“You’re Mexican- you must like spicy food!”
Written by Rey Arnau Martinez
I left Mexico City in the year 2016 on my 19th birthday to move just around the corner, to Perth, Scotland. While packing a suitcase originally planned for only a year (plot twist, I stayed 8) my mom made sure to carefully wrap inside my socks, a precious bottle of Valentina and Bufalo Hot Sauce. They shared space between precious, melancholic family tokens like family photographs or my grandma’s knitted vests; and survived a risky 12 hour flight to London, an hour flight to Edinburgh, plus an extra 45 minute drive to Perth. Why would my family and I cared so much to travel 8,321km with a condiment?
I like to say to people that Mexican food was NOT originally spicy, and that we always cooked plain food before we added up our extensive choice of salsas, and it was THAT, what foreigners would be scared of. I was lucky enough to never say that in front of another Mexicans for almost a decade, because gals, was I wrong.
In pre Hispanic times, around 64 types of chillies were used for flavour and ancient medicinal purposes, some so highly valued, that it was considered a gift from the gods and only the elders of the tribe were allowed to prepare and consume. After the Spanish conquest, and currently, around 200 creole varieties have been used locally and internationally, whether raw as a garnish, cooked, roasted, fried, in sauces, moles, consommés, stuffed like a Chile en Nogada, and even in desserts and jams.
The modern chokehold that spice has on the country is unmistakable. Every single household will have a bought or homemade salsa; Salsa Macha, Salsa de Chipotle, Salsa Roja, Verde o de Aguacate, some families, even their own blend. Mexican parties or weddings don’t have the traditional dessert table anymore, instead, Brides or Grooms have a big selection of sweets that can be “bedazzle” with chilli powder or Chamoy paste. Cinemas don’t serve sweet or salty popcorn anymore, instead, you can add a flavoured powder of your favourite spicy crisps.
It’s not a thought of my own knowing that the effect chillies have on Mexicans are Physical and Psychological. The Physical reason, being a Scientific one too, it’s the sensation of spiciness (Capsaicin), which stimulates the release of endorphins related to the feeling of pleasure, which is why eating chilies helps increase serotonin levels. So after increasingly eating spicy food, we get addicted to the small intakes of pain, resulting to the appearance of standard food, what we call, “sin chiste” aka, plain or boring. And while slowly gaining what you consider as an “impressive” tolerance, the risks could get closer and closer, one salsa at a time.
Risks you say? Heartburn, Haemorrhoids, all kinds of Intestinal problems, including the rare proved case of Stomach Cancer.
My own brother woke up one night thinking he was having a heart attack, but after collecting a hefty pile of medical bills, turns out he just had a severe case of heartburn. When the doctor forbade him spicy food, I could swear the reaction was as if he was just told he had a few months to live. The women in the family each had a task to make sure we wasn’t eating spicy food behind our backs. Since he drove me to school every morning, we had to end the habit of stopping at the 7/11 for our usual Gatorade and spicy crisps for breakfast… that’s right, breakfast, 5 days a week. My mom would check his fingers for that recognisable red food dye you would get from his favourite crisps, Takis Flaming Hot, Runners or Chips Fuego. And my older sister who shared friends and concur parties with him, would keep an eye that there was no salsas on his after-party tacos. His recovery was a fast one, of course, yet another case of why women live longer. But today, he’s the proud owner of three shelves filled by 16 hot sauces and 9 types of chilli oils or powders.
Let’s take a little step back and go over the Psychological reason, where one is supposedly knighted by the community with an apparent “bravery” of showing off your spice intake.
What is it about proving you can take spice? Why do we want that label as if it’s going be immortalised under our yearbook picture, quoting “The Best Spice Tolerance”. Is it all just to show your friends, partner, mom or local taquero that you’re “macho” enough to take his salsas and earn a certain type of validation?
Don’t get me wrong, there’s an incredible and addictive sense of narcissism when you’re living abroad for the first time, and there’s an unspoken respect Mexicans and other Latinos get for the reputation of our spicy eating habits. But in cases like mine, where I used to partake on the infrequent drips of Valentina or pickled jalapeños, I suddenly felt powerless in a foreign place. I can still recall that first dinner I hosted with the Korean girls from an art course I did back in Glasgow; they prepared dishes like Tteokbokki or Bulgogi beef drenched in Gochujang sauce. There I was, an overconfident, presumptuous wee gal, quickly faced with the reality of my lack of Korean food knowledge, short-tempered stomach and sudden loss of identity. At the end of the night, I walked back home in silence and with a gifted 500g box of Gochujang paste to train my resistance.
With time, practice and some constant failure, I cultivated a bigger love for spice, which has made me acknowledge the difference between indulging and appreciating what Mexican Cuisine has to offer.
Chile Ancho, Guajillo, de Morita, Pasilla or de Árbol. I was lucky enough to have shops like Lupe Pintos in Glasgow or Mexican Mama online, where I could still work along this time-honoured ingredients half a world away. I’ll similarly be honest and say I still haven’t master these particular ingredients, from forgetting their name, to their uses; it get’s one’s head around why it was the elders that had control over this elements all the way to primeval times. It’s a lifetime’s worth of knowledge and mastering.
Other known and popular spices that were brought by trade, were unreachable or limited to certain socio-economic classes. In Mexico, compared to other food chain components, the chilli has been mostly an inexpensive product; Whether you harvest them, or buy them in el mercado, this ingredient has been passed for over generations for more than 5,000 years. It has seen the highs and lows of an entire civilisation, and it has stuck around, which in my opinion, means el Chile has never, and will never be a judgemental ingredient, it can elevate or humble anyone, doesn’t matter who you are or where you come from.
I’m currently travelling around South East Asia, and I started the journey knowing that I had to be respectful not only to foreign food in general, but foreign spice; The same way as I would expect people travelling to my home country for the first time. Places like Thailand or Malaysia have thought me the joy and integrity that spice has in a community or even a whole country. Wether you do it to show it off as if it was a boy-scout badge, or for pure personal pleasure, it makes me question how could a small fruit (yes, fruit) can keep such a narrative, about its people, the nature and its climate, the history and the deep care it goes beyond it.
