peppers - the staff of life (or spicy spicy)

my devotion to spice is nothing short of holy. if we’re talking kitchen essentials, a good spicy pepper easily makes my top three. apart from enjoying the masochistic thrill of popping scotch bonnets like cherries, i’d prefer my favorite dishes doused with a violently hot pepper sauce. my stomach, my heart, my very spirit pant hungrily for a good + spicy pepper sauce. i mean, i wanna be coughing, snorting + crying. if it ain’t spicy spicy, ion’t want it. i have to agree with my dear Vertamae when she said,

You see, I would be nowhere without hot peppers. I mean, I literally have to have them (my cousin Betty once said to me, “I hope you stay healthy, because if a doctor ever tells you you can’t have hot pepper, I’m afraid you’ll die.”)

- Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor, Vertamae Cooks in The Americas’ Family Kitchen

i did a bit of lazy research. a quick google search: why are some people so into spicy foods? apparently, the appeal of spicy food is one of punishment + pain; we are more addicts to the burn than fans of the taste itself. perhaps that is true, as half the fun is certainly searching for the next + even hotter pepper (or sauce). + still, in terms of the African diaspora, there must be more to the story.

Pepper was the staff of life. Indeed, it was that spice of the land. The west coast was called the Pepper Coast in honor of the grains of paradise. A popular proverb said, “The man who eats no pepper is weak”.

- Vertamae Smart-Grosvenor, Vertamae Cooks in The Americas’ Family Kitchen

march 2020, when prepping for the impending COVID-19 lockdown, stocking up on my favorite hot sauce was certainly top of my list. that favorite sauce being the one i first tasted while traveling + dining in St. Croix: Alvin’s Hot Sauce - Island Made.

when we asked for hot sauce while having lunch at Spicy Grill in Fredicksted, out came the Alvin’s alongside some other lesser looking bottles. i was focused on the Alvin’s though, the hottest of our choices; i knew it was going to be good cause it looked similar to my own pepper sauce, the one i had made for my 30th birthday dinner, the one my Nigerian girlfriend christened a proper pepper sauce. “that’s really hot,” the young woman serving my homegirl Ashley + i warned us. “we looooove, love hot stuff. like, the hotter the better,” i gushed as our waitress chuckled unsurely, “okay…”. while we all giggled + talked over each other Ashley tasted less than a dime sized drop of sauce. she promptly stopped talking, sputtering into the recorder’s microphone. “it went right to the back of my throat! i ain’t never taste a hot sauce like that!” i joined in the tasting. “wow… it exploded!” i could find no better word to describe how the flavors burst across the back of the tongue, warmth spreading throughout my chest. i started jabbering excitedly, “that is so good. oh my god, i’m so excited. i can’t breath, i literally can’t breathe.” Ashley laughed, “+ it’s flavorful too.” it was truly delicious + after a few bites, i acquiesced, proceeding to take more daring dips of sauce.

i had also tried another good, flavorful + spicy pepper sauce, one i bought from a vendor at the Ag Fair Farmers’ Market: Joyce’s Real Deal Pepper Sauce. the label rightly bragged “made locally with fresh peppers from my garden”. in checking our bags at the airport, heading home, a customs officer asked what souvenirs i was bringing back from Ag Fair (as i say, Ag Fair is a BIG deal + just about anyone traveling that weekend was coming for that reason). i told him i managed to grab some hot sauce. his face immediately lit up + he exclaimed, “oh! you got some Alvin’s”. “ah, no,” i responded, “i grabbed some from one the farmers at the Fair.” he shook his head disappointed. “but! i did try the Alvin’s. + it’s easily -” “the best,” he interrupted. “yes, definitely my favorite.” “but you didn’t get any!" he promptly told me to hurry through security so i could grab a few bottles from the gift shop. i promised i would try. my homegirl + i were already cutting it close to takeoff time, so i had to be a further disappointment to my new friend; i never made it to the gift shop for a bottle of Alvin’s. but it’s 2020*, + what can’t be ordered online and shipped right to my kitchen door?

we received inklings of a long-term quarantine (although who could have predicted it’d be for nearly a year!) about three weeks after our return from st. croix, i rushed to the nearest health food store, sweeping bottles of vitamin c + kelp into my shopping bag; i had my then-partner + little brother help me load up on greens + beans, water + frozen veggies; + i ordered myself, not one, not two, but FOUR bottles of Alvin’s. i am both proud + slightly embarrassed to say that the bottles didn’t last more than two week. yes, i can go through an entire bottle of pepper sauce in four days. i lie to you not, i once emptied a bottle in less than 24 hours. a third of a bottle on each meal!

why is pepper the staff of life? what is it that i’m craving so desperately? a need for violent warmth. a desire to be filled with fire. i’m still trying to figure that out.

if i’m honest with myself, as i age, my stomach can’t handle the spice like it used to + a night of overindulgence on a particularly spicy pepper is bound to result in a raring furnace in my abdomen. recently i mentioned this small issue to my mother, a nurse + the family’s “Dr. Bonnie”. after listening to me describe the lunch i’d had swimming in fresh jalapeño slices, topped with a bold pepper sauce + the ensuing wildfire in my stomach she simply replied, “well, maybe you should stop eating them.” then she pulled that duh, come on, Khaliah face. like Vertamae, i was horrified. but, she is my mother, so i listened + tried the next few meals, where i would normally add peppers, sans peppers. that lasted all of one day. oh my god, it’s like part of my tongue be missing when there ain’t no spice! shiiiiit. i’ll take the burning, thank you very much.

remember, “the man who eats no pepper is weak”. + i ain’t no weak nigga.

awed by my own stubborn love of peppers induce pains. hungry for more Alvin’s (time for another order!).

*this story was originally written in spring 2020, in the midst of pandemic-induced productivity. it was since lost to a stubbornly evil hard drive, recently recovered by the grace of, shall we say, a desperate prayer to Vertamae’s spirit.