"The chili pepper does not want to be your friend."
July 5, 2014 4:59 PM   Subscribe

The Gut-Wrenching Science Behind the World’s Hottest Peppers
The 17 tribes of Nagaland are united, historically, by an enthusiasm for heads. The Nagas: Hill Peoples of Northeast India—my reading matter on the two-hour drive from Dimapur to Kohima, in the state of Nagaland —contains dozens of references to head-taking but only one mention of the item that has brought me here: the Naga King Chili (a.k.a. Bhut Jolokia), often ranked the world’s hottest. “In the Chang village of Hakchang,” the anthropologist J. H. Hutton is quoted as saying in 1922, “...women whose blood relations on the male side have taken a head may cook the head, with chilies, to get the flesh off.” Hutton’s use of “cook” would seem to be a reference to Chang culinary practice. Only on rereading did I realize the Chang weren’t eating the chilies—or the flesh, for that matter—but using them to clean the skull. Such is the perplexing contradiction of the genus Capsicum: condiment and industrial solvent, pleasure and pain.

The Arms Race to Grow World's Hottest Pepper Goes Nuclear - "Nobody Holds Record Long; After 800,000 Scoville Units, Watch Out"
The Search For The World's Hottest Pepper
The bhut jolokia is a hundred and fifty times hotter than a jalapeño. Gastromasochists have likened it to molten lava, burning needles, and “the tip of my tongue being branded by a fine point of heated steel.” Yet, at more than a million Scoville heat units—the Scoville scale, developed by the pharmacist Wilbur Scoville in 1912, measures the pungency of foods—the bhut jolokia is at least 462,400 SHU short of being the world’s hottest chili pepper.
In 2013, the Guinness Book Of World Records confirmed Smokin Ed's 'Carolina Reaper' as the World's Hottest Pepper. Watch these 23 Hilarious Reactions to eating it. Not quite up to it? Try one of these other ten. Or visit The Capital Of Heat. Got too many on your hands? Try making Conserva de Pimenta .

Scientists Reveal Structure of Pain Sensor
In December, however, scientists reported creating a high-resolution image of the protein’s structure for the first time. Like the blueprint of a motor, that information should help researchers understand how the tiny apparatus can respond to such a wide array of signals — from temperature to toxins — and the role it plays in both acute and chronic pain. The results could ultimately lead to new painkillers, potentially without the troublesome side effects of opiates.
posted by the man of twists and turns (33 comments total)

This post was deleted for the following reason: Double. -- taz



 
Excellent front page post, bravo.
posted by Catblack at 5:12 PM on July 5, 2014 [1 favorite]


Previously, the apocalypse pepper.
posted by justsomebodythatyouusedtoknow at 5:15 PM on July 5, 2014 [6 favorites]


A. The Smithsonian piece is fantastic. The whole issue is devoted to food, but the Naga pepper article is definitely the most fun.

B. I have a jar full of bhut jolokia in the pantry. The guy who gave them to me smoked and dried them. My landlord and I opened the jar a few days ago and took a whiff. A lot of sneezing and coughing was had.
posted by artof.mulata at 5:20 PM on July 5, 2014


My husband grows super-hot peppers in our backyard garden for fun, and I have told before the story of the time he accidentally weaponized them and we couldn't go back in the house for over an hour.
posted by Eyebrows McGee at 5:25 PM on July 5, 2014 [2 favorites]


The mind-bogglingly hot 'sauces' mentioned in the one article aren't really that -- they're food additives, and are labeled as such. They're really not much more than increasingly pure capsaicin delivery mechanisms in fluid. You don't slather them on your sandwich or in your stew, you put a drop or two in a large quantity of food being cooked and hope for the best as far as proper dosage.

The desirability paradox is that the mega-extracts add heat in spades -- but very little else. Habaneros, Scotch Bonnets and peppers in that region of heat have distinct, fruity flavors alongside searing heat, and make a lot of dishes much tastier. Beyond naturally occurring levels of cap is mostly a scientist's game of Can You Top This.

If you want a taste, look for this at your local Trader Joe's. Just remember that you've been warned, and don't sprinkle it on someone else's burger for a laugh or they are legally allowed to stab you in response.
posted by delfin at 5:29 PM on July 5, 2014 [7 favorites]


Sort of the culinary version of gun nuts...
posted by jim in austin at 5:46 PM on July 5, 2014 [2 favorites]


As a lifelong enthusiast of Capsicum (quite possibly from shortly after birth), I have moderately high tolerance for the hotter chiles and generally prefer heat over what seems, to me, to be disappointingly mild.

