Nando's is a brand that needs no introduction, but I'm going to take a stab at giving it one anyway. A chicken restaurant specialising in Portuguese/Mozambican cuisine (well... okay, maybe cuisine is too strong a word), it's been one of my favourite chain restaurants for a long time. Given that it is basically a glorified fast-food joint - except it serves marinated chicken instead of burgers - it stood out to me in my student days for one important reason: they provided you with, and invited you to make wholesome use of, very large bottles of chilli sauce of varying heats and flavours. I used to have a competition with a regular companion at the chilli-fest to see if we could completely finish an entire bottle in one sitting.
Nando's, being a chain and with a keen eye for marketing (garnering criticism for some incendiary advertising in South Africa), have of course been selling Nando's chilli sauces in supermarkets for years. Unfortunately, a combination of tiny bottle sizes and a slightly different recipe (presumably designed to improve the shelf life - the restaurant sauces don't stick around long, especially with diners like me around) meant that I'd never taken to them, not because I didn't like them, but because it always reminded that I wasn't able to slather my dinner in the stuff as I could at the restaurant. I was occasionally tempted into trying a reasonably sized bottle of the marinade, but being a marinade rather than a table sauce, it was never really up to much.
Fast forward to about a year ago, and I spotted two "special edition" style sauces (in a large Asda, as it happens, although you can also buy them through the Nando's website). Transfixed by what appeared to be a generous portion (a whole 250ml!) of what promised to be a slightly special sauce, I had to buy both of them.
And ate all the way through the bottle without reviewing them.
Luckily, I've managed to get my mitts on a second set of bottles... and very nearly haven't gotten round to writing up a review again, so I guess I'd better use the last few drops to review the Nando's Bushveld Braai peri-peri sauce. Bushveld is a woodland region in Southern Africa, at the corners of South Africa, Botswana and Zimbabwe, and a Braai is a sort of Afrikaans barbecue.
Tasting Notes: The sauce, like many Nando's sauces, is runny but textured. Less usual are the occasional chunks of what appear to be green pepper (from reading the label). The smell is rich and tangy, with an edge of garlic and tomato. The flavour is surprisingly sweet, almost as sweet as a thai sweet chilli dipping sauce, but with that lovely rich, peri-peri flavour.
What it's Good For: This is a touch tricky, because the sweetness probably rules out a few obvious savoury dishes. Sauce this good is also completely wasted when added to another sauce (such as for pasta). It is pretty similar to traditional barebcue sauce with it's rich sweetness and piquancy (although it's really a different beast, since it doesn't have the dark molasses flavour of a BBQ sauce). It'd go well as a dip, or (like the label suggests) a topping for meat or sausages. It also goes well on cheese-on-toast, as long as the cheese is fairly mild.
Final Thoughts: This is a lovely stand-alone sauce, and along with it's partner (review pending!), I rate it very highly indeed. I wish it was more widely available, I'd take every opportunity to buy a bottle!
The Verdict: An unusual, delicious, Nando's-y twist on barbecue sauce.
Wednesday, 21 December 2011
Saturday, 21 May 2011
Original Juan's Pain Is Good Garlic Style
So in my mad rush to make up for the months without posting, I'm going to charge on and post a third review in twenty four hours - the long awaited review for Original Juan's Pain is Good Garlic Style Sauce. Original Juan are a large umbrella group who are also responsible for a line of extract sauces including Da' Bomb, which I have a couple of interesting anecdotes relating to. Another time perhaps.
The Pain is Good brand takes a different tack from extract sauces. It's all made from natural ingredients, and with it's brown paper-y label for it's hip-flask style bottle, it's going for the ol' fashioned quality direction. Nevertheless, with a big pile of Habaneros right at the top of the ingredients list, it still promises quite a punch. I chose the garlic version mostly out of curiosity; for some reason I've always thought of "chilli and garlic" sauces as being the mild variety of sauces, so I was interested at the idea that one would be placed squarely in the "hot" end. (The Pain is Good brand also has a "mild" end, although I can only assume that should be considered a relative term).
Tasting Notes: The sauce is thick and chunky, with plenty of pepper mash and coarsely chopped garlic in there. A sniff gives you a full noseful of that gorgeous smokey Habanero flavour, with the garlic a relatively subtle flavour to it. I remember on my first smell (way back in December) being surprised that there was almost no acid bite to this sauce. This is an interesting approach; vinegar is a staple in many chilli sauces simply as preservative, so it's something of a surprise to come across one without it. Tasting it, again I'm struck by a relative lack of taste in the first instance; there is a little citrus and spice in there but they're not strong. That lovely habanero flavour takes pride of place, supplemented nicely by the smoked garlic. The heat takes a while to kick in, but when it does it really ramps up and leaves you with a nice long, lingering burn, along with that great Habanero taste.
What it's Good For: Well, that's the trick really isn't it? I'm on the verge of calling this a bottle of hot pepper mash rather than a sauce per se, and that's certainly why it's lasted so long (other sauces I'm this effusive about don't tend to hang around, and pretty much everything else I reviewed since Christmas is long since polished off!) Use this as a topping for cheese on toast or pizza? Are you MAD? It tastes so nice though that it's a crying shame to cook out it's lovely flavours - my recommendation is to stir it into freshly cooked pasta sauce just before (or after) serving. Fill out the flavours it lacks with tomatoes, and there's a really kicking meal in here.
Final Thoughts: I really do like this sauce. Of those I've reviewed so far, it probably ranks top - but sadly, it really is let down by the fact that it simply doesn't stand on it's own, and that's something that's actually quite important for me.
The Verdict: a rare treat, but worth every penny.
The Pain is Good brand takes a different tack from extract sauces. It's all made from natural ingredients, and with it's brown paper-y label for it's hip-flask style bottle, it's going for the ol' fashioned quality direction. Nevertheless, with a big pile of Habaneros right at the top of the ingredients list, it still promises quite a punch. I chose the garlic version mostly out of curiosity; for some reason I've always thought of "chilli and garlic" sauces as being the mild variety of sauces, so I was interested at the idea that one would be placed squarely in the "hot" end. (The Pain is Good brand also has a "mild" end, although I can only assume that should be considered a relative term).
