I guess I should have noted that my brother is one year older (now 64) and my sister is two years younger (now 61). My Dad (died in 1987 at the age of 66) 
was born in Ft. Smith, AR, and had a knack for cooking, himself. His cooking when he was in the Navy in World War II was pretty much regulated by the rules, but when he cooked for us he prepared a wide variety of foods. He himself liked “hot mix”–vegetables in a spicy clear sauce, in a jar.* (His *father was from New Orleans and likely preferred Cajun cooking.) And I confess I had some taste for spicy stuff, even then–as a kid I sometimes ate sardines with mustard–and I like pineapple salsa on scrambled eggs and Tabasco (in drops) on ham or sausage, and pepperjack cheese. My Mom doesn’t make jalapeño chili any more.
You are going to need to justify this with a cite :- capsaicin activates a pain receptor directly, and while irritation can occur on sensitive surfaces (eyeballs, etc), generally no actual tissue damage will occur (unless an allergic reaction occurs).
Si
In my experience, tolerance to hot food develops pretty quickly.
Back when I lived in Colorado, we used to always have roasted New Mexico green chiles in the freezer. We’d buy a bushel or two in the fall when they roasted them, parcel 'em up into packages, and eat them all year.
We would make big batches of Green Chile Stew and keep it in the fridge for up to a week. We’d slather it on everything - burritos, eggs, eat it in a bowl, etc. I love that stuff.
Inevitably, though, we’d come to a point where we’d go a month or so without making some. Then we’d make a batch, and the first taste was ALWAYS “OMG it’s SO FREAKIN’ HOT! These pepper must be different! We can’t eat this stuff!”
But because Green Chile Stew is one of the most addictive substances in the world, we’d keep eating it. A day or two in, it’d be just normally hot, and by the end of the batch it’d be nothing to slather a ton of it over everything we ate.
Man, now I’m hungry. Do you remember the recipe?
Yes, I concur.
To describe this culinary gem without an accompanying recipe is cruel.
Oh sure. Not really a recipe, I just do it by feel. Here’s the general idea:
About 4 cups diced/skinned/roasted green chiles
1.5 pounds or so of pork shoulder, diced.
a big white onion, diced
garlic, minced. Anywhere from 4-8 cloves or more, depending on how much you like garlic
a can of diced tomatoes
vegetable oil
water and/or chicken stock
salt
In a big pot, heat a tablespoon or so of oil, add the pork. Saute until browned on all sides, then add the onion. Saute until soft, add the garlic, saute for 30 seconds or so.
Throw in the green chiles and the can of tomatoes. Pour water or stock over until it covers the chile/pork/tomato mix about 3/4 of the way. Throw some salt in.
Cover, and let cook for an hour or two. Give it a stir every once in a while. Add salt as needed. If it gets too thick, add more water or stock.
That’s about it. If you’re planning on eating bowls of it, it’s sometimes nice to add potatoes, but I usually don’t. I ladle it over burritos, or in a bowl with flour tortillas, or on eggs, or in tacos. It’s sorta halfway between a chile and a sauce, so works as both.
Yum yum. I wish I could get roasted chiles easily/cheaply like I used to…
Edit: the recipe is really super flexible. I just read it over and realized that sometimes I added another can of tomatoes, or more pork, or whatever. You can throw anything in it. The real base is the pork for that meaty, umami flavor, and the chiles. Honestly, beyond those two things, everything else is window dressing.
It depends on how potent the capasicin is and an individuals sensitivity to it. Your mention of “no actual tissue damage” suggests that you don’t consider the burning sensation of capsaicin applied to the skin to be a true chemical burn. I suppose you’re correct on that fine point but handling high concentrations of capsaicin with your bare hands will make you “feel” like your hands are on fire. If there is a better term to describe the effect, I’ll be more than happy to use it in the future.
The chemical compound capsaicin (8-methyl-N-vanillyl-6-nonenamide) is the active component of chili peppers, which are plants belonging to the genus Capsicum. It is an irritant for mammals, including humans, and produces a sensation of burning in any tissue it comes in contact with.
Medical
Capsaicin is currently used in topical ointments to relieve the pain of peripheral neuropathy such as post-herpetic neuralgia caused by shingles. It may be used in concentrations of between 0.025% and 0.075%.It may also be used as a cream for the temporary relief of minor aches and pains of muscles and joints associated with arthritis, simple backache, strains and sprains. The treatment typically involves the application of a topical anesthetic until the area is numb. Then the capsaicin is applied by a therapist wearing rubber gloves and a face mask. The capsaicin remains on the skin until the patient starts to feel the “heat”, at which point it is promptly removed. Capsaicin is also available in large adhesive bandages that can be applied to the back.The result appears to be that the nerves are overwhelmed from the burning sensation and are unable to report pain for an extended period of time. With chronic exposure to capsaicin, neurons are depleted of neurotransmitters and it leads to reduction in sensation of pain and blockade of neurogenic inflammation. If capsaicin is removed, the neurons recover.