But heat for heat's sake isn't about gastronomy, it's about something else. If all you're noticing is the heat, then you're not doing it right. Which is to say, either it's too hot for you and it's overpowering everything else into irrelevance, or you're only paying attention to heat and you've not learned how to properly enjoy chile. In the former case, find something more comfortable and work your way to hotter chile while paying attention to and enjoying the nuances of the flavor. In the latter case, stop thinking primarily about heat and start paying close attention to the flavors.

Seriously, this is a bit of pet-peeve of mine. It's like people only being aware of and talking about how differently strongly bitter various beers or coffees are and valorizing the enjoyment of the bitterness for its own sake and not as part of the whole experience.

Yes, of course the bitterness is essential to the flavor of both coffee and beer! Just so with heat and chiles. But just as with beers and coffees, different chiles and dishes made with chile include a complex mix of interacting flavors and that characteristic trait is only one part of the whole — and, importantly, the strength of that characteristic flavor can either enhance or degrade the overall taste.

Also, it's important to be aware that individual plants for various reasons, especially growing conditions, will vary their concentration of capsaicin by surprisingly large amounts. Generalizations about the relative heat of common chiles may or may not be statistically valid; but even when they're valid, they may not apply to the particular chiles you're using/eating. So thinking of different chiles in terms of heat is useful only in broad strokes, as rules-of-thumb, and instead you should mostly be focusing on the flavor profile of different chiles independent of heat and then adjusting the heat within that context. That is to say, first select the varieties of chile you prefer for their overall flavors and then, second, select for heat within a variety to suit your preference.

For example, I happen to think that the jalapeño is a relatively uninteresting, one-note chile that is vastly improved by smoking, which transform it into chipotle. For some of us, the heat of jalapeños is not that hot; but for many Americans, jalapeños are at the edge of the limits of their comfortable enjoyment. But we all can enjoy the interesting flavor of chipotles if we find chiles and foods that use jalapeños with an appropriate level of heat to suit our individual taste. Similarly, the habanero is a wonderful, complexly flavored chile but it's too hot for most Americans. But you can find less hot habaneros and/or foods that use them carefully such that this isn't so much of a problem. From the other direction, the varieties of the Anaheim/Big Jim/New Mexico chile found in southwest cuisine have a large heat range but is skewed toward the mild end. The flavor is rightly praised and beloved, but if you want heat, outside of New Mexico (and often inside New Mexico), you're probably going to get something quite mild. But it you want heat like I do, you can find batches of this chile that are quite hot.

Again, it's also true that the heat interacts with the other flavors in important ways (though partly subject to each person's individual palate) and so the comparison to the bitterness of beers and coffees is apt — outside of a range, regardless of anyone's acclimatization, too hot or too mild will simply not be in balance with the other flavors for a given chile in a given dish.
posted by Ivan Fyodorovich at 6:01 PM on July 5, 2014 [19 favorites]


Sort of the culinary version of gun nuts…

I grow these peppers and resemble that comment.

People ask me why? I like to be afraid of my food. I like food that is a test of courage. I like to have lips that are on fire, to be sweating, and to have tunnel vision while I eat. Sometimes, I can see through time.

I drop a few bhut joklia into a crock of curry. Yum yum.

I am growing the Carolina Reaper this year. It's supposed to be hotter than ether the joklia or the Trinidad Scorpion. We'll see. Thing is these things have flavor as well. Some are just hot with no fruit. I thought the Scorpion was boring.

My favorite pepper link: Spicy Interviews w/Pete Holmes and Chris Thayer
posted by cjorgensen at 6:04 PM on July 5, 2014


I have a four year old Bhut Jolokia plant that I grew from seed. He lives in the garden in the summer and we dig him up in the fall and bring him into the house in an obscenely large pot for the winter. His name is Mr. Pepper and he doesn't know where he is most of the time.

He makes about two gallon ziplock bags full of peppers every year. I'm sorry, I typed peppers but I meant to type DEATH. Zip lock bags full of death.