Tasting Notes: The sauce is thick and chunky, with plenty of pepper mash and coarsely chopped garlic in there. A sniff gives you a full noseful of that gorgeous smokey Habanero flavour, with the garlic a relatively subtle flavour to it. I remember on my first smell (way back in December) being surprised that there was almost no acid bite to this sauce. This is an interesting approach; vinegar is a staple in many chilli sauces simply as preservative, so it's something of a surprise to come across one without it. Tasting it, again I'm struck by a relative lack of taste in the first instance; there is a little citrus and spice in there but they're not strong. That lovely habanero flavour takes pride of place, supplemented nicely by the smoked garlic. The heat takes a while to kick in, but when it does it really ramps up and leaves you with a nice long, lingering burn, along with that great Habanero taste.
What it's Good For: Well, that's the trick really isn't it? I'm on the verge of calling this a bottle of hot pepper mash rather than a sauce per se, and that's certainly why it's lasted so long (other sauces I'm this effusive about don't tend to hang around, and pretty much everything else I reviewed since Christmas is long since polished off!) Use this as a topping for cheese on toast or pizza? Are you MAD? It tastes so nice though that it's a crying shame to cook out it's lovely flavours - my recommendation is to stir it into freshly cooked pasta sauce just before (or after) serving. Fill out the flavours it lacks with tomatoes, and there's a really kicking meal in here.
Final Thoughts: I really do like this sauce. Of those I've reviewed so far, it probably ranks top - but sadly, it really is let down by the fact that it simply doesn't stand on it's own, and that's something that's actually quite important for me.
The Verdict: a rare treat, but worth every penny.
Scomac Hot Scotch Bonnet Sauce
This is actually an interesting variation from the normal run-of-the-mill sauces that I do, since it's made with a vague attempt at a Scottish twist. Scomac aren't really a name I'd associate with chilli sauces, or sauces of any kind (or... well, anything else for that matter). As far as I can make out they sell packaged seafood and derivative Whisky products - in fact, I strongly suspect the decision to use Scotch Bonnets was driven almost entirely from a desire to make a pun on Scotch Whisky.
Still, my curiosity was piqued, so when I spotted it in a local shop I bought a bottle. I'm a little at a loss as to how to introduce it, because I've not really come across a chilli sauce like this before. It's difficult to avoid comparisons to that great provender of South Yorkshire, Henderson's Relish (roughly similar to Worcestershire Sauce, for those of you who sadly come from other parts of the UK - for those further afield... uh... kind of like sweet and spicy soy sauce?). Like Henderson's (and unlike Worcestershire), it's vegetarian, and... well, I'm not sure I can say much else without breaking into the tasting notes, so we'll crack right on.
Tasting Notes: If you've ever encountered Henderson's Relish, you'll have a good idea what this sauce is like. Watery and pungent, a rich dark brown, it has a sweet, slightly spicy smell to it. Vinegar features heavily, and I think there's some cinnamon in there too. It does however have some texture to it; finely ground spices suspended in the liquid (so remember to give it a good shake before you use it!). Flavour wise it is quite close to Henderson's or Worcestershire sauce, but has a twist of something a bit more exotic to it. Oddly enough, it's not the chilli, but the other spices that give it that touch, and the effect is oddly reminiscent of Chilli Pepper Company's The Beast. The chilli burn is pleasant, but seems to be an afterthought, and there's no chilli flavour at all. Still, this isn't a bad thing, as the sauce has flavour in spades. It has a very slightly bitter aftertaste, a consequence of being heavily laden with spices, but feels a lot less raw than the CPC sauces did. Allegedly the sauce is made with Scotch Whisky and Scotch Whisky Vinegar (both of which I heartily approve of), but if I didn't know they were there I wouldn't be any the wiser. I think I can just detect notes of the Whiskey in the aftertaste, but only because I know it's there.
What it's Good For: Cooking. Pretty much anything you would use Henderson's or Worcestershire for, this sauce will go nicely and add a nice twist. I can see it'd also be a very nice addition to a vinaigrette. I'd be tempted to use it as a condiment (as I do with both tabasco and Henderson's), but it might be a touch too strong for that. You could use a few drops as a topping as well, but it is very runny, so only really worth it as a drop or two.
Final Thoughts: This sauce screams "gimmick". As noted above, the heat is non-specific, which slightly begs the question for why it's named after a specific breed (Scotch bonnets) if it's not either going to showcase their particular flavour, or make better use of their prodigious heat. The answer is simply because they have the word "Scotch" in the name, and I'd go further to say that this is the sole reason they even considered making a hot sauce in the first place. That's not to say that it's bad - it's actually a very nice sauce, and not a style I've ever come across before. But as is the way of gimmicks, I suspect it will fade away and never be seen again.
The Verdict: Surprisingly good condiment-style sauce, but not enough in the way of chilli. Or Whisky, for that matter.
Still, my curiosity was piqued, so when I spotted it in a local shop I bought a bottle. I'm a little at a loss as to how to introduce it, because I've not really come across a chilli sauce like this before. It's difficult to avoid comparisons to that great provender of South Yorkshire, Henderson's Relish (roughly similar to Worcestershire Sauce, for those of you who sadly come from other parts of the UK - for those further afield... uh... kind of like sweet and spicy soy sauce?). Like Henderson's (and unlike Worcestershire), it's vegetarian, and... well, I'm not sure I can say much else without breaking into the tasting notes, so we'll crack right on.
Tasting Notes: If you've ever encountered Henderson's Relish, you'll have a good idea what this sauce is like. Watery and pungent, a rich dark brown, it has a sweet, slightly spicy smell to it. Vinegar features heavily, and I think there's some cinnamon in there too. It does however have some texture to it; finely ground spices suspended in the liquid (so remember to give it a good shake before you use it!). Flavour wise it is quite close to Henderson's or Worcestershire sauce, but has a twist of something a bit more exotic to it. Oddly enough, it's not the chilli, but the other spices that give it that touch, and the effect is oddly reminiscent of Chilli Pepper Company's The Beast. The chilli burn is pleasant, but seems to be an afterthought, and there's no chilli flavour at all. Still, this isn't a bad thing, as the sauce has flavour in spades. It has a very slightly bitter aftertaste, a consequence of being heavily laden with spices, but feels a lot less raw than the CPC sauces did. Allegedly the sauce is made with Scotch Whisky and Scotch Whisky Vinegar (both of which I heartily approve of), but if I didn't know they were there I wouldn't be any the wiser. I think I can just detect notes of the Whiskey in the aftertaste, but only because I know it's there.
