My old boss thought that if she had a daughter, she'd name her either Chili or Pepper. Hot. Nor, not. I prefer my peppers sweet and slippery, and when they're cheap, Mr B brings home bags of bright red capsicums to marinate.
Chop chop.
Mess!
Burn, baby, burn.
Studded with slivers of garlic, chili, and doused in olive oil and balsamic. Now, marinate away, my lovelies!
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