By
Sudha Devi Nayak
Desiree Schneider, a young researcher and project leader, has
undertaken the “hottest project” at the University of Fulda in Germany
to assess the effectiveness of various remedies to combat the hot rush
the capsaicin in chilli causes when it is consumed. Schneider’s team of
volunteers including herself were the guinea pigs who subjected their
taste buds to a series of tests where they had to ingest large doses of
capsaicin. The good news is they have discovered that the mascarpone
cheese on sliced bread is the salve to the tongue.
The chilli derives its name from the Nahuatl language spoken in Mexico, originated in South America and brought to Asia by Portuguese navigators in the 16th century. India is the largest producer, consumer, exporter of chillies. Guntur district in Andhra Pradesh produces 30 per cent of chillies in India and the state itself accounts for 75% of chilli exports.
The chilli contains large amounts of Vitamin C and small amounts of carotene. The Scoville scale invented by a pharmacist, Wilbur Scoville, measures the pungency of chilli peppers. Bhut jolokia, the erstwhile the hottest chilli grown in parts of the Northeast, comes in tongue-scorching 855000 to 105000 units.
The Guntur chillies and Scotch Bonnet peppers and habaneros come in 100000 to 350000 units.
Chilli growers in Dorset produced the Infinity chilli which is like acid. The hot spicy Tabasco sauce from Tabasco peppers, fiery red chillies that originate in the Mexican state of Tabasco, measures within 2000-8000 units.
The Indian palate is undaunted by the chilli and the Andhra palate in particular bred on an assortment of fiery pickles and powders (ooragaya and podi). To the uninitiated, to be eating avakai, green mango pickle with red hot chilli and mustard powder doused in oil or the traditional gongura pickle or chutney with a generous dose of chillies, calls for raw courage. These pickles that explode on the tongue can be savoured only by the palate to the taste born. In Andhra any veggie you set eyes on is pickled—tomato, brinjal, carrot, cauliflower or what have you.
The various powders or podis, ingredients of pulses and dried veggies mixed with rice and a dash of ghee are something to die for. The mother of all podis, the sublimely delicious nalla karam (black chilli powder), called so because it’s mixed with tamarind, was my grandmother’s piece de resistance, a thing of pure delight.
But my north and eastern Indian friends dub them gun powder and would prefer to keep it at arm’s length. A friend adventurous enough to try a pinch cried for hours after later. But, with lifestyles changing and tastes getting more sophisticated, people more mindful of calories and cholesterol are keeping off the stuff. A podi is no longer a necessary item on the platter
The chilli derives its name from the Nahuatl language spoken in Mexico, originated in South America and brought to Asia by Portuguese navigators in the 16th century. India is the largest producer, consumer, exporter of chillies. Guntur district in Andhra Pradesh produces 30 per cent of chillies in India and the state itself accounts for 75% of chilli exports.
The chilli contains large amounts of Vitamin C and small amounts of carotene. The Scoville scale invented by a pharmacist, Wilbur Scoville, measures the pungency of chilli peppers. Bhut jolokia, the erstwhile the hottest chilli grown in parts of the Northeast, comes in tongue-scorching 855000 to 105000 units.
The Guntur chillies and Scotch Bonnet peppers and habaneros come in 100000 to 350000 units.
Chilli growers in Dorset produced the Infinity chilli which is like acid. The hot spicy Tabasco sauce from Tabasco peppers, fiery red chillies that originate in the Mexican state of Tabasco, measures within 2000-8000 units.
The Indian palate is undaunted by the chilli and the Andhra palate in particular bred on an assortment of fiery pickles and powders (ooragaya and podi). To the uninitiated, to be eating avakai, green mango pickle with red hot chilli and mustard powder doused in oil or the traditional gongura pickle or chutney with a generous dose of chillies, calls for raw courage. These pickles that explode on the tongue can be savoured only by the palate to the taste born. In Andhra any veggie you set eyes on is pickled—tomato, brinjal, carrot, cauliflower or what have you.
The various powders or podis, ingredients of pulses and dried veggies mixed with rice and a dash of ghee are something to die for. The mother of all podis, the sublimely delicious nalla karam (black chilli powder), called so because it’s mixed with tamarind, was my grandmother’s piece de resistance, a thing of pure delight.
But my north and eastern Indian friends dub them gun powder and would prefer to keep it at arm’s length. A friend adventurous enough to try a pinch cried for hours after later. But, with lifestyles changing and tastes getting more sophisticated, people more mindful of calories and cholesterol are keeping off the stuff. A podi is no longer a necessary item on the platter