What it's Good For: Cooking. Pretty much anything you would use Henderson's or Worcestershire for, this sauce will go nicely and add a nice twist. I can see it'd also be a very nice addition to a vinaigrette. I'd be tempted to use it as a condiment (as I do with both tabasco and Henderson's), but it might be a touch too strong for that. You could use a few drops as a topping as well, but it is very runny, so only really worth it as a drop or two.
Final Thoughts: This sauce screams "gimmick". As noted above, the heat is non-specific, which slightly begs the question for why it's named after a specific breed (Scotch bonnets) if it's not either going to showcase their particular flavour, or make better use of their prodigious heat. The answer is simply because they have the word "Scotch" in the name, and I'd go further to say that this is the sole reason they even considered making a hot sauce in the first place. That's not to say that it's bad - it's actually a very nice sauce, and not a style I've ever come across before. But as is the way of gimmicks, I suspect it will fade away and never be seen again.
The Verdict: Surprisingly good condiment-style sauce, but not enough in the way of chilli. Or Whisky, for that matter.
Sainsbury's Peri Peri Sauce
Holy crap, it's May and I haven't written one of these in a third of a year - disgraceful! But with some of my "real" life commitments beginning to recede, I'm going to see if I can't write a handful of sauce revies, since I have a small pile still pending. Rest assured I haven't forgotten that bottle of "Pain is Good" sauce, and a review is coming soon, but I thought I would kick off with a quick review of a little bottle of Peri Peri that I got while I was on holiday, since the bottle is about to run out.
It's a supermarket own-brand sauce, which is generally a bit of a demerit, but if anyone can pull it off I have faith in Sainsbury's (I doubt anyone will ever read these, but if by some miracle someone from outside the UK is reading this, Sainsbury's is towards the "posh" end of the supermarket spectrum, generally catering a bit more to the ethical/organic/foodie crowd). Peri-peri is also one of my favourite styles of chilli, thanks to many happy meals at Nando's, but one that seems surprisingly difficult to get right for a bottled sauce. Even Nando's don't manage it particularily well, although there are a couple of harder-to-find manufacturers (such as the excellent Zulu Zulu and Mama Africa's - the latter sadly lacking a UK importer, which explains why nobody near me stocks it any more). Still, from the minimalist labelling I was kind of expecting this to be more like a cooking ingredient rather than something I'd like to chow into on it's own.
Tasting Notes: The sauce is smooth and opaque, and neither too runny or thick. The smell isn't overwhelming, but it there's a hint of some of the spices in it. There's the faintest touch of sharpness, but it doesn't seem like acid (citrus or otherwise) is a strong player in this sauce. The taste itself is pretty subtle and underwhelming, but it does give clear space for the flavour of the peppers - I just wish there was more to it. I also tend to want peri peri sauces to have a bit more citrus to them, and without it this sauce tastes almost floury. The heat comes on slowly, and has a medium burn about expected from a mainstream supermarket product like this.
What it's Good For: I actually struggle to think. It doesn't particularily stand on it's own, and it's flavour is too subtle to be an ingredient. I've been using it as a secondary sauce added to something else on sandwiches and wraps, and even to some leftover rice, but even as a topping it really needs another sauce to fill in where it's flavours are missing. I guess if you're topping something really strong, it might be okay.
Final Thoughts: Style over substance. The more I think about it, the more I think this sauce has been designed to look right, rather than taste right. I'm convinced I can taste the flour that's been used as a thickener, and the flavours are lacklustre and half hearted. It almost has the opposite problem to the Dilita sauce I reviewed last year, and definitely better than some of the other supermarket own-brand chilli sauces I've tried (I'm looking at you, Tesco).
The Verdict: A poor show, but probably better than Dilita.
It's a supermarket own-brand sauce, which is generally a bit of a demerit, but if anyone can pull it off I have faith in Sainsbury's (I doubt anyone will ever read these, but if by some miracle someone from outside the UK is reading this, Sainsbury's is towards the "posh" end of the supermarket spectrum, generally catering a bit more to the ethical/organic/foodie crowd). Peri-peri is also one of my favourite styles of chilli, thanks to many happy meals at Nando's, but one that seems surprisingly difficult to get right for a bottled sauce. Even Nando's don't manage it particularily well, although there are a couple of harder-to-find manufacturers (such as the excellent Zulu Zulu and Mama Africa's - the latter sadly lacking a UK importer, which explains why nobody near me stocks it any more). Still, from the minimalist labelling I was kind of expecting this to be more like a cooking ingredient rather than something I'd like to chow into on it's own.
Tasting Notes: The sauce is smooth and opaque, and neither too runny or thick. The smell isn't overwhelming, but it there's a hint of some of the spices in it. There's the faintest touch of sharpness, but it doesn't seem like acid (citrus or otherwise) is a strong player in this sauce. The taste itself is pretty subtle and underwhelming, but it does give clear space for the flavour of the peppers - I just wish there was more to it. I also tend to want peri peri sauces to have a bit more citrus to them, and without it this sauce tastes almost floury. The heat comes on slowly, and has a medium burn about expected from a mainstream supermarket product like this.
What it's Good For: I actually struggle to think. It doesn't particularily stand on it's own, and it's flavour is too subtle to be an ingredient. I've been using it as a secondary sauce added to something else on sandwiches and wraps, and even to some leftover rice, but even as a topping it really needs another sauce to fill in where it's flavours are missing. I guess if you're topping something really strong, it might be okay.
Final Thoughts: Style over substance. The more I think about it, the more I think this sauce has been designed to look right, rather than taste right. I'm convinced I can taste the flour that's been used as a thickener, and the flavours are lacklustre and half hearted. It almost has the opposite problem to the Dilita sauce I reviewed last year, and definitely better than some of the other supermarket own-brand chilli sauces I've tried (I'm looking at you, Tesco).
