My Guilty Pleasure: Getting Destroyed by Spicy Food

Growing up, I had the diet of a cautious senior. Mayonnaise sandwiches, boiled chicken, and well-done steak. What eventually changed that was a British science fiction show called Red Dwarf, a grungy space comedy about the last man in the universe. The main character, Dave Lister, was everything a nerd like me would think was cool—he was a carefree slob, he had dreadlocks and a Scouse accent, and nearly every meal he ate was chicken vindaloo, served “kamikaze hot.” That show and that dish introduced me to the guilty pleasure that’s equal parts addiction and toxic masculinity—eating the spiciest foods possible. Fast forward a few years and I made my first trip to Lister’s homeland. When I arrived, the only thing on my mind was vindaloo. I went straight to Brick Lane, a street famous for its curry restaurants. I got a pint, some papadams, and the chicken vindaloo with a warning on the menu. It was scorching hot. Hotter than I’d thought food could be. My stomach seized up, and my face poured with sweat. I must have looked like I was giving birth—I don’t know what forced me to finish the meal. It destroyed me. But while there were some dicey moments involving a youth hostel’s shared bathroom, I still recovered enough to hit the pub later that night. When I did, I had an icebreaker to use with people, some with accents just like Lister’s. I learned that spicy foods made you cool, and that for someone with a baby face, eating them was a way to look just a little badass.

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There’s some proper science behind the badassery, and it involves a thing called capsaicin, the main active ingredient in hot peppers. Surprisingly, it can be good for you. Studies show that capsaicin may improve vascular health, reduce chronic pain, and possibly extend your lifespan. Capsaicin-laden foods also give you a runner’s high that makes you want more. That’s because when you consume them, your brain is flooded with endorphins and dopamine, which trigger your brain’s reward centre. The downside is the more you eat, the more you need to eat to get the same effect. And that means your hot sauces need to keep getting hotter. You can see this spicy arms race in food trends. In the past several years, the ultra-spicy Nashville Hot Chicken has burned its way onto menus across North America. There’s also been the rise of Korea’s Buldak Ramen noodles (the hottest variety of which was banned by Denmark for being too hot for human consumption), and the success of the YouTube show Hot Ones, where celebrities struggle through the spiciest wings imaginable. When I was a kid, people considered Tabasco sauce to be spicy, jalapeño peppers to be extreme. Today we’ve gone far past that—from ghost peppers to Pepper X, a hot pepper some 1,000 times spicier than the humble jalapeño. I’ve got a hot sauce filled with Pepper X in my fridge right now, to pep up any meal that doesn’t instantly melt the silverware. I eat this stuff every day, though not without consequences; that hasn’t changed since my first vindaloo. Which begs the question my wife is fond of asking me: “Why are you doing this to yourself?” Look, I come from a family of proud meatheads. We have athletes and coaches, hunters and fishermen. These are rough people, they kill bears, take on the ocean. Me? I type on a MacBook for a living—something that’s a source of constant amusement for them. But when it comes to spicy foods, even they have to admit they can’t compete. Give them a vindaloo and they start sweating and swearing, reaching for water. Put Pepper X in front of them and they shrink up, afraid to try it. I have no desire to play football, chop down a tree, or any of that stuff. But if it has to be a competition, I’m glad I’ve got my mid-grade spicy food addiction as a tool in my back pocket. And if keeping it there means turning every meal into a kamikaze attack on my digestive system, then I say, in my best Scouse accent: count me in. The post My Guilty Pleasure: Getting Destroyed by Spicy Food first appeared on The Walrus.