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"In Szechuan frog, don't eat the chilli. They too spicy" is what the waitress told me. 10 hours later, the following morning, that was all I could think of as I was struggling to "evacuate".
You see, I'd done a long and busy on-call. a 12-hour shift of utter madness that goes exactly like this: Enter department at 09:00 AM, work work work until 09:00 PM, leave department dazed, confused, with aching legs and absolutely no idea what's up from down.
As a reward for running this gauntlet, I thought I'd find myself a nice Chinese restaurant and order a takeaway. I asked around and was told that Chinese food in Cambridge couldn't get any better than Peking Restaurant. I was warned it was a bit expensive, accepted only cash, but made some great food. It was also a simple 5-minute drive away. So far so henhao.
Sure enough, a simple 5-minute drive and there I was, parked right outside Peking Chinese Restaurant. I was greeted inside by the lady owner who was very keen to introduce me to her daughter after about 30 seconds. She gave me the menu and waited as patiently as the Chinese do while I tried to speed read/pick a meal.
I was feeling brave. Rather than my usual (trusty) Won Ton Soup, Crispy Chilli Beef order, I thought I'd go for something more... exotic. So, I ordered:
Hot and Sour Soup "my hot and sour soup is veeeerrryy good. See, my daughter eat it now"2 Meat Spring Rolls "my spring rolls are mmmmmmmm" (accompanied with an OK hand sign and a wink)Szechuan Frog With Cashew "you try frog before? ooooh so spicy and crispy is very nice"Steam Boiled Rice (this I didn't have a choice in. Lady Peking explained that the only thing you can have Szechuan Frog with is plain boiled rice)
Before you navigate away in disgust, I have to point out that I've had frog before and it is actually a very nice meat. The bones are a bit small and fiddly, but otherwise it tastes like a chicken/rabbit hybrid.
I also asked for a can of Coke with all this. I was told to have a seat and suddenly Lady Peking came to me with a can of Coke she'd poured in a glass, for me to drink while the food was cooked. "Never mind" I thought. A while later the waitress bought me the food and the bill. She then went on to tell me the understatement of the decade: "In Szechuan frog, don't eat the chilli. They too spicy". I couldn't quite understand why she'd issue such a warning. I'm sure I can pick one or two chilli pods out of the meal, no big deal.
I drove back to the temporary room I'd booked overnight, set my table up ready to indulge in this long-awaited feast. Naturally, I started with the soup (good), then the spring rolls (very very good), and then on to the jasmine-smelling steamed rice, and the very generous portion of Szechuan Frog, always mindful of the chilli I had to remove.
I started eating, and found that the dish was literally full of chilli. Big, red, narrow, angry chilli. Seeds and all. I'm talking about at least 30 full-size chilli pods. It was also full of big frog chunks, deliciously cooked with Cashew and a batter, but the overwhelming taste was that of immense heat.
Now, I'm partial for a bit of heat in food, and enjoy a curry or three. But this wasn't enjoyable spicy heat, this was a painful, burning, torture. For every mouthful, I'd taste a bit of meat/batter/cashew, and the rest of the mouth full was just fire. In a futile effort to try and enjoy this (remember, I had no drink - the Coke was consumed in the restaurant. Nor did I have any bread or yoghurt, the Indian-favourite way of quelling spicy heat) I started having one spoonful of frog with at least 3 spoonfuls of rice. This helped precisely nothing.
About a half way through I gave up. My mouth was a raging hole of fire, frog, and cashew. I was also very annoyed. I'd been looking forward to this takeaway since I first knew I was going to be working this shift, in other words for at least 3 months. I chucked the remainder in the bin, and walked to the local shop to buy an ice cream, both to cheer me up and to quell the fire. I went to sleep grumpy, exhausted, a bit hungry, and with a painful mouth.
Come morning time, I woke up and I'd almost forgotten the whole saga. A call of nature soon followed, and it's then that I was abruptly and rudely reminded of the whole ordeal. I was practically having to get up from the toilet seat and run a cold tap on my poor behind to cool things down. Seriously. They don't call it The Ring Of Fire for nothing.
For those agonising hours the only thing I could think of is the shy waitress,and her then-unusual remark. It all made sense now, she was trying her best to warn me of this oncoming violation of my alimentary tract:
"In Szechuan frog, don't eat the chilli. They too spicy"