Gourmet the Captain’s Way
Any old fool with hot peppers and a blender could make their own hot sauce. In fact, it seems like any old fool did, since most hot sauces are either glorified ketchup or excessively hot with no real payoff. It is my job as the Captain to bring balance.
If you want flavor—actual flavor—accenting a full-bodied heat, you have to have principles. And I happen to have six of them, which I follow to the letter with every drop.
The Six Principles of Flavor
- Don’t mess with perfection. When you have the guts to buy one of my sauces, you’re entrusting those guts with 100% natural, locally grown ingredients. My sauces are never made with water, powder, or hard-to-pronounce compounds—only the good stuff.
- The Devil’s in the details. For the utmost in flavor fine-tuning, I grow my own peppers make my sauces in small batches, completely by hand. Each mixture is manually blended and bottled, 10 pounds of peppers at a time.
- Variety is the spice of life. I’m not exclusively a one-pepper-per-sauce kind of Captain. My recipe for The Original, for example, blends the flavor and heat profiles of 10 different peppers. Many of my sauces kick ass with just a pepper or two, but I don’t shy away from bringing more players to the game.
- Give flavor a job to do. Every one of my sauces is crafted with a specific purpose in mind. Taste my wing sauce, my sambal sauce, my balsamic, or any other custom blend, and you’ll understand.
- Some like it hot. Everyone else is wrong. If you’re looking for a light salsa to complement your office party appetizer, look elsewhere. My mildest sauce is about a 3 out of 10. If you’re debating whether that’s too hot for you, it probably is. (But try it anyway, you daredevil. It’ll grow on you.)
- Everything in moderation. On the other hand, my spiciest sauce tops out at an 8.5 out of 10. There’s hotter out there, sure, but I find that hot for hot’s sake is always at the cost of flavor. And that’s never a price I’m willing to pay.