Accidentally getting some in the garbage disposal means having to quickly and efficiently exit the kitchen or gag on lava.
posted by lydhre at 6:12 PM on July 5, 2014 [5 favorites]


The mind-bogglingly hot 'sauces' mentioned in the one article aren't really that -- they're food additives, and are labeled as such. They're really not much more than increasingly pure capsaicin delivery mechanisms in fluid. You don't slather them on your sandwich or in your stew, you put a drop or two in a large quantity of food being cooked and hope for the best as far as proper dosage.

Hoo, boy. Once, my uncle got me a bottle of Blair's Original Death Sauce for Christmas. It was pretty tasty, and I told him so. The next year, he got me a little four-pack sampler of their sauces, three of which I tried right away (the Tequila Death was my favorite). The fourth I did not get around to for a bit.

Some months later, a friend came to visit, and we were sitting around making chicken sticks in the oven. I rooted around in the fridge for condiments, but all I had was that four pack of hot sauce. "This one's one's good, this one's really good...huh, that's right, I haven't tried this one yet. I'm going to have this!"

So I put about a tablespoon of the Sudden Death sauce on my plate, mopped up about half with the first chicken stick and popped it in. "Hey, not bad." Another stick, and in goes the rest. There was a pleasant, mild burn, but nothing terrible. For a while.

A minute or so into it, the pain was really starting to ramp up. Unbeknownst to me, Sudden Death is not "sauce" per se, but rather one of the additives delfin mentions. The label (which I did not read) advises using a "microdot" on your favorite foods to enhance flavor. My eyes watered. My breath came in gasps. The pain continued to intensify. I swallowed. The sauce coated my throat, which began to close. I ran into the bathroom, why I don't know. Seemed like the thing to do. My girlfriend knocked on the door, asking if I was ok. I could barely croak out the single syllable, "Nnnnooo." Then, "breeeaad". She said, "We don't have any bread!" I choked out, "Miiilk." Again the reply, "We don't have any milk!" Breathing was growing difficult. I honestly thought I was going to die. My throat was going to close and I was going to suffocate because of some stupid hot sauce. I ran out into the kitchen.

I found a potato pancake that I had fried. I ate it, desperate to stop the burning by whatever means available. The pancake's crisped, fried edges scraped down my throat like broken glass. I tore the cabinets apart and found bread crumbs. I sat down with a tablespoon and shoveled them into my mouth, spoonful after spoonful. I don't think it helped, but it made me feel better. The entire time this was going on, my friend was watching with eyes wide and mouth hanging open.

About half an hour after the ordeal began, the burning had died down to a mere unpleasant ache. Two days later my tongue still didn't feel quite right, and I was worried I had permanently damaged my taste buds, but eventually I seemed to regain full use of them. That stuff is no joke. Read your labels.
posted by Steely-eyed Missile Man at 6:18 PM on July 5, 2014 [14 favorites]


Nagah Lamb at Grameen Khana in the Balti Triangle, Birmingham, UK.

Go to there. Eat that.

(I also recommend the mackerel bhuna).

I have never had anything even close to it since and miss it dearly.
posted by srboisvert at 6:31 PM on July 5, 2014 [1 favorite]


So last year I planted some pepper seeds in a pot, which started sprouting rather late in the season, and I ended up bringing the pot in the house for the winter. I forgot to mark exactly what I had planted - my guesses were it was either Criolla Sella or lemon pepper seeds I had bought from a vendor on eBay. The two seedlings weren't exactly thriving and blossoms kept dropping with no fruit setting, so I couldn't really tell what it was during the winter. In the spring I finally transplanted them in a larger pot in the yard, after which they grew like crazy, and I finally got to see some peppers forming. And, they didn't look anything like Criolla Sella or lemon peppers. From doing some image searches online it appears I have some variety of Trinidad 7 Pot - it appears the eBay vendor sent me the wrong kind of seed. This makes me unhappy, as I am not into superhot peppers. I like the baccatum varieties such as the Criolla Sella because of the citrusy flavor, which make for fantastic hot sauces. Superhots like the 7 Pot, I don't know what one does with them.
posted by research monkey at 6:33 PM on July 5, 2014


My husband grows super-hot peppers in our backyard garden for fun, and I have told before the story of the time he accidentally weaponized them and we couldn't go back in the house for over an hour.

LOL! I did this some jerk sauce and a george foreman grill. Cleared the sinuses and tear ducts of an entire house full of college students. Good times.
posted by srboisvert at 6:37 PM on July 5, 2014


People ask me why? I like to be afraid of my food. I like food that is a test of courage.

