My eyes burned from the caustic fumes of batter-fried chili peppers (called bondas) spilling their seeds into boiling oil. Hiss. Sitting beside the frying vessel on a rusty gasoline stove, a large cast iron wok simmered a viscous mixture of water, stone-ground grains and wheat, Indian spices, and minced vegetables. I was with my father for lunch at the spicy food lover’s paradise in Bangalore’s Gandhi Bazaar district called Karabath, a family-owned restaurant run out of a garage. There were neither tables nor chairs, yet patrons, nearly all men, eagerly waited with mouths watering as the chefs, an old woman and her son, served the day’s first batch, scooping ladles of the steaming karabath into Styrofoam bowls topped with a pair of crispy chili bondas. This dish, the single item on the menu, was the restaurant’s namesake. “I started coming here with your grandfather when I was your age,” my father said to me as we waited in line. “It was exactly the same back then as it is today.”
My father had ordered just one serving. I watched as he carefully picked up the fried pepper by its stem and dunked it into the karabath. “You hold the bonda by its stem or you’ll burn your fingers,” he warned. He lifted the coated bonda into the air, and after preparing himself for a moment, bit down on half the pepper. As he chewed I saw beads of sweat start meandering down his face from his forehead. He opened his mouth periodically to allow steam out, and took slurps of the comparatively cool air.
Instinctively, I spat out the villain in my mouth and ran to a water cooler in the corner, allowing the icy water onto my face to extinguish the fire.
“Amazing!” he exclaimed after he had finished the bite. “It’s pretty spicy, are you sure you want to try?” he asked, wiping his face with a napkin. As an overly competitive thirteen-year-old, I viewed this as a challenge I would not shy away from. “Just nibble,” my father instructed, but I ignored his words and went in for the remaining half of the fried pepper. Big mistake! By the time I bit down, the sheer temperature combined with the pepper’s spiciness felt like a possessed flamethrower had replaced my tongue. I felt my throat and mouth inflame, my ears turn red, and my face start to drip with sweat. Instinctively, I spat out the villain in my mouth and ran to a water cooler in the corner, allowing the icy water onto my face to extinguish the fire.
During the ride back home, I could still feel the after-burn of that costly bite. “That’s why I told you to nibble,” teased my father. “You need to slowly build up a tolerance so you can appreciate the flavor. You can’t just jump in.” Nonetheless, I was glad to have survived the experience, but little did I realize that, unlike other foods, spicy food takes its revenge on the way out.
* * *
With that painful memory from years ago still in mind (and still easily recallable by my taste buds), I started the process of investigating why people enjoy eating extremely spicy foods. My research began with interviewing the people who first introduced me to spicy food: my parents. “It’s all about exposure and getting used to it,” insisted my mother, who explained that she used to sprinkle chili powder into my baby food to start gearing me towards a spicy palate. It’s a common practice in South Indian households. My father chimed in, “Spice is a flavor just like salty and sweet, except that you need practice to appreciate it.” He explained that, after becoming accustomed to spicy food, bland food just isn’t fulfilling (Kumar 2016). I could relate to this: after growing up enjoying my mother’s cooking, the MIT dining halls left something to be desired, and no amount of Sriracha or pickled jalapenos could help. I suppose eating spicy food is like long distance running; it’s pretty brutal at first, but as you get used to it you can go faster and farther and even start craving the runner’s high.
To get a broader understanding of why people enjoy spicy foods, I turned to the introductory chapter of the textbook Food and Culture in which nutritionist Pamela Kittler provides a comprehensive analysis of global cultures and cuisines. Children select foods eaten by people they admire, such as family members, peers, and even fictional characters (I only started liking spinach after watching Popeye), and if food is introduced in social settings such as family dinners or meals with friends, children and older people alike can develop an affinity for even seemingly unpalatable items (Kittler 2012). This might shed light on why I started enjoying beer in college despite its bitter taste as much as it explains how I developed a spicy palate as a kid due to the influence of those around me.
Kittler also points out that what we recognize as good food growing up influences our attitude towards the foods we encounter through the rest of our lives (Kittler 2012). Last month, I had a reunion with my freshman-year roommates at an Ethiopian restaurant in Boston. The food, which was much too spicy for my roommates, reminded me of food from home. I found it tasty and surprisingly familiar despite the actual flavor profile being quite different due to different blends of spices and seasonings.
