Spicy and precious are the moments we two can share...

I recently walked by a Chinese restaurant that listed, among the specials, two entrees: “Spicy Blast” and “Precious Pot.”

Had my husband been with me, here is the dialogue that would have followed:

Scene: Park Slope. Midday. Alice and Scott walk by a Chinese restaurant. Alice glances at the sign listing the specials and nudges Scott, who reads.

Him: I had some spicy blasts into our precious pot this morning. I think it must have been the Kung Pao from last night.

Me: Hey, every now and then I like a spicy blast into my precious pot, if you know what I’m saying.

They both snicker with glee.

Exeunt.

Comments

[jilbur]

Many, many years ago, my precious pot was semi-accidentally touched with authentic spicy blast by my then-boyfriend in the context of a meal of take-out we were eating in the bedroom.Exciting? you bet! Pleasurable? uh, not.Memorable? Apparently ...

[Kelly]

Aaah! I've had the spicy blast, but not the precious pot. I am the spicy blast. My poor precious pot.

You live in the Slope? My son was born there...I miss it so much sometimes. 13th St. just below the park, first floor garden apartment with ancient rose bushes fencing in the yard. I'd give my left nut for some Two Boots Pizza with Crayfish and a frosty boot of Blackened Voodoo Beer.