I mostly like it when food tastes good.
posted by Horace Rumpole at 6:43 PM on July 5, 2014 [17 favorites]


My wife bought some Scotch Bonnet plants a few years ago and they produced way too many peppers so that we stopped picking them. In the fall after frost killed off the garden, we let our Indian Runner ducks (non-flying ducks of the sort that are in those "huge herd of ducks" videos) forage all the ruined vegetables - green tomatoes and over-sized zucchini. I'm watching from the other side of the fence, when a duck runs up and starts gobbling down scotch bonnets. I was very alarmed, fully expecting that the poor thing was suddenly going to flop over and start twitching in it's death throes. Instead it continued eating and making happy duck noises. Later, a trip to wikipedia enlightens me to the fact that birds are not affected by capsicum.
posted by 445supermag at 6:53 PM on July 5, 2014 [4 favorites]


According to the Scoville scale, the hottest peppers I've had were scotch bonnets. (Though I've had hotter dishes made with lesser peppers, I assume either that's because of variation in the peppers' strength or simply in how hot the dishes were prepared.) The scotch bonnet is at or past the upper end of my tolerance; the ultra hot varieties seem like the food equivalent of those guys who get off by having their testicles stepped on and kicked. I've watched the videos of people trying them, and honestly getting my nuts kicked might be more fun.
posted by Dip Flash at 6:56 PM on July 5, 2014


"Then, 'breeeaad'. She said, 'We don't have any bread!' I choked out, 'Miiilk.'"

I'm sure many people here know this, but capsaicin isn't water soluble, but is fat soluble, so that's why water doesn't help and why milk (somewhat) helps. Plain vegetable oil or olive oil works quite well. I've found that it's difficult to convince people to try a tablespoonful of olive oil instead of the water they think will help, though. It's also alcohol soluble, but most alcoholic beverages are mostly water and highly pure alcohol, like a 190-proof grain alcohol, will probably be unnecessarily unpleasant itself for most people.
posted by Ivan Fyodorovich at 6:58 PM on July 5, 2014 [5 favorites]


Thanks Ivan, I knew about milk, but that olive oil is a good tip.
posted by valkane at 7:04 PM on July 5, 2014


Be aware that the Trader Joe's product mentioned by delfin is extremely seasonal and limited in quantity. You can call your neighborhood TJs and have them call you when they get it in (they'll probably hold some for ya. :))

I've grown two different super hots (nagabon and Jonah 7pot) and I enjoy them fresh and dried. I'm always interested in new superhots!

What do people think of a mefi pepperhead seed exchange/swap?
posted by schyler523 at 7:08 PM on July 5, 2014


Every year I go to a friends' hotluck, where people make spicy food and we all eat it or watch others attempt to do so. For a few years it was a bit of an arms race, but the insanity has been dialed back. Nobody could really top the habanero brownies, nor did they want to try.

I'm just glad my friend does not have access to Guatemalan Insanity Peppers, or his chicken dishes would require some sort of hazardous materials license.
posted by fifteen schnitzengruben is my limit at 7:09 PM on July 5, 2014 [1 favorite]


~People ask me why? I like to be afraid of my food. I like food that is a test of courage.
~I mostly like it when food tastes good.


This is sort of where I am with hot stuff. I love über-hot peppers, but I have little patience with foods that are nothing but fire and no flavor. I have a bag of dried Bhut Jolokias in my pantry that I plan on using to make something incendiary yet too tasty to stop eating. It has to have flavor. Any idiot can make a super-hot sauce.
posted by Thorzdad at 7:10 PM on July 5, 2014


(Though I've had hotter dishes made with lesser peppers, I assume either that's because of variation in the peppers' strength or simply in how hot the dishes were prepared.)

This ties in with what Ivan explained above. There is a lot of wiggle room even within a single pepper species, and infinitely more room for confusion with respect to commercially prepared pepper concoctions. A chile pepper, a chile pepper sauce and a chile pepper extract are three very different things to consider, but all three will vary wildly depending on their source.

My very broad rule of thumb is this: I have yet to have anything flamingly, searingly hot from a chain restaurant. Ever. Burger King can trot out Habanero BBQ Whoppers all they want and I'm not even going to notice. A mom-and-pop restaurant? Approach with caution as their ingredients may well turn out to be the real deal.

