Hades in a Bag
Coming in at 170 calories per serving, and 99 cents per medium sized bag, "Flamin' Hot" Cheetos (Crunchy) is one of the most addictive things to the average Latina. (I can kidd because I'm one of them.)
These things are so freakishly delicious! After get over the fact that you're practically burning your tongue off with every bite, of course. Flamin' Hot Cheetos lovers everywhere know what I'm talking about. There's a certain sweet aftertaste that comes after the first initial burning. It's especially detectable when licking off the excess Cheeto fuzz off your fingers.
And there's certain rules about FHC. Like, there are certain areas on your tongue you need to place them if you don't want to burn off the important tastesbuds.* (Like, all of them...!) Also, never give a first time FHC eater the smallest Cheeto [unless you're mean...:)] because it's the one packed with the most seasoning. Try and give them a bigger, lighter red one. And water doesn't work. Milk and chocolate work better. Don't even think about soda, it just makes things worse. Especially warm Barqs rootbeer... But that's another story. Oh yeah, and after riddiculous amounts of consumption, these babies will burn just as bad coming out as they did going in. Trust me on that one. Not a pleasant experience.**
Because of the undeniable fact that my family has hispanic/latin (yes, there's a difference) my grandma enjoys these things just as much as I do, if not more. She's one of those people who could eat those trippy Guatemalan chilis (as shown on the Simpsons) and still make a batch of tortillas within the hour.
Sadly, my mother does not share the caliente gene that was bestowed upon me and my grandmother. I guess it just skipped a generation. So the first time my mother tried a FHC, it was an audible experience for everyone. I swear, her scream rang true throughout the entire cul-de-sac. My sister and I were both waken from the stupor called Saturday morning cartoons and ran into the kitchen to see what had killed our beloved mom. The perpetrator lay on the counter, and mother was gulping down as much water as she could possibly swallow. Long story short, she hasnt tried them since, although we've offered them to her many a time following this event.
My advice to you, the FHC virgins: try them at least once. You either like 'em, or hate 'em. Either that, or you eventually like them because if you don't, you're not cool, like your cool friends. Or should I say hot?
*Unfortunately, I haven't aquired this ability. But after a couple more years of experience, I might be able to.
**It seemed so worth it at the time... That was before the cramping started... ugh.
These things are so freakishly delicious! After get over the fact that you're practically burning your tongue off with every bite, of course. Flamin' Hot Cheetos lovers everywhere know what I'm talking about. There's a certain sweet aftertaste that comes after the first initial burning. It's especially detectable when licking off the excess Cheeto fuzz off your fingers.
And there's certain rules about FHC. Like, there are certain areas on your tongue you need to place them if you don't want to burn off the important tastesbuds.* (Like, all of them...!) Also, never give a first time FHC eater the smallest Cheeto [unless you're mean...:)] because it's the one packed with the most seasoning. Try and give them a bigger, lighter red one. And water doesn't work. Milk and chocolate work better. Don't even think about soda, it just makes things worse. Especially warm Barqs rootbeer... But that's another story. Oh yeah, and after riddiculous amounts of consumption, these babies will burn just as bad coming out as they did going in. Trust me on that one. Not a pleasant experience.**
Because of the undeniable fact that my family has hispanic/latin (yes, there's a difference) my grandma enjoys these things just as much as I do, if not more. She's one of those people who could eat those trippy Guatemalan chilis (as shown on the Simpsons) and still make a batch of tortillas within the hour.
Sadly, my mother does not share the caliente gene that was bestowed upon me and my grandmother. I guess it just skipped a generation. So the first time my mother tried a FHC, it was an audible experience for everyone. I swear, her scream rang true throughout the entire cul-de-sac. My sister and I were both waken from the stupor called Saturday morning cartoons and ran into the kitchen to see what had killed our beloved mom. The perpetrator lay on the counter, and mother was gulping down as much water as she could possibly swallow. Long story short, she hasnt tried them since, although we've offered them to her many a time following this event.
My advice to you, the FHC virgins: try them at least once. You either like 'em, or hate 'em. Either that, or you eventually like them because if you don't, you're not cool, like your cool friends. Or should I say hot?
*Unfortunately, I haven't aquired this ability. But after a couple more years of experience, I might be able to.
**It seemed so worth it at the time... That was before the cramping started... ugh.
posted by Amy at 10:39 PM
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