READING

Eating Chili Peppers

JEREMY MACCLANCY

Jeremy MacClancy is an anthropologist and tutor at Oxford Brookes University in England who has written several scholarly works in the field of anthropology. This essay is taken from his book Consuming Culture: Why You Eat What You Eat (1993). As you read the selection, identify the descriptive words and phrases that convey what it’s like to eat chili peppers.

How come over half of the world’s population have made a powerful chemical irritant the center of their gastronomic lives? How can so many millions stomach chilies?

1

Biting into a tabasco pepper is like aiming a flame-thrower at your parted lips. There might be little reaction at first, but then the burn starts to grow. A few seconds later the chili mush in your mouth reaches critical mass and your palate prepares for liftoff. The message spreads. The sweat glands open, your eyes stream, your nose runs, your stomach warms up, your heart accelerates, and your lungs breathe faster. All this is normal. But bite off more than your body can take, and you will be left coughing, sneezing, and spitting. Tears stripe your cheeks, and your mouth belches fire like a dragon celebrating its return to life. Eater beware!

2

As a general stimulant, chili is similar to amphetamines — only quicker, cheaper, non-addictive, and beneficial to boot. Employees at the tabasco plant in Louisiana rarely complain of coughs, hay fever, or sinusitis. (Recent evidence, however, suggests that too many chilies can bring on stomach cancer.) Over the centuries, people have used hot peppers as a folk medicine to treat sore throats or inflamed gums, to relieve respiratory distress, and to ease gastritis induced by alcoholism. For aching muscles and tendons, a chili plaster is more effective than one of mustard, with the added advantage that it does not blister the skin. But people do not eat tabasco, jalapeno, or cayenne peppers because of their pharmacological side-effects. They eat them for the taste — different varieties have different flavors — and for the fire they give off. In other words, they go for the burn.

3

Eating chilies makes for exciting times: the thrill of anticipation, the extremity of the flames, and then the slow descent back to normality. This is a benign form of masochism, like going to a horror movie, riding a roller coaster, or stepping into a cold bath after a sauna. The body flashes danger signals, but the brain knows the threat is not too great. Aficionados, self-absorbed in their burning passion, know exactly how to pace their whole chili eating so that the flames are maintained at a steady maximum. Wrenched out of normal routines by the continuing assault on their mouths, they concentrate on the sensation and ignore almost everything else. They play with fire and just ride the burn, like experienced surfers cresting along a wave. For them, without hot peppers, food would lose its zest and their days would seem too dull. A cheap, legal thrill, chili is the spice of their life.

4

In the rural areas of Mexico, men can turn their chili habit into a contest of strength by seeing who can stomach the most hot peppers in a set time. This gastronomic test, however, is not used as a way to prove one’s machismo, for women can play the game as well. In this context, chilies are a non-sexist form of acquired love for those with strong hearts and fiery passions — a steady source of hot sauce for their lives.

5

The enjoyable sensations of a running nose, crying eyes, and dragon-like mouth belching flames are clearly not for the timorous.

6

More tabasco, anyone?

7