Tear Gas Blackened Chicken

My buddy, Mr. Jonathan Auch, is staying with me. We’re both fans of food and we both love to cook. Tonight was no exception unless you were to say that is was exceptionally hot. Imagine trying to cook while somebody is blasting pepper spray and tear gas in the kitchen. We took a recipe for blackened chicken. We multiplied the spices by eight. It was fiery. It was smokey. It was good. The fumes that filled the kitchen as the thighs were blackening on the dry pan caused us to cough. Dry, hacking, wheezing coughs. The vaporized cayenne and black pepper caused the air to burn our lungs. If it had not been so dry our eyes might have watered. Not because we were crying, we do not cry, but simply because of the burning in our sinuses. We had to retreat to the dining room to gorge ourselves on the magnificent cheese platter of Glutinos, fig spread, Cambazola, blue cheese and garlic-herb goat cheese. The sweet Chardonnay did wonders as an antidote for the searing air. Our creation has been aptly dubbed Tear Gas Blackened Chicken, and it will kick your f#@%ing ass.

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Make no mistake. It was a damn battlefield. Lives were not lost, for they are too precious, but they were put on the line. For a great meal, we should do and expect nothing less. Tear Gas Chicken, you put up a good fight, and for that you have earned my eternal respect, but in the end, it was D/L & J/A ftw.

Cheers,

~D/L