My favorite test of culinary machismo is at a restaurant I know in Delaware. Their Armageddon Wing challenge has simple rules: four minutes, six wings, their own bhut jolokia sauce coating said wings. You must remain seated, and no drinks, no napkins, no utensils, no wiping your face or hands, no biting down on a stick.

Succeed in downing the six wings? Hold on. Now the clock resets to five minutes and you must simply sit there and marinate in your own juices -- no drinks, no bathroom, no napkin, no wiping your face, no standing up. Only THEN have you 'won.'
posted by delfin at 7:10 PM on July 5, 2014


My adventures with spice began about six years ago. I was at a Belgian-beer bar in Tokyo, having just moved here, and mowing down pizza when I noticed some Sudden Death (with the keychain staring me down). With my face full of piercings, I thought "surely we'll be a good match, that's pretty metal looking!" I started with one dot on every fourth slice, and eventually moved on, over the course of a few years, to several drops on each slice. The horrible beauty of it is that your tongue will acclimatize, but the rest of you won't. That is to say, once you start ramping up, you'll spend progressively longer and more torturous sessions in the bathroom the next day.

There comes a point, though, a beautiful, transitional point, where you cross a threshold, just like a runner and his high, and your body says to itself "ok, fuck this," and turns on the endorphins. I was at an Indian restaurant in Shinjuku, one of the first dates I'd been on with my now waifu (not a good way to develop a relationship, guys), and I quite literally got massively friggin high on their bhut jolokia curry. I was streaming buckets of sweat, vibrating back and forth, and had a permanent clown-mask grin on me. The restaurant employees thought it was the funniest goddamn thing they'd ever seen; I guess they don't have many people opt for that level of hotness. I've never understood people who whinge about "oh but it's just hot, there's no flavor!" The point is not to add flavor, the point is to add experience. It's like that cathartic moment of pain when you're having a very strange and delicate body piercing done and you feel like "goddamn this giant hairy guy with tattoos is going to rip my X off," and then all of a sudden the needle goes through and you're just sitting there with a racing heart and a grin.

I can definitely see why people have problems with it though. At that previously-mentioned bar, my DM for several years thought he'd give the death sauce/pizza combo his own first try after watching my long-trained mouth conquer with ease. He had expected the bottle to function similarly to a tabasco sauce bottle, and so when a massive glob of death sauce came out on a single slice, he simply buckled up, spread the sauce around, and (again, against my recommendations) ate.

Then spent 45 minutes in the bathroom vomiting and crying before coming back and sheepishly informing us that he was going home.
posted by GoingToShopping at 7:12 PM on July 5, 2014 [1 favorite]


Such is the perplexing contradiction of the genus Capsicum: condiment and industrial solvent, pleasure and pain.

Basically peppers are the cenobites of the vegetable world.
posted by cortex at 7:50 PM on July 5, 2014 [7 favorites]


a trip to wikipedia enlightens me to the fact that birds are not affected by capsicum.

Suppose you fed chickens on big old bags of dried chilis. Would they lay spicy eggs? Would the chickens themselves taste different? I've wondered about this for years.
posted by Joe in Australia at 8:05 PM on July 5, 2014 [5 favorites]


"The point is not to add flavor, the point is to add experience."

There's nothing wrong with adding experience independent of flavor. I mean, a huge part of any culinary experience are all the things that aren't flavor and texture. Things ranging from colors and presentation to the mechanical processes and rituals of eating. Overpowering pain sensations that provoke endorphin release is certainly something that can be valued for its own sake in the context of food.

Again, think of the comparison to bitterness in beer (or some other foods/drinks that are unusually bitter). Valuing something primarily for its overpowering, extreme bitter flavor with the accompanying physiological reactions is a defensible reason to love a particular beer. But drinking all beers only for that reason, and understanding bitterness in beer exclusively in this mode, would be ... perverse. It would be extremely limited and you'd be missing out on so much.

