A Word Fitly Spoken: Now That Was A Surprise

Most of my life I've been a DIY kind of girl. Sometimes that turns out to be a fine thing, sometimes, not so much. For instance, I am notorious for being a picky eater. You might think everybody loves Chinese food, but then again, you might be wrong. I do like the flavors of a few Chinese dishes, but usually don't like the dish as a whole. I've made several attempts to find a Chinese restaurant that could appease my taste buds, but alas, it appeared my only recourse was to DIM-do it myself.

It didn't take too long to find the ingredients I was looking for, but I really didn't know if they actually were the ingredients I was looking for. I don't do a lot of cooking, so this was really taking a leap in the dark for me.

Wha-la! My creation of white rice, chicken and General Tso Stir-Fry Sauce was yummy! With the first bite, I was celebrating my culinary success. By the third bite, my taste buds were so happy I barely noticed the distress my tongue was beginning to experience. Plus, while I prefer to avoid spicy foods, I'm not a total wimp, so I continued to gobble up my generous-sized serving.

That was a mistake. By the time I finished, I was convinced there must have been steam blasting out through my ears! My mouth felt like I had just gorged on live coals, and there was something in my chest that felt like a ball of fire. I'm glad no one was around to see, for I had to resort to sucking in cool air and downing a cold soda. Eventually, the ball of fire moved to my stomach, and has now subsided to a warm glow.

Three times I went back to check that packet of sauce for the warning label the government requires for hazardous substances. Three times I found nothing. So, in an effort to maintain my standing as a good citizen, I've gone ahead and composed one for them:

Caution!

Partaking of this food additive will

subject you to heat that is equivalent to an