Datse

I’ve now been in two situations with my co-workers where I was physically so affected by chilies that they were concerned and either advised me to get a lot more rice or to cease eating.

We had been warned about the hotness of Bhutanese cuisine, how chilies aren’t just an added kick but the main ingredient of a dish. Datse – a Bhutanese hot curry made with chilies and cheese. Potato datse, mushroom datse, spinach datse, chili datse. For my own kitchen I had purchased big green chilies that I have been told aren’t hot, and they’re not. I can use them in dishes with seeds in and not even taste them.

At Bhutanese functions, this is not the case. If you see chilies, beware. After these two incidents – the first one at a temple function, the second time at a staff farewell party – I think I’ve finally learned my lesson. When I’m spooning up the food into my bowl of rice, it never seems that threatening – the vegetables in a creamy broth – but then as I start eating, the heat permeates until my whole head is sweating, my nose is running, and I must start to fidget or move uncomfortably because people can tell. At the staff party, there was even a local teacher who pushed her plate away, complaining of its hotness. I just keep thinking that the unbearable heat will subside but it doesn’t until you stop eating, and even then it still takes a while.

Recently at the market, I purchased chilies of a smaller variety – small, thin, and darker green. I cut up several and threw it in a stir-fry last night and it proved to be too strong, bearable but not necessarily enjoyable. So tonight, in a potato-mushroom datse, I took time to cut the seeds out of the chilies before using them. Just cutting them up caused some discomfort. I could feel it in my eyes, my whole body was feeling warmer as if physical heat was emanating from the chilies.