The Verdict: A poor show, but probably better than Dilita.
Saturday, 29 January 2011
Cöttáge Dêlĭght Speciality Foods Hot Sauce Three-Pack
So, it's the end of January and Christmas is a fading memory - I should really be getting around to reviewing my Christmas Loot. I have a couple of nice new chilli sauces to write about, specifically my first try of a "Pain is Good" sauce, and finding a type of Tabasco I hadn't tried before has prompted me to do a quick survey of the Tabasco family, which I'll hopefully get round to before all the bottles are empty. This review, however, is a triple bill of sauces that I got twice as a gift from two separate people. Luckily, they're yummy enough that I'm not complaining, and was quite pleased that I've been able to munch through them at a steady pace, and still had the second set of bottles available for this review. What are these sauces? The Cottage Delight Speciality Foods "Hot Sauces" three-pack.
The pack contains a neat little traffic-light "mild, medium and hot" sampling (or rather, "Hot and Sweet", "Very Hot", and "Seriously Hot" - but as a purveyor of mainly non-spicy food products, such labels mean very little). The green one is a "Mexican Hot & Sweet Jalapeño Sauce", the yellow a "Very Hot Cajun Sauce" which seems to be a nice mustard-based sauce pepped up with some C. chinense, and the "Seriously Hot Caribbean Sauce" which seems to be a vehicle for Scotch Bonnet's and Habanero's, and looks suspiciously like Encona's famed Scotch Bonnet sauce.
Before we continue, I just want to flag up something which my pedantic side noted and has been triumphantly crowing over Cottage Delight for since I got the sauces. While (gratefully) none of the sauce titles include the word "Habanero", in all the ingredient lists and descriptions they consistently misspell the most beloved of C. chinense peppers as "Habañero". This is the most common example of a mistake called a hyperforeignism, where accents and diacritics are erroneously applied to a word of foreign origin. The tilde (that little squiggly line, which is correctly applied in Jalapeño) denotes that the "n" sound is pronounced with a "ny" sound (ha-la-pen-yo*). There is, however, no tilde in Habanero, and (apparently) it doesn't even make sense for there to be one there anyway (although I don't speak Spanish, so I can't confirm that). For this reason, I am going to bask in my smug superiority and relentlessly mock this otherwise laudable food company by spelling their name "Cöttáge Dêlĭght" for the rest of this review.
Tasting Notes: All three of these sauces have a thick-but-runny consistency, with shreds of fruit and spices in them. As a fan of runny liquid sauces like Tabasco, or the ones from the South Devon Chilli Farm, this is a little offputting - especially in the Jalapeño sauce, which is clear and smooth and... well, to my thinking, wants to be a lot runnier than it is. It has been thickened with Xantham gum to make it almost have the consistency of a glaze, or possibly a Thai sweet chilli dipping sauce (which, incidentally, is a style of sauce I'm not over thrilled with in general). Perhaps that makes it more useful in the kitchen - it's certainly a lot less likely to run off whatever surface you pour it on, so it probably copes better with a sandwich that a runny sauce would - but if you're dashing it onto something like tabasco it doesn't mix or spread effectively. The smell is quite mild, no overpowering vinegar smell, and there are notes of the rich jalapeño chilli in there. As the name suggests, this is a quite sweet sauce, and the flavours balance quite well with a nice warm glow. Interestingly, there's a detectable trace of black pepper in there which is a nice touch.
Next up is the cajun sauce. As an opaque mustard-yellow sauce, the thickness seems much more appropriate here, but at this point it makes it a bit difficult to pour. These seem to be 60ml "taster" bottles, so a larger bottle might solve that. The smell has a lovely sweet American mustard tone that's also forward in the flavour. The chilli's come in last, but the chinense chillis are definitely there in the aftertaste, and leave a pleasant but not overwhelming warmth as they pass. It might just be my deadened tongue, but I actually don't taste that much difference between the "Very Hot" Cajun and the merely "Hot" mexican. It is a touch hotter, but I doubt I'd have been able to tell if I wasn't told beforehand.
Lastly, the Caribbean sauce. It's really difficult not to make comparisons with Encona here, since the sauces are so similar. In fact, comparing the ingredients list, I find that they're the same - right down to the proportion of pepper mash in each (64%). Still, they are slightly different sauces - the Encona is slightly more opaque, and the spices are a touch richer in the Cöttáge Dêlĭght sauce - but you'd be hard pressed to tell them apart unless you were sampling them back to back (like I just did. Om nom nom). Not that this is a bad thing, as such - Encona is a firm favourite of mine. But I don't need to track down a delicatessen and pay through the nose to buy Encona.
What's it Good For
The first two of these are lovely rich sauces with quite complex flavours that I think work best as "topping" sauces for pepping up something with a milder flavour, like a ham sandwich. Their thickness makes them better for toppings rather than as condiments (like Tabasco), and the complexity would make them a waste to use in cooking. Both of them would make quite nice dipping sauces, although if you want to do this go for the larger bottles (Cöttáge Dêlĭght sell them individually at 220ml). While I've acquired the taste for Encona more or less on it's own or as a topping, and so will happily munch on the Caribbean Hab and Bonnet sauce in the same way, the salt-heavy flavour probably lends itself better to use as a cooking ingredient.
Final Thoughts
I'm actually really torn as to which of the milder sauces I prefer. They both have a lot of really nice flavour going for them, and have new and interesting aspects that I don't often find the "mainstream" sauces. I'd like to be a bit more generous with both of them, but with such small bottles I could quite easily polish them off in a single serving. I'm particularily pleased with the Jalapeño sauce, which has an interesting combination of lovely flavours. I have once before had a similar mustard-style sauce as the Cajun (and other sauces in this style certainly exist) but I haven't tried one in years, and it's a welcome try of something new. It's hard not to be a little disappointed with the Caribbean sauce which is (to all intents and purposes) Encona - of course it does what it does perfectly well, I was hoping for something a touch more original (and it makes me wonder whether the Jalapeño sauce, which I'm so impressed with about it's original, might be similarily stealing a recipe from something I haven't tried yet).
