Middle-class white Americans, take note: Spice warnings on the menu are there for a reason.

I had an early night after church - everyone loves Irish pubs for some reason, so that's where the group went. (Beef stew with a mashed-potato hat is NOT worth $10, unless it's Kobe beef.) Everything in my house is frozen, so it was an excuse for takeout. Haven't been to the great little Thai place in my neighborhood for a while, but I had a carb-heavy lunch, so I decided against noodles. Yes, everything that doesn't have noodles comes with rice, but whatever. Usually I go with green curry, but tonight I noticed a variant on the menu: Emerald green. Seattle is the Emerald City. Is that a sign? This one comes with green veggies (turned out to be peapods) instead of red bell pepper, but it also carries (drum roll) two pepper signs next to the entry. The green curry carries one.

A word now: The Seattle area is the only place I've had Thai (out of probably half a dozen on the two coasts) where customers are asked, right after ordering, "how spicy?" A star system indicates spice - 1 on the mild end, 5 on the braggarts' end. I've never gone higher than a 3, and regretted the 3. Even 2 can be quite a bit, especially when you're ordering a curry dish that comes with spice apart from what the chef does, depending on your star choice. Every other area I've tried Thai, the menu tells you or you have to ask to have the normal spiciness altered.

So I'm not about to quibble with the menu - the emerald curry is hotter than the normal green. That's the point.

In anticipation of the spiciness, I pulled out my last Dogfish Head Double Dog Pale Ale, because hoppy beers are said to cut through spicy dishes very nicely. I poured a big glass of cold water and grabbed a paper towel, anticipating a bit of the "Along Came Polly"-type dining experience.

I was Ben Stiller for two hours, with an hour break between. The hoppy beer did nothing. The last dish I had near that level of Spice Hell was when S made shrimp curry, and decided that the water from the frozen shrimp, thawing in the pan, would be enough to mix with the curry packet, without adding any other water. Fine for Asians, hallucinogenic for crackers. A close second was a guy in my small group who specializes in Nahlins cooking and made dinner for our gathering. I was mercilessly mocked for having trouble breathing after my first couple bites of his crawfish stew.

So the lesson is: Don't try to be a hero. But if you won't heed my example, attempt heroism alone.