My life as a chilihead has had its ups and downs, burning moments as well as those cold, damp recesses we usually avoid; it can be said that I have gone through various periods, stages, which all influenced one another in some way, however subtle or imposing. For in the years of experience, I have learned lessons of hurt, good, and great, and walked amongst the sublimity of chili peppers - a path where today no retreat is required.
As a child I was cared for by Guyanese babysitters, thus introduced to West Indian cuisine. Typical of them was to add varying degrees of heat to their food, usually with your regular Indian green chilis (Pusa Jwala) or Scotch Bonnets. Other than that, I did not regularly consume spicy food unless willing to challenge myself. Sometimes I would pick up a bottle of generic not-so-hot hot sauce at the supermarket; usually this would go to waste, as I very rarely finished the bottle.
Sometime between 7th and 8th grade I had a minor spike of interest in heat, and began to consume Jalapenos regularly. Once able to finish a Jalapeno without much of a struggle, I took notice of Habanero peppers in a nearby supermarket. Tempted by their reputation (back then I heard they were the hottest in the world), I purchased a pack and took em home. After washing one, I took a bite and experienced something I did not expect. Boy, those Jalapenos mislead me! My lips burned, my tongue burned, even my ears burned! My face was going numb and my hair became a dribbling mop. I began to freak out, and in all futility drank water, only to go further ballistic afterwards. I panicked and held my mouth under the tap for about 10 minutes, and eventually - finally - the pain began to subside to tolerable levels.
What the hell? My ears were burning...? This was not normal, I had thought. Despite the hard lesson, I remained stubborn, and the following morning added a diced whole Habanero to my scrambled eggs. It took me about 30 minutes to finish the meal - the heat again was too much - and I decided perhaps Habaneros weren't quite for me. Regrettably, I abandoned the pack, and the remaining pods succumbed to mold.
About three years ago my interest in hot food was revived, and with my girlfriend began to eat all sorts of spicy food. We would explore the deepest trenches of the sauce aisles to find the perfect extra hot jerk sauce. We would order Vindaloos at Indian joints and learn to make something hotter at home. Eventually we decided it was time to step it up and add the real deal to our home-cooked delights - the C.Chinense peppers. We would purchase Habaneros and Scotch Bonnets at the local No Frills, and find creative ways to consume them. Curry, ceviche, we tried everything we could think of that was affordable to make. Eating one whole, however, was still too much for either of us, and I always maintained a certain level of moderation with Chinense pods to avoid unforgiving pain.
In 2009 I had my first chili grow. Browsing the home gardening sections of supermarkets and home improvement stores, I happily brought home several plants: a Caribbean Red Habanero, an Orange Habanero, four "Red Hot Thai" plants, and a single Jalapeno. The Jalapeno never did produce any flowers, and so no fruit; the Caribbean Red Habanero did not flower either, and the Orange Habanero was annihilated by a troop of snails. Yet in all good hope, I managed to enjoy a massive harvest of Thai peppers. In fact, they were so plentiful that I did not know what to do with all of them. I pickled them, oven-dried them, froze them, and found every reason and way to add them to whatever I was going to eat. I had too many and had to get rid of them without being wasteful. Growing Thai peppers seemed much like shedding dog hair - excessive pods everywhere! Even though I was greatly overwhelmed by the harvest, I had no regrets and intended to grow again the following summer. 2009 was also my first experience with VERY hot sauce, as I had picked up a bottle of Black Mamba sauce at Taste The 4th Sense. Extremely hot it was, so I only ever used it by the drop, but the smokey taste had me finishing the bottle within two months.
Back to the growing: 2010 was a prolific year, with four Orange Habaneros producing a harvest large enough to supply a small fruit market. I ended up freezing many of them and using them later for dishes that required serious heat, although I did gain decent tolerance from the grow. But it was not until 2011 that I became totally obsessed. Beginning with this summer, I enjoyed a bountiful harvest of unknown red C.Chinense from 2 plants I had germinated back in the later half of 2010. I also harvested a substantial amount of Hot Portugal pods, and my father enjoyed these quite a lot. I began to add hot peppers to everything I consumed; breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks. Soon enough my tolerance became quite high, and by fall I was able to eat pods of Habanero-level heat whole, no fidgeting. I had become a true chilihead, and while still evolving, I can consider myself matured.
Today, I am raising various seedings and taking good care of my two adult mystery Chinenses. I have become an aficionado for heat and a connoisseur of spicy, and intend to collect numerous seeds and grow them. I also have a large (or should I say HUGE) supply of dried Ghost Chilis for emergencies, or when a special recipe calls out. At this point, my family thinks I'm crazy, too far gone, but I only blink and smile, eat a Habanero and ask them if they want one. When they turn heads, I know I've proven a point and made a personal statement: chiles have become a part of my life, an element that without presence others know something is absent or wrong, hence a part of me and my identity for good and ever so.
Love heat, love life!
