A few weeks ago we were bored at work. When that happens you try to make the world’s spiciest pizza.
The first few attempts I made were limp and uninspired.
Finally Chris, of donut hole fame, alighted upon this recipe:
2 habanero peppers
2 serrano peppers
1 jalapeno pepper
1 tablespoon of cayenne pepper
1 tablespoon of chili powder
a teaspoon of three different hot sauces
a sprinkle of black pepper
top with some cheese
If you do that you end up with a mixture that causes a reaction just from standing near the thing. It’s kind of like being pepper sprayed by the police. This pizza,
was totally inedible. It was so freaking hot that molten lead being poured down your throat would have been preferable. I love spicy food and I could only stomach a quarter inch square of the thing. Chris ate a few pieces and had the equivalent of an acid trip. He spoke for 20 minutes with this lizard,
and still thinks he’s Martin Van Buren sometimes.
A quarter inch? You fucking wuss! Send me some. If not, perhaps I can order one from eBay and have it delivered by a Basque separatist. I heard eBay is very good at that sort of thing.
While I am a consumate pussy with regard to life, the scoville scale of that pizza would have been close to 200-300 million.
A quarter inch was all I could put in my mouth. And that’s not just something I said at a club on Saturday.