I love spicy food. Got the kick growing up with Mexican and Thai, and upped my game in Hong Kong. Sichuan restaurants reign supreme here and between Yu Chuan, Da Ping Huo and Manchurian Candidate, I get my spice fix early and often.
Spice is a curious thing. It’s the most cultural of tastes. Most people anywhere will agree if something is too sour, bitter or salty, but ask if it’s spicy and you’ll get a spectrum of responses. Some are chili warriors like myself; others find Tabasco hotter than a leaked Kate Upton photo.
To me, spice is also machismo. There’s something manly about eating super-hot food with no ill effects, while your dinner companions sweat and shiver. I once took out two American girls who wanted to try Sichuan peppers. Two bites of la mian later and tears were streaming from their eyes. My friend arrived late to find me sitting next to two sobbing girls. “What the hell did you do?” he asked. “What the hell did I do?” I said mischievously. The only thing that was missing was an evil cat for me to stroke.
Recently I decided to up my game again. On a trip to Singapore I found a restaurant that specializes in chili challenges. They have 10 levels of spice. You can jump right in at level 6, but from there you’ve got to work your way up. To date there are a ton of No. 6s, a few 7s, three 8s, one 9, and zero 10s. Sacrebleu!
To complete the spice challenge is simple: eat a spicy dish in its entirety. No yogurt-based drinks, but you can have naan and rice and beer. Spice champion that I am, I polished off the dish quickly. It was hot, but not HOT; in fact, I can’t remember the last time I tried something HOT. You’re talking to somebody who takes prairie fire shots for fun: half-shot of tequila, half-shot of Tabasco. I signed up for level 7 for my next trip to Singapore, and invited two suckers to join.
Back in HK, I started to think. Not many people make a 7; it might actually be spicy. What if it was too spicy? Is that even possible? I developed a set of strategies: a) Wait for the dish to cool and gobble it fast, b) Muscle through half of it, recover, then muscle through the rest, c) Get extremely drunk to numb my taste buds and then just go for it. All seemed extremely reasonable.
Flash forward to the night: the plate is brought in front of me. I decide to go with a new strategy: d) Bury the curry in rice to diffuse the spice and volume-eat it. I carbo-loaded my plate and was ready to go.