I'm not necessarily convinced by the names either - Jalapeño's are certainly mexican, although the "Mexican Inspired" recipe seems to have been anglicised (black pepper, while not unheard of, is not a common spice in Mexican or even in "Tex-Mex" cuisine). To great effect, I should add, but still. Both the "Cajun" and "Caribbean" sauces claim to be "West Indian inspired", and while the West Indes is pretty much synonymous with the Caribbean, I'm struggling to link Louisiana's Cajun populace to it. Still, this is just nitpicking over what are really nice sauces (I'm probably being extra harsh about a mild marketing gimmick because of the whole "Habañero" thing).
The Verdict: Worth a try if you can find it. Better still, convince someone to get you some for Christmas!
* if your ordering them from a certain purveyor of pizza's Sheffield that shall remain nameless, Cha-la-pee-no is more likely to be understood.
The pack contains a neat little traffic-light "mild, medium and hot" sampling (or rather, "Hot and Sweet", "Very Hot", and "Seriously Hot" - but as a purveyor of mainly non-spicy food products, such labels mean very little). The green one is a "Mexican Hot & Sweet Jalapeño Sauce", the yellow a "Very Hot Cajun Sauce" which seems to be a nice mustard-based sauce pepped up with some C. chinense, and the "Seriously Hot Caribbean Sauce" which seems to be a vehicle for Scotch Bonnet's and Habanero's, and looks suspiciously like Encona's famed Scotch Bonnet sauce.
Before we continue, I just want to flag up something which my pedantic side noted and has been triumphantly crowing over Cottage Delight for since I got the sauces. While (gratefully) none of the sauce titles include the word "Habanero", in all the ingredient lists and descriptions they consistently misspell the most beloved of C. chinense peppers as "Habañero". This is the most common example of a mistake called a hyperforeignism, where accents and diacritics are erroneously applied to a word of foreign origin. The tilde (that little squiggly line, which is correctly applied in Jalapeño) denotes that the "n" sound is pronounced with a "ny" sound (ha-la-pen-yo*). There is, however, no tilde in Habanero, and (apparently) it doesn't even make sense for there to be one there anyway (although I don't speak Spanish, so I can't confirm that). For this reason, I am going to bask in my smug superiority and relentlessly mock this otherwise laudable food company by spelling their name "Cöttáge Dêlĭght" for the rest of this review.
Tasting Notes: All three of these sauces have a thick-but-runny consistency, with shreds of fruit and spices in them. As a fan of runny liquid sauces like Tabasco, or the ones from the South Devon Chilli Farm, this is a little offputting - especially in the Jalapeño sauce, which is clear and smooth and... well, to my thinking, wants to be a lot runnier than it is. It has been thickened with Xantham gum to make it almost have the consistency of a glaze, or possibly a Thai sweet chilli dipping sauce (which, incidentally, is a style of sauce I'm not over thrilled with in general). Perhaps that makes it more useful in the kitchen - it's certainly a lot less likely to run off whatever surface you pour it on, so it probably copes better with a sandwich that a runny sauce would - but if you're dashing it onto something like tabasco it doesn't mix or spread effectively. The smell is quite mild, no overpowering vinegar smell, and there are notes of the rich jalapeño chilli in there. As the name suggests, this is a quite sweet sauce, and the flavours balance quite well with a nice warm glow. Interestingly, there's a detectable trace of black pepper in there which is a nice touch.
Next up is the cajun sauce. As an opaque mustard-yellow sauce, the thickness seems much more appropriate here, but at this point it makes it a bit difficult to pour. These seem to be 60ml "taster" bottles, so a larger bottle might solve that. The smell has a lovely sweet American mustard tone that's also forward in the flavour. The chilli's come in last, but the chinense chillis are definitely there in the aftertaste, and leave a pleasant but not overwhelming warmth as they pass. It might just be my deadened tongue, but I actually don't taste that much difference between the "Very Hot" Cajun and the merely "Hot" mexican. It is a touch hotter, but I doubt I'd have been able to tell if I wasn't told beforehand.
Lastly, the Caribbean sauce. It's really difficult not to make comparisons with Encona here, since the sauces are so similar. In fact, comparing the ingredients list, I find that they're the same - right down to the proportion of pepper mash in each (64%). Still, they are slightly different sauces - the Encona is slightly more opaque, and the spices are a touch richer in the Cöttáge Dêlĭght sauce - but you'd be hard pressed to tell them apart unless you were sampling them back to back (like I just did. Om nom nom). Not that this is a bad thing, as such - Encona is a firm favourite of mine. But I don't need to track down a delicatessen and pay through the nose to buy Encona.
What's it Good For
The first two of these are lovely rich sauces with quite complex flavours that I think work best as "topping" sauces for pepping up something with a milder flavour, like a ham sandwich. Their thickness makes them better for toppings rather than as condiments (like Tabasco), and the complexity would make them a waste to use in cooking. Both of them would make quite nice dipping sauces, although if you want to do this go for the larger bottles (Cöttáge Dêlĭght sell them individually at 220ml). While I've acquired the taste for Encona more or less on it's own or as a topping, and so will happily munch on the Caribbean Hab and Bonnet sauce in the same way, the salt-heavy flavour probably lends itself better to use as a cooking ingredient.
Final Thoughts
I'm actually really torn as to which of the milder sauces I prefer. They both have a lot of really nice flavour going for them, and have new and interesting aspects that I don't often find the "mainstream" sauces. I'd like to be a bit more generous with both of them, but with such small bottles I could quite easily polish them off in a single serving. I'm particularily pleased with the Jalapeño sauce, which has an interesting combination of lovely flavours. I have once before had a similar mustard-style sauce as the Cajun (and other sauces in this style certainly exist) but I haven't tried one in years, and it's a welcome try of something new. It's hard not to be a little disappointed with the Caribbean sauce which is (to all intents and purposes) Encona - of course it does what it does perfectly well, I was hoping for something a touch more original (and it makes me wonder whether the Jalapeño sauce, which I'm so impressed with about it's original, might be similarily stealing a recipe from something I haven't tried yet).
