Mr Efatima and I did the manly-man bonding thing by choking down a couple of these habanero burgers, billed by the pub’s owner as the world’s hottest. He may be right.
If you can get past the first few bites, it goes pretty easily, because by that point your brain’s ability to comprehend pain has burned out. I’m sure that if the heat hadn’t totally obliterated the flavor, this burger would have tasted wonderful.
Oh, and the evil bastards spiked the ketchup with chipoltes, so seeking relief by shoving a few ketchup-dipped fries in your mouth only exacerbates the heat.
The habanero burger (or hellburger, as we’ve come to call it) is also a gift that keeps on giving. Word of advice to anyone thinking about consuming one of these things: don’t do it the night before a long plane flight. You remember the scene in Alien, where John Hurt is flopping around a tabletop as the chestburster struggles to escape his body? Other than the alien invader being way down in my colon, that was me the entire flight home.
But hey, I got a free bumper sticker out of the deal. W00t!