Pinback Reviewz The Hot Saucez 2K9

Sauce: JOLOKIA HAVOC
By: DANNY CASH
Website: http://dannycash.com

Jolokia. The word strikes fear and desire into the hearts and minds of any fan of capsaicin, any hot food enthusiast. The mysterious pepper, discovered a couple years ago and found to be, by far, the hottest chile on earth, eclipsing the previous record holder, the habanero, by nearly a factor of three. Known as “Naga Jolokia”, “Bhut Jolokia”, or sometimes the “Ghost Pepper”, one word is enough to say all that needs to be said. Jolokia.

That being said, I had yet to actually taste it when I arrived in Colorado. Perusing our local hippie grocery store, I picked up a bottle of “Gilberto’s Gourmet Goodness’ Zesty Cayenne” sauce, I took it home, sampled it, and immediately fell in love. This will be an upcoming review, but suffice it to say I was so impressed that I immediately contacted the maker herself to express my appreciation. Imagine my surprise when she wrote back, expressing hers in kind, and then telling me all about their operation in Fort Collins. An in with the local hot sauce guys! Awesome.

I mentioned later that their other sauce (Habanero/Garlic) reminded me of Danny Cash’s Bottled Up Anger, which was always one of my very favorites from back when I became a serious hot sauce nerd. Another surprise, she said Danny was one of their best friends. ANOTHER surprise, Danny is local too, right up the road a few miles in good ol’ Englewood, Colorado!

Well, knowing that I’d be supporting a local product, I went right onto Danny’s website and pretty much bought everything in the store. Another Bottled Up Anger. The habanero-laden Radical Heat. The Smokin’ Tailpipe chipotle sauce.

And then I saw it. A 5oz flask of Jolokia Havoc. Nothing but jolokia, and a little vinegar and salt. This was it. This was what I’d been waiting for.

The package arrived, and I frantically, like an obsessed pit bull, rummaged through the box to find the flask. I peeled off the plastic wrapper, and then went about opening the flask. This proved to hurt just as much as the sauce would later, as the flask is, while cool, a real piece of shit, that required me to get pliers out to unscrew the damn cap.

Finally, though, I dug and scratched my way in there, and shook out about a dime-sized dollop onto a corn chip. Within a half-second, I just launched the damn thing into my mouth.

And…

Hmm. Nothing. I was braced, both mentally and physically, for a searing blast of horrific heat which would knock me back into the corner of the kitchen counter, cause me to tumble over, likely crack my head on the pantry door, and then bleed to death while the tarantulas giggled to themselves in their little plastic cups. But it didn’t come.

And I waited, and waited, and… after about 30 seconds of waiting, I realized that in my fear of the heat, I had overlooked one really amazing thing about this sauce, this homage to the jolokia legend — it tasted fantastic! An indescribable deep, rich earthiness, with even a touch of smoke, and even a hint of sweetness, provided maybe the best balance in a 1-ingredient hot sauce I’d ever experienced. Right then, I fell in love.

And right after, the jolokia decided it was done waiting, and kicked into high gear. I’ve never had a sauce with that long a build. Not even close. I would say it didn’t hit full strength until at least a minute after I bit into it. But when it gets there, you know it, and if you’re like me, you’ll love it, and just sit there with a goofy grin on your sweating, red-hued face.

I am addicted to this sauce, in love with the Jolokia, and cannot thank Danny Cash, and the fine folks at Gilberto’s for paving the way for me to enjoy it.

I give Jolokia Havoc:

A million whimpering losers crying out, and then suddenly silenced!