That might make a good test for the carelessly brave: "I can eat this pepper!"
A couple of years ago, we went to a friend's house for Thanksgiving dinner. Another guest brought some "habanero dip" - a lovely pale orange color. One brave soul immediately scooped a generous quantity of the dip and, exclaiming "I love hot stuff", popped it into his mouth. The reaction was slow, but inexorable. After he ran out of the room, wordlessly searching for a liter-sized bottle of beer, Wayne explained that the dip was simply pureed habaneros; he hadn't had a chance to explain that the label on the bowl, which read "HOT", was no understatement. I'm not sure if the intrepid guest even tasted the turkey that year (but his sinuses were clear). We're going back there this year. No telling what culinary surprises await us.
I picked my last bunch of the peppers on Friday, in anticipation of the first frost of the season (it got down to 31F). I live right on a small mountain river, and the cool air really settles around us at night. Before I built my garage (using a steel I-beam for the second story support - metal content), I would have to scrape ice off the windshield for 2 or 3 weeks before the folks in the nearby town. This year, I will make sure my wife doesn't dry the serranos - they gotta be fresh or frozen for use in guacamole.
Joe