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.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)