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Chilli Blog

Alex de Wit

a letter to your company

Dear Chilli Factory,

I drooled onto my keyboard when I heard about your discovery of the world’s hottest chili pepper. Just the thought of 1.46 million scorching hot Scoville units made my head swim. The granddaddy of all peppers, the one to rule them all, Butch T promised to pack a serious punch. I had to bear witness to this incredible feat.

I placed an order online and within 5 minutes received an email announcing shipment of my package. 40 hours later the Scorpion Strike Chili Sauce was at my front door.

Like an 8 year old on Christmas, I ripped the box to smithereens. The anticipation was excruciating. I could only imagine the orgasmic euphoria of next-level incineration tearing through my organs.   

Sure, I feel the pain. Like most other mortals my nose runs, my throat burns, my tongue swells, my stomach turns. The difference is that I like it. I thrive on the discomfort. I can’t get enough. When things get “too hot”, I don’t stop. I march forward.

My resume is long and distinguished. While my taste buds were still in their developmental stage I enthusiastically sought the hottest salsas, the spiciest sauces. As I grew and matured, so did my tolerance for heat. Tabasco, Crystal, Tapatio. They weren’t enough. I tried every sauce on my quest for something to make me scream, “Uncle”.

I ate serrano, jalapeño, and locoto peppers like they were candy. I once scarfed down a home grown habañero, slightly roasted over flame to draw out its oils, which gave me a serious run for my money. It still wasn’t enough.

One Christmas morning my sister gifted me a bottle of Dave’s Insanity Sauce. “It’s really hot,” she said. “So be careful.” Yeah, sure. Like I was going to believe that. I poured a quarter of the bottle, a 3 month supply of that noxious stuff, all over my scrambled eggs. I took two bites and immediately realized my error.

Tears streamed from my eyes. I couldn’t see. My lips went numb. My throat constricted. I struggled to breath. The fork in my hand quivered, and I could barely see the yellow specks on my plate under the carpet of red. I felt like I was doing irreparable harm to my body, like I was going to fall out of my chair, like I was about to require an ambulance, but I had to push on. I had to finish my breakfast. I didn’t stop until all the eggs were in my stomach, which had become an unstable cauldron of bubbly virulence.

I was out of commission for an hour, but I wasn’t out of the fight, not by a long shot. Even a massive overdose of Dave’s Insanity Sauce, the best the world could muster at the time, couldn’t ruin my morning.    

Yes, I have quite a resume, and now it’s your turn to have a go Chilli Factory, to put my body, and my sanity, to the test.

Scorpion Strike Chili, made from the hottest strain of Trinidad Scorpion chili known to man and guaranteed stupid hot, lives up to its promise. This sauce isn’t hot. It’s scorch-your-ass ferocious.

I ate a spoonful on my test run. At first I was disappointed. Here was another sauce claiming to be the hottest ever but again falling short of the mark. Sure, it was one of the tastiest hot sauces I’d ever eaten, but World’s hottest? Yeah right.

Then the heat built. And it built some more. And it kept on building until I went dizzy in the head. My lips pulsed in pain. My throat felt like it was disintegrating. My nose gushed. Tears streamed. I felt the heat moving into my gut. Throbbing warmth emanated from my belly as the sauce blazed its way through my intestines. I felt third degree burns wherever the stuff had contacted me.

I gave an honest to goodness effort, but eventually had to give in. When yogurt had no effect, I started to worry. When bottle after bottle of ice cold water didn’t put out the fire, I started to panic. I had no choice but to ride it out. Like a cowboy on an untamed bull, I held on for dear life, but I had to go much longer than 8 seconds.

Eventually I regained some of my senses and the raging fire in my mouth turned to a dull heat in my stomach. I found myself in a strange euphoria for the rest of the day. My hearing improved, my eyesight sharpened, and despite the rumblings in my stomach, my tennis game was phenomenal. I felt like I could take Nadal in straight sets.

The next day’s evacuation caused much strain, as is to be expected after any altercation with record breaking chili, but I don’t regret a thing. I’m glad that the Butch T came into my life.

Scorpion Strike isn’t only the hottest sauce I’ve ever eaten; it’s also one of the most delicious, which leaves me with a small problem. How do I get this stuff on all of my food? Is it socially acceptable to put hot sauce on ice cream?

So far my bottle of Scorpion Strike has been a welcome companion on my outings to restaurants. I’ve used it in curries, pastas, pizzas, hamburgers, hot dogs, and sandwiches. There’s nothing like a flaming hot PB&C to get your juices flowing.

But putting it on my food just isn’t enough. Between meals my mind drifts towards the chili, so periodically throughout the day I put trace amounts on my finger and rub it on my gums like some sort of spiced out coke head. So far my attempts to curb the cravings have only served to raise my heat tolerance to absurd levels.

I’ve been sharing the sauce with anyone brave enough to try it. I gave it to one woman from Bangladesh who brushes her teeth with ghost chili. Despite my warnings she knew Butch T was like all the other chilies she’s tried from Caucasian society. “Tabasco with a little extra,” she said. “It won’t do anything to me.” She poured globs of it all over her hamburger.

To her credit she handled her symptoms well, but I’m a seasoned veteran, I could see her pain. She tried desperately to stop the tears, her running nose, her burnt tongue. She disappeared from sight, only to return with an ice cold soda and a bold statement. “It’s real.”

It doesn’t get more real than The Chilli Factory’s Scorpion Strike chili sauce. I can’t thank the de Wit family in Morisset, New South Wales enough for their amazing contribution to human culture. I won’t say that my life’s work has come to an end, since my tolerance for the sauce has increased with each passing day, but I know that the bar you’ve set won’t be beaten for a long time to come.

I just pray that you’ll forever continue to push the heat envelope to blistering new levels, spreading happiness to adventurous souls courageous enough to consume your liquid fire. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Fiery hot regards,

James Spiller

Greetings. My name is James Spiller and I recently purchased several bottle of your Scorpion Strike Chilli. Since I'm a writer I decided to express my feelings towards your product by composing a letter to your company. I know it's long, but please feel free to put this letter on your website if you wish, or use it in any other way you see fit. If you need any writing duties, please consider me as an option. I will work for chilli!

Cheers James much appreciated!!

Anybody interested in more James Spiller? Check out his website....

Alex de Wit 30/09/2012

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