I was delighted to return home to find that the three different chiles that I planted in the window box outside our kitchen have flourished, and are now ripe. These are lemon chiles - a deceptively delicate name. I picked one. I nibbled the end off it, and thought that it tasted sweet and delicious. I was about to bake some chicken with it. I cut a small, delicate slice, and offered it up to Alice - pretty much on the palm of my hand, as though I was giving a carrot to a pony. She took it up, chewed - and Spat It Out. And reached for water. These may be pretty little chiles, but they seem to be shockingly hot. I could imagine putting a sliver in a martini, but that's about it.