When it comes to food, I’m a heat pussy. A KFC Zinger is about as spicy as I can handle. This is often a good source of ridicule for my friends who find it hard to believe that someone who is half Philippino can’t handle anything spicy.
I just don’t understand why people put themselves through it. Food is supposed to be enjoyed not endured. To me, there is nothing worse than sitting down to eat a meal when you are sweating up a storm and extremely uncomfortable. It just doesn’t make sense… suffering through a meal.
When I am out for dinner, I use the chili alarm scale on the menu to judge whether or not I could handle a meal. Usually, one chili alarm is the most I can handle. If I’m feeling a bit adventurous, I might order a two chili alarm dish, as long as I can ask them to make it mild. One of the worse things that can happen is when the menu lies. A dish may only be one chili alarm on the menu, but in actual fact it is more like a three or four chili alarm and so I am sitting there mopping up the sweat from my brow with a napkin.
Last night I went for dinner at The Yard Bird Ale House, in the Valley, a restaurant well known for their delicious buffalo chicken wings. When I sat down, I noticed on the blackboard a large skull with a big WARNING above it. The warning read, ‘Our Death Sentence Wings are not for Amateurs!’ This tickled my interest so I consulted the menu. There, under the chicken wings section was Death Sentence Wings with not a one chili alarm, not a two chili alarm, not even a six chili alarm but a TWELVE CHILI ALARM!!
On my scale of hotness, a twelve chili alarm should mean that my head will explode on contact so I couldn’t help but question the rating. The waitress told me that her eyes water when she smells them. I didn’t believe her, so I decided to have one.
When they came out, I smelt them and my face didn’t melt, nor did my eyes water. I grabbed the wing and licked some of the sauce off my finger. It tasted like concentrated peri peri sauce. No biggy. I ate the wing and it wasn’t that hot. Everyone told me too wait for it to kick in, so I did. I’ll admit, it was spicy. My mouth burned for a bit but it was a fire that was easily put out with beer and chips.
Disappointed in the 12 chili alarm rating, I challenged the waitress. She suggested that I take the Death Sentence Wing challenge. Going head to head in the Chicken Wing Champs. When I thought about it, I really don’t think that I could eat six Death Sentence Wings and nothing else. I mean, I did only have one. I asked the waitress what the record was and there on the blackboard was the record set on the 25th Jan, 2012… 39 Death Sentence Wings in one sitting.
I definitely could not do 39. I pretty sure my head would explode if I ate that many. But really, 12 chili alarm is a big call.