I wasn't sure what to name this blog. A month ago, we hosted a potluck at my house. My housemate Dave brought out his Limited Edition Dave's Insanity Sauce that is sold in a wooden box, like a tomb, with caution tape around it. The hot sauce is made from the ghost pepper chili, which is the hottest chili on the market.
Dave received the hot sauce as a gift, but plans to use it as a recipe ingredient rather than as a condiment. He appreciates heat, but says he knows his limits. Plus, the sauce actually comes with a warning against tasting it on its own. My housemate Zack and I both like hot stuff and responded to the words of caution as a challenge. I put some on a piece of bread and Zack piled some on a chip.
Zack poured too much hot sauce on his food and, as a result, he downed a quart of soy milk attempting to quench the heat. The large quantity of soy milk and the heat of the Dave's Insanity resulted in a menacing form of nausea. Zack retreated to his bed and layed down. He reported feeling waves of heat sort of like acid reflux rolling up his chest every time he sat up.
My housemate Meredith kept waiting for me to tear up. I was fine, but I didn't eat as much of the sauce as Zack had eaten. Contrary to the opinion at the table, my taste buds are not gone. Capsaicin, the chemical responsible for the "heat," does no actual damage to tissues. I taste nuances of flavor and am good at distinguishing spices in foods. So, there. I just like spice.