I'm not necessarily convinced by the names either - Jalapeño's are certainly mexican, although the "Mexican Inspired" recipe seems to have been anglicised (black pepper, while not unheard of, is not a common spice in Mexican or even in "Tex-Mex" cuisine). To great effect, I should add, but still. Both the "Cajun" and "Caribbean" sauces claim to be "West Indian inspired", and while the West Indes is pretty much synonymous with the Caribbean, I'm struggling to link Louisiana's Cajun populace to it. Still, this is just nitpicking over what are really nice sauces (I'm probably being extra harsh about a mild marketing gimmick because of the whole "Habañero" thing).
The Verdict: Worth a try if you can find it. Better still, convince someone to get you some for Christmas!
* if your ordering them from a certain purveyor of pizza's Sheffield that shall remain nameless, Cha-la-pee-no is more likely to be understood.
Thursday, 25 November 2010
The Chilli Pepper Company Part II: The Beast
Being an economic type, when I decided to avail myself of The Chilli Pepper Company's Naga Viper/Terminator sauce, I felt honour bound to buy something else to justify the packaging and transport costs. Scanning their extensive list, I picked one more or less at random: "The Beast" (reviewed by Darth Naga at the ChileFoundry here).
I mentioned in the last post about how I'm not overly fond of the overly bloke-y trend in naming chilli sauces - at some point I might get round to putting together a commentary post on the issue - and this sauce (and many of the others like it) come across as kinda cheesy. Still, it's not about the name, it's about the sauce.
It's also worth highlighting that the CPC a company that seems to principally grow many varieties of chillis (check out their awesome array of seeds and powders for sale), and has been placing more and more emphasis on producing really hot chilli sauces without using extract (a la the super-hot ranges from Dave's Gourmet, Blair Lazar and Hot Headz). Their rumoured success in breeding a super-hot variant of Naga (the so-called "Viper") will certainly help them in this endeavour. But how does the Beast weigh up?
Tasting Notes: The first thing that hits me is the sweet, spicy flavour; fruity with a strong cinammon note and a pleasant undercurrent of vinegar. It smells, basically, like a english chutney. The sauce was runnier than I was expecting (given I was expecting chutney after that lovely smell!), but the flavour really doesn't let it down. One of the key ingredients in this sauce is mango, and that really forms the sweet and sour core of the flavour. The spices are strong and pleasant too. One minor gripe is that the flavour is a little raw, but heck, it's a sauce - very few of them stand up well to necking the bottle. The chilli comes in quite late, strong and low, but stays with you.
What's it Good For: It's got a complex, spicy, chutney-ish flavour that would be completely wasted in cooking, so that's out from the start. I've used it on cheese-on-toast, but it'd be worth going for a mild cheese so that you get the most of it's flavour. I've also found it's quite nice added to a simple salad dressing to give it a bit of kick - probably best with something like a balsamic dressing that doesn't have a complex flavour of it's own. Like chutney, it's good on cooked meats and in sandwiches, but for me it suffers for being just a bit too runny. Given it has enough of a flavour to stand on it's own, the best thing I've found for it is leftover boiled rice (probably a bit much to make a whole meal out of, but with a mixed into a tablespoon or so of rice makes a very nice side). It's a versatile condiment, and I'm very sad at how fast I'm getting through it!
Final Thoughts: I really love this sauce. Given it was filler on my order, I'm really pleased at discovering it, and next to the slightly disappointing Terminator/Naga Viper, I'm really happy with it. (May even buy again, if I get the chance!) The only niggle flavour-wise is how raw the vinegar and spices taste. I noticed this about the Terminator too; both sauces leave me with the feeling that these are "home-made" small batch sauces (certainly compared with bigger labels like Blair's or Tabasco). If there were some way to take the edge off it without killing the lovely flavour, this sauce would be more or less perfect.
There is, however, one nagging problem which I really have to flag up. Upon re-reading Darth Naga's take on this excellent sauce from December 2009, I found this:
The Verdict: This is a really great, flavoursome sauce, and definitely worth the postage cost.
I mentioned in the last post about how I'm not overly fond of the overly bloke-y trend in naming chilli sauces - at some point I might get round to putting together a commentary post on the issue - and this sauce (and many of the others like it) come across as kinda cheesy. Still, it's not about the name, it's about the sauce.
It's also worth highlighting that the CPC a company that seems to principally grow many varieties of chillis (check out their awesome array of seeds and powders for sale), and has been placing more and more emphasis on producing really hot chilli sauces without using extract (a la the super-hot ranges from Dave's Gourmet, Blair Lazar and Hot Headz). Their rumoured success in breeding a super-hot variant of Naga (the so-called "Viper") will certainly help them in this endeavour. But how does the Beast weigh up?
Tasting Notes: The first thing that hits me is the sweet, spicy flavour; fruity with a strong cinammon note and a pleasant undercurrent of vinegar. It smells, basically, like a english chutney. The sauce was runnier than I was expecting (given I was expecting chutney after that lovely smell!), but the flavour really doesn't let it down. One of the key ingredients in this sauce is mango, and that really forms the sweet and sour core of the flavour. The spices are strong and pleasant too. One minor gripe is that the flavour is a little raw, but heck, it's a sauce - very few of them stand up well to necking the bottle. The chilli comes in quite late, strong and low, but stays with you.
What's it Good For: It's got a complex, spicy, chutney-ish flavour that would be completely wasted in cooking, so that's out from the start. I've used it on cheese-on-toast, but it'd be worth going for a mild cheese so that you get the most of it's flavour. I've also found it's quite nice added to a simple salad dressing to give it a bit of kick - probably best with something like a balsamic dressing that doesn't have a complex flavour of it's own. Like chutney, it's good on cooked meats and in sandwiches, but for me it suffers for being just a bit too runny. Given it has enough of a flavour to stand on it's own, the best thing I've found for it is leftover boiled rice (probably a bit much to make a whole meal out of, but with a mixed into a tablespoon or so of rice makes a very nice side). It's a versatile condiment, and I'm very sad at how fast I'm getting through it!
Final Thoughts: I really love this sauce. Given it was filler on my order, I'm really pleased at discovering it, and next to the slightly disappointing Terminator/Naga Viper, I'm really happy with it. (May even buy again, if I get the chance!) The only niggle flavour-wise is how raw the vinegar and spices taste. I noticed this about the Terminator too; both sauces leave me with the feeling that these are "home-made" small batch sauces (certainly compared with bigger labels like Blair's or Tabasco). If there were some way to take the edge off it without killing the lovely flavour, this sauce would be more or less perfect.