Also, it's often culturally clueless and arguably disrespectful. People who aren't from cultures that drink beer, and/or who haven't been deeply familiar with beer as part of their daily experience, might approach their initial forays into beer drinking by noticing that some beers are much more bitter than others, that sometimes the more bitter beers are more highly regarded, and so then embark on a macho beer-drinking career that is all about drinking the very most bitter beers for the sake of drinking the most bitter beers, and doing so as a sort of public performance of one's social identity built around that. Meanwhile, the people who have actually been drinking beer all their lives, many of whom will prefer the more bitter beers, will correctly see this as being very blinkered and risible.
posted by Ivan Fyodorovich at 8:14 PM on July 5, 2014


I used to work as a cook at this bar in small town central Pennsylvania (nicknamed "ringside" due to the number of fights, ac/dc cover bands every Friday night, that kind of place) and these big truck driving, macho assholes would always come in, get a little drunk and order the hottest wings I could make as a way to impress their friends or whatever girl was lurking around with her new '80s perm (it was 1998 or so).

Whatever, your wish is my command, right? So I would make these toxic wings and each time I would personally deliver them and warn the guy who ordered them (it was always a guy) to absolutely not go to the bathroom prior to scrubbing his hands with soap and water. They never would listen and I would always have to deal with an angry drunk moron with a burning wang.

Man, I loved that job.
posted by Literaryhero at 9:12 PM on July 5, 2014 [3 favorites]


To me once you get past the Scotch Bonnets and Ghost Peppers the "organic tasty pepper material" to "pure capsaicin" ratio has jumped the shark and you might as well just be using a solution of pure oil and oleo capsicum at that point. The plant is simply the most efficient way to produce it. Like when people say "OMG Indian Military using Ghost Peppers!" it's like "yeah, it's like growing Sugar Beets that have a lot of sugar in them. The beets are great and all but they are just using them as sugar-production cells. It's the matrix of beets and peppers, ahhh!!!"

My sweet spot is around Jalepeño-Serrano range, 3,000-30,000 Scoville units, and when it comes to hot sauces I prefer for them to be more slather-able without next day punishment, so Tobasco, Sriracha, Cholula, Red Hot, etc...I got out of he "fad sauce phase" when everyone around me thought I loved chiles so much they should buy me the same few variations of wacky sauce samplers. Some of those are abysmal by the way, "straight to the thoughtless gift category" like a "straight to DVD" movie.

So many of the foods that I enjoy super-hot are also so heavy or rich (see wings, curries, curries) and so often co-mingled with beer, the hangover becomes multi-dimensionally painful and I've learned to taper it back quite a bit, beer or no beer.
posted by aydeejones at 9:17 PM on July 5, 2014 [1 favorite]


Recently my house has reached a new level of culinary cooperation. My wife's 'ceiling' of heat is no longer below my floor of detection. I credit her for pushing her threshold daringly, becauae I'm still eating habaneros and scorpion peppers. I'm not tempted to try the reaper though. At a certain point I stopped getting much out of increased heat.
posted by BrotherCaine at 9:53 PM on July 5, 2014


I love hot chillies and I love hot food. My local Indian takeaway does a thing called Chicken Naga Jolokia. It comes with a warning. Given that their basic vindaloo is one of the hottest I've ever had (and believe me, I've had a lot) it was with some trepidation that I ordered it. I took a video of myself tackling it, meaning to post the result on Youtube in order to provide yuks to those who are into such things. The video turned out to be too low-quality to use, but I handled the curry pretty well. Significant scalp pricklage and cheek sweating was involved in the experience; also minor gasping and one request for Jesus to intervene, even though I'm an atheist. But overall, it was fun.
posted by Decani at 9:56 PM on July 5, 2014 [1 favorite]


If you're doing a stir-fry and you have to leave the kitchen because the vaporization of the peppers feels like tear gas, I think you've overdone the heat thing. I love hot food, but if it burns the shit out of my mouth, I am not enjoying it. I believe that makes sense to everyone except the die-hard chile-heads.
posted by kozad at 10:02 PM on July 5, 2014




The family that owns/runs Bo Mack's BBQ in Albany, OR, make their own sauces in-house. I usually have the brisket plate and ask for some of the Hooligan sauce. They bring it out in a tiny plastic ramekin. I have yet to finish even that small amount.

I'm not a heat aficionado, but I do like some heat and I find precious little of it in Oregon. The Hooligan sauce provides a hell of an experience. It's a little sweet and a lot hot, and I usually dab a dot on a piece of brisket. I savor the bite, let the heat build, then I take another bite dipped in the Unleashed sauce -- jalapenos and habanero -- to cut the heat before it goes insane. I go slow, don't overdo it, and spend the meal tingling and hot. Mmm. Damn.
posted by malthusan at 11:29 PM on July 5, 2014


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