Think you’re a spicy food champ?

Just an hour ago one of the guys in the office told me about an awesome Vietnamese sandwich place off of Milam called “Les Givral’s” and, having never tried any kind of Vietnamese food, I promptly decided to order out. I looked at their menu and got myself a char-grilled beef sandwich and let me tell you, it was wonderful and cost me but three measly dollars. I was positively devouring the sandwich when I experienced an all too familiar yet still-jarring feeling of ensuing, but unanticipated spiciness. I never readied myself for the possibility that there might be a giant, searingly-hot, pepper, lodged between the meat and carrot shreds just lying in wait, to light my mouth, eyes, throat, and face on fire. With eyes streaming, I scampered all over the free press office looking for a cup since the root beer I was drinking only acted like high octane gasoline to my burning palette. All I could find was an empty water bottle which I proceeded to fill, while also spilling said water all over the floor as my hands shook violently. After drinking about two liters of water, this way, I resigned to the possibility that there was nothing else I could do but wait for the flames in mouth to evanesce on their own. It didn’t ruin the excellent sandwich but it did knock me on my ass for a while. Before this sandwich I thought that I was the champion of spicy food but in just a few bites I was humbled. I highly recommend Les Givral’s for cheap and tasty eats.