The Story of Michael I's!
It was many years ago, the 19th century was just beginning, on the island that forms the boot of Italy in a little village on the south side of the island, which would be the soul of the boot, that the Intravaia family lived. This was a hard working family that had not yet heard of the American dream of winning the lottery and so labored long hours to make a better life for themselves.
Those were hard times in southern Sicily for it was the time of the great hot pepper famine of ought six - and those Intravaias were nothing if not the masters of the hot pepper. The villagers would speak with awe of the wonders of the Intravaia hot peppers. It was said that the baby pepper plants were watered with the tears and perspiration caused by eating the peppers and that this produced the intensity for the Intravaias peppers. Villagers hated to shake hands with the Intravaias because the pepper on their hand would get on their neighbors and they would not notice until they wiped their eyes.
But these were very bad economic times in old Sicily - all the big money had moved to Las Vegas - and this was the time of the great hot pepper famine. The Intravaia family knew there was a better life in America. So, with what few pepper seeds they had left and the clothes on their backs, they left their homeland to find a better life in America - in the Garden State.
The Intravaias prospered in the new land through hard work, ingenuity, and the love of their growing family. Their favorite grandson, little Mikie, stayed with them often, loved their cooking - for both Intravaia grandparents loved to cook Italian delicacies for their grandchildren - and was the first of the grandchildren to eat their hot peppers and like them.
As little Mikie grew up and served his country and waited patiently to win the lottery, he experimented often with his grandparents hot peppers to make the perfect hot pepper sauce. Some people search for the perfect pizza, some search for the perfect wave, some search for the perfect mate, but Mikie, Michael I, as he is known to to the real world, in his smoke filled kitchen, searched in to the night for the answer to his dream of the perfect pepper sauce.
By day, Michael was a high-tech component salesman, by night, an artiste working to paint his masterpiece with hot peppers. Night after night, he worked in the dream like fog of his steaming kitchen, eyes watering, fingers burning, forehead perspiring, heart pounding with anticipation of each batch's completion. The test comes when the pepper mavens at his place of employment become the arbiters of his work. To please this crew of self acclaimed hot pepper sauce experts is no small feat. Then the family test - all the little Intravaias grown up and raising little hot peppers of their own must approve.
Finally, after years of working and testing, excitement and disappointment, the final product was ready. It met the approval of all his colleagues and family. "Bravo!! Bravo!!", they shouted as perspiration broke out on their foreheads. The perfect hot pepper sauce, hot, but not too hot, a hint of sweetness, good for basting or dipping, rich color, a delicate nose, teasing on the palate and a clean finish. Magnifico!
If Mama Intravaia could see her favorite grandson now, her eyes would fill with tears, her forehead would perspire and she would eat her grandson's pepper sauced with every meal. "Just like Mikie" she would say, "very hot, but a little sweet."
So try Michael I's Honey Fired Pepper Sauce! Use it on every meal because this pepper sauce is Mikie's dream come true. A product of generations - and now he's quit his day job to bring you his wonderful sauce. Available at a restaurant or grocer near you. Look for it. Keep your I's open for Michael I's Honey Fired Pepper Sauce. Share the dream!
The Honey Fired Guys!
This is the space for Michael I's Bio. I'm gonna type some random garble here to fill in this space to test things out. It's a good idea if you ask me. No really. This one time a moose bit my sister. NO... wait.. I don't have a sister. If had a sister, that'd be really wierd. I wonder if Mike G. will notice my terrible dummy text. If he does, no matter. Because Mike G. is cool. Kinda odd that I rant about Mike G in Mike I's space huh?
This is the space for Murph's Bio. I'll put some dummy stuff here until they give something more concrete to use. By the way, Murph is my dad. Never would guessed that, would ya? Ha. Bet you didn't. Damn right. Murph isn't just my dad, he's also my best friend. Which is wierd to say, but really. Murph is awesome. He also REALLY likes fly-fishing and Jimmy Buffett. I got to see him at Christmas, which was nice. It'll be good to see him again when graduation rolls around.