And we don’t mean Red Hot Chili Peppers fans. Well at least not the band. We’re talking about proper chili peppers, the beautifully colored ones that add flavor – and a kick – to your dishes. The ones that compulse you to reach for your water bottle and take a long gulp or two.
Here at The Londinium Project, we are self professed chiliheads. We put hot sauce in everything we eat. We go through Sriracha sauce with alarming velocity, using it as a dressing for our salad, making sure our greens are well spiced. And our pantry – by that we mean the drawer where we store our dry goods – is bursting with dried peppers of varying heat – habaneros, cayenne, Thai chili, serrano, chipotle, paprika, and several more. We grind them and add to sauces and pretty much everything else, even pop corn, which, yes, we do make ourselves. No microwave variety in this household. They are so hot that we have to wait for the particles to settle before opening the grinder or risk watering eyes and a coughing fit as soon as we inhale the dust.
So, it is not surprising that as soon as we heard about The Festival of Heat, there was no doubt that we had to check it out. In fact, we couldn’t wait. It didn’t hurt that Sunday was a gorgeous day, warmer than it’s been, and ideal for a walk. We made our way to Spitalfields City Farm, a couple of blocks from Brick Lane. We got a little lost, and ended up following people who we assumed, thankfully rightly so, were going to the festival. So please, no comments about “when you assume you make an …..”
Once inside we took a look at the stalls. There was no doubt that we would have to purchase some spicy sauces to add to our collection. We checked some chili oil, but soon dismissed it as something we could easily make ourselves, especially after sampling. Then we came across the Granny Delicious stall and tried the Heat Chili Sauce, Hot, Hot, Hot Pepper Sauce, and Kicking Apple Jelly. Absolutely delicious and at £12 for the three, it was a deal.
We took a look at the other stalls and were turning back to leave when one of the ladies from Granny Delicious came running after us with 50 cents — not the rapper — of extra change which we hadn’t noticed was missing. It was much appreciated honesty.
We’ve already gone through a lot of the sauces, so we’re going to have to hunt Granny Delicious down elsewhere to get stock up.