There is, however, one nagging problem which I really have to flag up. Upon re-reading Darth Naga's take on this excellent sauce from December 2009, I found this:
I undid the bottles cap and held it to my nose [...] Naga. Thats it, seriously! I can just smell pure naga coming from this bottle.I've been sniffing this sauce again for the last half hour, and chilli is definitely not the dominant smell coming off it. This isn't a bad thing, of course - as I've said, I love it - but it's hard to escape the fact that this seems to be a different sauce from the one that D.N. is reviewing. Also, after the stern warnings on the side of the bottle ("Extremely hot... Use where extreme heat and flavour are required" "BEWARE!! Once eaten this will hurt") I have to say I was disappointed by how mild this sauce was. This sauce is probably comparable in heat to Tabasco. At first I thought it might be because I was tasting it straight after this, but subsequent tastings have disabused me of that notion - my bottle of this sauce is just not that hot, despite boasting that it contains "13 fresh Naga Morich per bottle". Again, CPC is primarily a chilli farm with a sideline in making sauces with their produce: I'm not sure if this points to variation in the heat of their Naga's or batch variation between sauces, but it's worth saying that when it comes to heat, your mileage may vary. Caveat emptor and all that. But hey, if all you want is heat, this probably isn't the sauce for you anyway.
The Verdict: This is a really great, flavoursome sauce, and definitely worth the postage cost.
Wednesday, 24 November 2010
The Chilli Pepper Company Part I: The Terminator
I'd like to say that the recent hiatus has been because I was saving myself for something special, but in reality I'm just a massive pile of procrastination. Still, I've eventually succumbed to the tasty delights of an internet chilli sauce order, in the form of two lovely sauces from the Chilli Pepper Company. I confess to being a giant sucker for hype in almost everything that I go after, and after some kerfuffle on the intertubes about a strain of chilli bred specifically for hotness and dubbed the "Naga Viper". Individual peppers are being touted as the hottest on record, hitting 1.3 million scoville's (although the folks at the CPC are cautious about their claims). To put this in perspective, the hottest sauce I own (Da' Bomb's the Final Answer - review forthcoming - which is basically pure extract) only just pips it, racking up 1.5 million SHU's.
The Naga Vipers aren't generally available yet (although chilli veteran Darth Naga from the ChileFoundry scored a couple with horrifying results), but the CPC are making a minimalist chilli sauce made with the Vipers and the current heat record holder, the Bhut Jolokia. As I was going through a periodic extreme heat phase when I saw the ChileFoundry video, I jumped at the chance to grab a bottle of the stuff, which was sadly delayed for almost a month. In that time, the indefatigable Darth Naga not only reviewed the sauce, but managed to convince the CPC to change it's name to reflect the growing internet fame of the superhot Naga Viper chilli. As he remarks, my bottle of "The Terminator" is now limited edition, since the sauce is now simply called "Naga Viper" - however the contents remain the same.
I've been a fan of the "minimalist" sauces for a while now. The Godfather of hot sauces, Tabasco, also has only three ingredients (cayenne peppers, vinegar and salt), and in my opinion still holds it's own against other sauces, but my interest in them was reinvigorated by the South Devon Chilli Farm's impressive range of single variety sauces. For that reason, I had high hopes for this one.
For the record, I prefer "Naga Viper". There's a tendency with hot sauces to give them obnoxiously laddish names, which really puts me off. But I'm not here to review the CPC's branding choices, I'm here to review some chilli sauce. So let's go!
Tasting Notes: Much like Tabasco and the SDCF sauces, this is an incredibly runny sauce, but has a fairly rough chilli mash in it. The nose is chock full of that unique Jolokia smell. Having got my mitts on a few fresh Dorset Naga's from Tesco since I reviewed the Dave's Gourmet Ghost Pepper Sauce, it's interesting to go back and compare the two sauces. The Terminator has a great freshness to it, and really captures the complexity of the Naga flavour, wheras the Dave's Gourmet sauce seems to be trying to shoehorn it into a Habanero-ey flavour. Since the peppers are clearly distinct, and the CPC sauce does more justice to the distinction, I'm inclined to come down on it's side. But then, is the flavour of the raw chilli really that good a thing? I'll confess, I'm slightly coming down on my "Naga's, f*** yeah!" phase and trying to decide what I really make of them. Naga's definitely have a slightly more floral, almost soapy quality to them over other C. chinense varieties, like the Hab's, which is quite pleasing to smell, but the jury's still out on whether it makes for good eatin'. But at any rate, this sauce does what it's supposed to, which is to showcase the fruit's unique flavour. Surprisingly, since vinegar is the only non-chilli ingredient, the sauce doesn't strike me as that sharp. The flavours of the fruit really take the fore in this sauce, and the taste really does do justice to the nose. On the down side, that flavour comes with a strong bitter taste, which rather spoils the effect. But it has to be said, this sutff really does pack a punch - taken neat it will leave a burn in your mouth long after you've swallowed it. In pure kicking power, this one can easily hold it's own against extract sauces.
What's It Good For: Surprisingly, given how hot it is, it seems to lose it's raw killer potency pretty quickly. I suspect drizzling it directly on to your chips might be a bit of overkill, but I've used it in most of the ways I use Tabasco with a fair success; in soups, on pizza, stirred into leftover rice from an indian curry. The floral taste of the Naga's is lovely, although it still has a bit of an acrid tang to it (I'm not sure whether this is the vinegar or an effect of the raw chilli pepper). At any rate, you'll probably only need a dribble of the stuff at a time, and it should last you.
