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.
Showing posts with label scotch bonnet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label scotch bonnet. Show all posts
Saturday, 21 May 2011
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.
Tuesday, 13 July 2010
Encona Hot Pepper Sauce
After kicking off with a disappointing show by Dilita, I thought I'd compensate with one of my long-time favourites: Encona. Apparently the full title of this little number is "Encona West Indian Original Hot Pepper Sauce", but it'll always be "Encona" to me. While I'm pleased to say that it's been gaining popularity (along with other "world cuisine" brands) in recent years, Encona has a long pedigree in the Afro-Caribbean community, with it's maker Enco going back to the 1930's. Enco's recent expansion has probably been driven by it's 2007 takeover by a larger Caribbean food company Grace; the takeover was marked by a rebranding of Encona and an expansion of their sauce range.
Encona was my first taste of the super-hot Capsicum chinense chillies (made with Scotch bonnets and Habaneros) and I'd be surprised if I've spent more than a few weeks without a bottle in my kitchen ever since. Also, being the first chilli sauce I really took a liking to, I do slightly regard this as the benchmark by which other sauces should be judged - Darth Naga at the ChileFoundry is a little less impressed. Also, this is definitely an "old fashioned" chilli sauce that was presumably intended to be a replacement for C. chinenese for those who couldn't get a hold of it, rather than a sauce in it's own right. So in many ways, it's kind of fighting different battles to "modern" hot pepper sauce, like comparing cooking chocolate to Dairy Milk. So with that in mind, here's my thoughts.
Tasting Notes: The sauce is bright orange, and has a strong rich smell that's dominated by the chillies, although there's a strong acid bite to it. The spices are definitely there, it's salty and a bit sharp, but they really compliment the Scotch bonnet's characteristic flavour rather than adding to it. To some extent that's all there is to this sauce: chillies with preservatives like salt and vinegar, so it probably loses on complexity. It has plenty of texture to it, with lots of chilli mash in there - although this is a downside if you buy the squeezy bottle, as it frequently jams the rubber nozzle - there's a knack to getting the amount you want, but be careful when you first use it, or you could end up with your food drenched in it. And you do want to be careful, because it's hot; but unlike other sauces in this heat range, it doesn't compromise on flavour - the rich flavour of the chillies is foremost.
What it's Good For: Would it be trite to say "everything"? Seriously, this is a staple in my kitchen for a reason: it's incredibly versatile. It works well as a table sauce, and can stand up to strong flavours - I find it's great with ketchup on bacon sandwiches. It's also hot enough to use in cooking without getting lost, and gives that lovely habanero flavour to sauces. I've been known to mix it with sour cream to tone down the heat, just to get that lovely chilli taste - and you know you've found a good sauce when you can take the heat out and it's still nice. That said, it has a bit of an acid bite that make it a little unpalatable on it's own, so I do tend to have it in combination with other stuff, unlike more inventive sauces that could stand better on their own.
Final Thoughts: Hot, tasty, versatile, readily available. If you haven't tried it, give it a shot - you might just find you keep a bottle in your kitchen cupboard too. On the downside, though, it really is a bit of a one trick pony: there's not a great deal of artifice here except letting the peppers shine. If this was the only bottle in your kitchen cupboard, it'd be a pretty boring collection, so be prepared to mix it with other stuff to get the best out of it. Still, it is a damn good trick.
The Verdict: My essential chilli sauce.
As mentioned, Encona do have a broad range of other sauces, but on the whole I've found them disappointing and unmemorable compared to the "original". At some point I might get round to doing the others, but don't hold your breath.
Encona was my first taste of the super-hot Capsicum chinense chillies (made with Scotch bonnets and Habaneros) and I'd be surprised if I've spent more than a few weeks without a bottle in my kitchen ever since. Also, being the first chilli sauce I really took a liking to, I do slightly regard this as the benchmark by which other sauces should be judged - Darth Naga at the ChileFoundry is a little less impressed. Also, this is definitely an "old fashioned" chilli sauce that was presumably intended to be a replacement for C. chinenese for those who couldn't get a hold of it, rather than a sauce in it's own right. So in many ways, it's kind of fighting different battles to "modern" hot pepper sauce, like comparing cooking chocolate to Dairy Milk. So with that in mind, here's my thoughts.
Tasting Notes: The sauce is bright orange, and has a strong rich smell that's dominated by the chillies, although there's a strong acid bite to it. The spices are definitely there, it's salty and a bit sharp, but they really compliment the Scotch bonnet's characteristic flavour rather than adding to it. To some extent that's all there is to this sauce: chillies with preservatives like salt and vinegar, so it probably loses on complexity. It has plenty of texture to it, with lots of chilli mash in there - although this is a downside if you buy the squeezy bottle, as it frequently jams the rubber nozzle - there's a knack to getting the amount you want, but be careful when you first use it, or you could end up with your food drenched in it. And you do want to be careful, because it's hot; but unlike other sauces in this heat range, it doesn't compromise on flavour - the rich flavour of the chillies is foremost.
What it's Good For: Would it be trite to say "everything"? Seriously, this is a staple in my kitchen for a reason: it's incredibly versatile. It works well as a table sauce, and can stand up to strong flavours - I find it's great with ketchup on bacon sandwiches. It's also hot enough to use in cooking without getting lost, and gives that lovely habanero flavour to sauces. I've been known to mix it with sour cream to tone down the heat, just to get that lovely chilli taste - and you know you've found a good sauce when you can take the heat out and it's still nice. That said, it has a bit of an acid bite that make it a little unpalatable on it's own, so I do tend to have it in combination with other stuff, unlike more inventive sauces that could stand better on their own.
Final Thoughts: Hot, tasty, versatile, readily available. If you haven't tried it, give it a shot - you might just find you keep a bottle in your kitchen cupboard too. On the downside, though, it really is a bit of a one trick pony: there's not a great deal of artifice here except letting the peppers shine. If this was the only bottle in your kitchen cupboard, it'd be a pretty boring collection, so be prepared to mix it with other stuff to get the best out of it. Still, it is a damn good trick.
The Verdict: My essential chilli sauce.
As mentioned, Encona do have a broad range of other sauces, but on the whole I've found them disappointing and unmemorable compared to the "original". At some point I might get round to doing the others, but don't hold your breath.
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