A bag of burning pain
Like a beacon of hope to my tired evening shopping, a display case promising “Burning Pain” beckons to me. A bit lost between the familiar displays of paprika flavoured chips and Fanta, the stand has latched on to my deep potato chip desires. I came in for some plastic wrap and yogurt, but I’m willing to consume a product promising to scald my mouth.
Getting in closer, I get a look at these enticing combinations of potato chip and heat. I grab the first package for closer inspection. Its green writing matches the Jalapeño flavour. It’s even got a properly accented ñ. Perhaps it hints at somebody taking their heat seriously. I’m still regularly disappointed by things claiming to be hot here in Germany. Extremely spicy at best reaches the mild end of the American spectrum.
Translating from German, this package sports a small warning: “Extremely Hot! Keep away from children!” It’s a little difficult to contain my laughter. I hope they sell Halloween sizes.
In a poorly formatted small green stripe, I find a compact product description. Oddly, it’s written in English: “++++ Smoked Chili Chips ++++ Xtreme Hot > 8,000 Scoville ++++”. I imagine a product manager leaning awkwardly over the shoulders of some poor package designer. “What, no that’s not good, add a few more pluses. They convey hot. Ooh ooh, and write extreme with an X. That’ll always be cool… I mean hot!”
A bit above the amateurish label is a thermometer. Curiously, though the chips are labelled “Xtreme”, the thermometer shows only a “Middle” level. Good thing they distract me with these odd undead witch hands pushing through a bed of charcoal.
I hope they left the graphic designer an excellent review over at Fiverr.com.
I notice a second bag in the display. Its red colour matches the 200,000 Scoville’s of Habanero intensity. It’s also extremely hot and unsafe for children. The thermometer level is higher than the Jalapeño, but still not at the “Xtreme” level. Do they not have faith in their own products? Am I about to eat some sub-par, mild or medium chip? Given that I’m in Germany, I firmly expect that to be the case.
It’s time to open the package. I’m starting with the Habanero. Having already written off both products I might as well take the one least likely to disappoint.
I pull open the package and stick my nose in to get a pleasant smell. That’s certainly what I don’t get. How shall I describe this? Perhaps it’s like aged potatoes, or something else old, maybe a bit of wet cardboard. Absolutely no hint of spices or aromatics reaches my nose. The outlook is grim.
One chip fell out, I’ll eat that one.
On the positive front, these are a decent thickness and super crispy. A delightful mouth-pleasing texture.
Unfortunately, the flavour requires a fractional score between 0 and 1 on a scale of 1 to 10. Where did the producer find these terrible potatoes? Or was the sunflower oil rancid? The last ingredient is “natural smoke” — the natural sweet fragrance of burning dog’s hair? No, there’s nothing positive about the flavour.
They are hot. The first chip gets my tongue tingling a bit, but I’m definitely in burning territory by the 10th chip or so. My nose is clearing up, and I feel my head getting slightly warm. Alright, good job Puszta Peppers, you’ve created a product in Germany that is actually hot. Regrettably, hot products don’t survive long here. I wonder if the locals take hot products back to the store and complain.
Of course, there’ll be no tears shed when this product disappears. I don’t need potatoes sourced from an abandoned root cellar and washed in the armpits of an obese man.
I’ve got a headache now as well. Whether it was the ingredients or the emotional trauma, I’m blaming the product. If the Jalapeño should, in an unlikely turn of events, happen to taste better, I’ll update this article. You shouldn’t expect an update.
