guidance, a blog post filter, or a sense of humor is strongly recommended.

So, I will preface this story by saying that my 78-year old next-door neighbor laughed so hard when I told it to her that I stayed at her house an extra ten minutes to make sure she didn't have a heart attack. I'm not kidding.

My next-door neighbor, Mrs. Gonzales (or Mrs. G. as she's known in the neighborhood) is of Mexican descent, and is always making authentic culinary delights for me and Adam, much to our extreme pleasure. She has also taught me how to cook some Mexican dishes, so I can now swing cheese enchiladas, flour tortillas, salsa and pico de gallo.

In case you don't know, pico de gallo is essentially what Americans call salsa-- very small bits of tomato, onion, jalapeno peppers, cilantro and lime juice mixed together and eaten with chips. True salsa is actually cooked tomatoes, garlic, and jalapeno peppers blended together into a runny sauce, and also eaten with chips. I like them both, but pico de gallo is faster to make.

Anyway, after a few times making pico de gallo with Mrs. G., I decided to use a bunch of the tomatoes from my vegetable garden to make my own for a dinner party. It took me about 1 1/2 hours to mince all those tomatoes, onions and jalapenos down to the perfect size for the dip. Sometime during all the chopping and mincing, I decided to take a bathroom break. Well, seeing as my monthly visitor was also in town, I took care of her luggage. I then finished up, washed my hands, and went back to dicing.

About five minutes later, the inside of my "lady tract" started burning to high hell. At first, I thought I was experiencing some "technical difficulties" due to my monthly visitor; but seeing as it came on suddenly, I started thinking back to the previous 10 minutes, and what I could have done to have caused the burn.

...the jalapenos. I didn't wash my hands before going to the bathroom, so when I took care of my visitor, I infected her accomodations with jalapeno juice. I don't know how to express how NOT fun that was. I vaguely remember calling to Adam to tell him that my "insides were on fire." He had only a little sympathy and then said I should have washed my hands. Gee, thanks. Guess I'll remember that sage advice next time!

Mrs. Gonzales said she started laughing at work the next day just thinking about me dancing around my kitchen in jalapeno hell. When her coworkers asked her what was so funny, she didn't have the heart to divulge my pathetic little story. So I'm doing it now. Have fun with it. But wash your hands first.