However, most types of peppers contain a chemical known as capsaicin, which is a very strong mucus membrane and skin irritant. Hence, you could sustain capsaicin burns on your hands, by handling certain types of hot peppers like jalapenos, chili peppers and even capsicums, with your bare hands. When you touch or chop peppers with your bare hands, the different molecules that are present in capsaicin come into contact with the neuro-sensors in your body. These sensors detect the abrasion and the heat, leading to a burning sensation that is very strong. Unfortunately, pepper burns on hands are quite serious, as they could cause redness, burning and immense pain. Moreover, if left untreated, the burns caused by hot peppers on the hands could last for hours, making it nearly impossible for you to go about your daily duties or even sleep.
*Burn remedies
The effects of hot pepper burns can range from mild stinging to a severely painful and debilitating burning sensation. Unfortunately, the best cure in this case is prevention. Always wear rubber gloves (not latex, because the capsaicin in the peppers seeps through latex) when you cut or otherwise handle chili peppers.
Once you’ve burnt yourself, there’s not much you can do except periodically ease the pain and wait it out. Hot pepper burns can sometimes last for days.
The first course of action when you notice a burning sensation after handling peppers is to get the capsaicin off your skin.*
I wish I could remember the title of the book I read several years ago. It argued that there were many different heritable food tolerances around the world. The most well-known, according to the author, were a tolerance for dairy (due to the continued manufacture of a certain lactose-processing enzyme into adulthood), and an enhanced ability to process alcohol.
But he also argued that certain populations developed a tolerance for spicy food; I think he suggested that this occurred primarily in regions in which there were common, life-threatening parasites against whose invasion certain spices acted as prophylactics.
I make no claims as to the rigor of the work, since I can’t even remember its title, but the theory certainly pertains to the conversation :).
I’ve found that it’s difficult to judge the “heat” of some individual peppers. Some jalapenos are hotter than some habeneros. I save the seeds and the white part of the ribs in a seperate bowl and add them later if the chili or sauce needs more heat. You can always raise the heat level but it’s difficult to lower it.
Thanks, Athena. After reading your initial discription, I was curious to see if you used some type of meat. I’ve made chili verde a few times, but tend to use tomatillos as the base.
I’m looking forward to trying your recipe.
For what it’s worth, I’ve tried the recipe here and it’s pretty good.
It probably sounds like a nitpick, but any sort of actual “burn” implies tissue damage. Sulfuric acid, mustard gas, lye, etc. will give you a proper chemical burn, whereas capsaicin, even in it’s pure form, won’t actually damage tissue. It just causes a burning sensation.
Yeah, if it were an actual chemical burn, it’d affect birds, too. But birds have no reaction whatsoever to capsaicin, even in nearly pure form. This is in fact the purpose of the substance: The plants want their fruit eaten by birds, which will scatter the seeds far and wide, not wasted on mammals.
I’m sure you’re right, but I prefer to flog my taste buds with capasicin until they come around. It’s worth it.
Very similar to mine, though I’d always go for chunks of pork shoulder over ground pork. I like the texture better.
I enjoy picking nits myself. I noticed that the medical remedies refer to a burning “sensation”. I know that my fingers aren’t actually burning but they sure have felt like they were. What do they call something that feels like a chemical burn but isn’t an actual chemical burn? The “YES, YES, I stole the Lindbergh baby” effect?
I always knew birds were insensitive bass turds, especially when they begin singing at sun up when I’m trying to sleep late.
The fact that cops everywhere* carry pepper spray should tell you right there that it doesn’t cause chemical burns.
*Except East L.A., where pepper spray is usually milder than the neighborhood taqueria’s salsa brava.
We call it a “burning sensation”. Yes, really. Sometimes there just isn’t one word for a thing.
Therapeutically, like when we put it in a cream and put the cream on a sore shoulder, we describe it as a “counterirritant”.
I tried some of those adhesive capsaicin pads on the recommendation of my pastor, and was disappointed to discover that I could feel absolutely nothing from them. OTOH, I feel the heat just fine when eating peppers.
Speaking of birds being “immune” to capsaicin, what about cats? Some years ago I was sitting in my recliner, watching TV, and eating a burrito smothered in some hot salsa. Hot enough to make me sweat profusely. When I finished, I set the plate on the floor, intending to take it to the kitchen during the next commercial break. Here came my cat, sniffing at the plate. “This should be amusing,” I thought to myself. My cat proceeded to lick the plate clean, without batting an eye.
I make my own - just dump a spoonful of cayenne into some olive oil. If your cayenne is finely powdered, you can use it like that; if it’s coarse, let it steep overnight and then filter it through a coffee filter or several layers of cheesecloth. Make it as weak or strong as you like…just wash your hands when you’re done, and don’t touch your eyes.
I suppose you could also use it for cooking, couldn’t you? Huh.
These recipes are somewhat different from my Mom’s. She used diced hamburger, chili beans, onions, stewed tomatoes, chili powder, water, seasonings and, of course, the jalapeño, plus other ingredients I don’t remember. She cooked it in a large cast-iron pot, yielding enough for five people (six when my little brother was old enough to eat solid food). In any case, the chili didn’t faze anyone in the family but me.