Final Thoughts: Since Naga/Bhut Jolokia/Morich's are the sexy-sexy-hot-hot thing at the moment, I really really want to like them, and this sauce makes a fair stab at presenting the new generation of super-hot-right-off-the-vine chilli's in a simple sauce. But somewhere in me I'm wondering whether I really like the flavour of the Indian C. chinense varieties as much as the richer, darker flavour of Caribbean chilli's like Habanero's. (There's some suggestion that a few interesting varieties from Trinidad are about to make waves, but they haven't made their way into any sauces yet!). Still, it's probably not fair to fault the sauce for the failings of the fruit it's made from. Still, the Terminator/Naga Viper sauce does have some failings. It has upsettingly acrid notes running through it that are sadly quite hard to ignore, and I'm not sure that's just from the shocking heat of it's fruit. With the breeding of a fruit that is apparently four times as hot as Dave's Gourmet Insanity Sauce, and the bottling of a minimal sauce that's squarely in the super-hot category, I can't help thinking that this is a game changer for the super-hot market, with heavily extract-based sauces outclassed by simpler, cheaper, more flavourful sauces. Time will tell.
I made the comparison of these "simple sauces" to Tabasco at the top - well, Tabasco isn't quite as simple as it's ingredients list suggests, being aged in oak to give it a lovely mellow flavour. I really wonder what a gourmet sauce would result if the Naga Viper sauce was treated in such a way; it might well loose it's trademark pungency, but would it smooth out the flaws in it's flavour? We will probably never know.
The Verdict: All in all, this is a damn good Naga sauce, and I'm sure I'll reach the bottom - eventually.
The Naga Vipers aren't generally available yet (although chilli veteran Darth Naga from the ChileFoundry scored a couple with horrifying results), but the CPC are making a minimalist chilli sauce made with the Vipers and the current heat record holder, the Bhut Jolokia. As I was going through a periodic extreme heat phase when I saw the ChileFoundry video, I jumped at the chance to grab a bottle of the stuff, which was sadly delayed for almost a month. In that time, the indefatigable Darth Naga not only reviewed the sauce, but managed to convince the CPC to change it's name to reflect the growing internet fame of the superhot Naga Viper chilli. As he remarks, my bottle of "The Terminator" is now limited edition, since the sauce is now simply called "Naga Viper" - however the contents remain the same.
I've been a fan of the "minimalist" sauces for a while now. The Godfather of hot sauces, Tabasco, also has only three ingredients (cayenne peppers, vinegar and salt), and in my opinion still holds it's own against other sauces, but my interest in them was reinvigorated by the South Devon Chilli Farm's impressive range of single variety sauces. For that reason, I had high hopes for this one.
For the record, I prefer "Naga Viper". There's a tendency with hot sauces to give them obnoxiously laddish names, which really puts me off. But I'm not here to review the CPC's branding choices, I'm here to review some chilli sauce. So let's go!
Tasting Notes: Much like Tabasco and the SDCF sauces, this is an incredibly runny sauce, but has a fairly rough chilli mash in it. The nose is chock full of that unique Jolokia smell. Having got my mitts on a few fresh Dorset Naga's from Tesco since I reviewed the Dave's Gourmet Ghost Pepper Sauce, it's interesting to go back and compare the two sauces. The Terminator has a great freshness to it, and really captures the complexity of the Naga flavour, wheras the Dave's Gourmet sauce seems to be trying to shoehorn it into a Habanero-ey flavour. Since the peppers are clearly distinct, and the CPC sauce does more justice to the distinction, I'm inclined to come down on it's side. But then, is the flavour of the raw chilli really that good a thing? I'll confess, I'm slightly coming down on my "Naga's, f*** yeah!" phase and trying to decide what I really make of them. Naga's definitely have a slightly more floral, almost soapy quality to them over other C. chinense varieties, like the Hab's, which is quite pleasing to smell, but the jury's still out on whether it makes for good eatin'. But at any rate, this sauce does what it's supposed to, which is to showcase the fruit's unique flavour. Surprisingly, since vinegar is the only non-chilli ingredient, the sauce doesn't strike me as that sharp. The flavours of the fruit really take the fore in this sauce, and the taste really does do justice to the nose. On the down side, that flavour comes with a strong bitter taste, which rather spoils the effect. But it has to be said, this sutff really does pack a punch - taken neat it will leave a burn in your mouth long after you've swallowed it. In pure kicking power, this one can easily hold it's own against extract sauces.
What's It Good For: Surprisingly, given how hot it is, it seems to lose it's raw killer potency pretty quickly. I suspect drizzling it directly on to your chips might be a bit of overkill, but I've used it in most of the ways I use Tabasco with a fair success; in soups, on pizza, stirred into leftover rice from an indian curry. The floral taste of the Naga's is lovely, although it still has a bit of an acrid tang to it (I'm not sure whether this is the vinegar or an effect of the raw chilli pepper). At any rate, you'll probably only need a dribble of the stuff at a time, and it should last you.
Final Thoughts: Since Naga/Bhut Jolokia/Morich's are the sexy-sexy-hot-hot thing at the moment, I really really want to like them, and this sauce makes a fair stab at presenting the new generation of super-hot-right-off-the-vine chilli's in a simple sauce. But somewhere in me I'm wondering whether I really like the flavour of the Indian C. chinense varieties as much as the richer, darker flavour of Caribbean chilli's like Habanero's. (There's some suggestion that a few interesting varieties from Trinidad are about to make waves, but they haven't made their way into any sauces yet!). Still, it's probably not fair to fault the sauce for the failings of the fruit it's made from. Still, the Terminator/Naga Viper sauce does have some failings. It has upsettingly acrid notes running through it that are sadly quite hard to ignore, and I'm not sure that's just from the shocking heat of it's fruit. With the breeding of a fruit that is apparently four times as hot as Dave's Gourmet Insanity Sauce, and the bottling of a minimal sauce that's squarely in the super-hot category, I can't help thinking that this is a game changer for the super-hot market, with heavily extract-based sauces outclassed by simpler, cheaper, more flavourful sauces. Time will tell.
I made the comparison of these "simple sauces" to Tabasco at the top - well, Tabasco isn't quite as simple as it's ingredients list suggests, being aged in oak to give it a lovely mellow flavour. I really wonder what a gourmet sauce would result if the Naga Viper sauce was treated in such a way; it might well loose it's trademark pungency, but would it smooth out the flaws in it's flavour? We will probably never know.
The Verdict: All in all, this is a damn good Naga sauce, and I'm sure I'll reach the bottom - eventually.
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