As I now began to understand how people grow accustomed to spicy food through family influences and repeated exposure, I was more curious as to what drives people to eat the truly painful breed of spicy foods when tasty and milder options are available. It’s one thing to enjoy a buffalo wing that might cause your lips to burn a little or turn your face a tad sweaty, but foods like the karabath I had with my father are at another level of spiciness. I thought of a Travel Channel show I had watched recently called Man Vs. Food, where the host and competitive eater, Adam Richman, pushed the boundaries of buffalo wing eating by taking down a plate of habanero-and-ghost-pepper wings. The Scoville scale is a measurement of the pungency of chili peppers, and according to Richman, the heat stored in one of those so-called “Suicide Wings” was a hundred times that of a jalapeno pepper on the Scoville scale! Interestingly, Richman took two separate attempts to defeat the Suicide Wings. The first time, he could barely get past the first bite, adding credence to the notion that a tolerance for spice can be developed over time.
A scientific study carried out by Pennsylvania State scientists Nadia Byrnes and John Hayes explores the relationship between personality factors and the liking of spicy foods. Byrnes and Hayes asked a pool of nearly 100 participants to fill out a food-preference questionnaire and to rate the intensity after sampling six stimuli, including capsaicin (the “spicy” chemical in chili peppers) diluted with water. The participants were then given a personality questionnaire. Their key takeaways are that sensation-seeking (aka “thrill-seeking”) and sensitivity to reward are positively associated with spicy food affinity, suggesting that some people enjoy eating spicy foods much like others enjoy riding record-breaking roller coasters or playing that next round of blackjack (Byrnes 2013). When taking down the Suicide Wings, Richman was likely also driven by the “sensitivity to reward”, especially with a title at stake and a crowd of people watching at the restaurant (not to mention the millions who would be watching from home).
Looking back, I can justifiably categorize my father as a thrill seeker beyond his willingness to eat deep-fried peppers that would undoubtedly be high on the Scoville scale. On a family vacation to Yellowstone National Park a few years back, my father went dangerously close to a wild bison despite warning signs all over the park. He claimed he wanted to get the right angle for the picture, but I bet he just wanted to prove something to us and to himself.
While I understood that personality factors can drive certain individuals to eat spicier foods, I still wondered what led humans to eat spicy food in the first place. There are so many countries (beyond India) around the world whose regional cuisines are famously spicy: Thai, Chinese, Mexican, and many more. Assuming evolutionary theories are true, I figured there must be some genetic or at least historically practical reason that humans all over the world have adapted to eat spicy food. Byrnes and Hayes suggest that genetics might be able to explain both humans’ tendency to eat spicy foods along with individual differences in spicy food sensitivity. Their previously discussed study exploring the influence of personality factors on spicy food affinity is actually part of a larger investigation concerning the role of the TRPV1 protein, referred to as the capsaicin pain receptor, which is responsible for the heat-and-pain sensation we experience when eating spicy food (Byrnes 2013). While the overall investigation has the potential to shed more light on the scientific basis for perceived spiciness, research is ongoing and there is still a lot to learn.
Rozin points out that humans are thought to be the only animals that find pleasure in the painful sensation of spicy food.
An article entitled “On Capsaicin: Why Do We Love to Eat Hot Peppers?” published in Scientific American summarizes the work of Paul Rozin, a psychologist at the University of Pennsylvania. Rozin points out that humans are thought to be the only animals that find pleasure in the painful sensation of spicy food (Goldman 2011). Humans are smart enough to realize that the unpleasant spicy food is not a real threat. Moreover, records suggest human consumption of the chili pepper dating back to over nine thousand years ago in MesoAmerica (Goldman 2011). In high school history I learned that the era of human civilization only dates back around six thousand years, meaning that humans were seeking out spicy foods as hunter-gatherers.
I was surprised to read that spicy food dates so far back, but it turns out there are some practical applications of spices. A 2005 article published in National Geographic explores why cultures in warmer climates tend to have spicier cuisines. Spices, which are natural antimicrobials, inhibit the growth of food-borne pathogens (especially in meat) that tend to be more prolific in warmer climates. On the other hand, colder climates slow down the proliferation of pathogens, so in cooler regions it was less necessary to use spices to prevent food contamination (Roach 2005). As a result, cuisines like that of Iceland tend to be blander compared to those of much warmer environments such as in India. Thus, it makes sense how spicy food was ingrained in so many warmer-climate cultures around the world: the use of spices stemmed from necessity and eventually became a taste preference that was passed down through generations.
While there is still a lot to learn about why people enjoy eating spicy foods, there remains an ongoing debate in the scientific community as to the leading factor contributing to one’s affinity for spicy food. It is unclear whether the dominant factor is personality differences pertaining to sensation-seeking behavior, exposure and external influences, or individual genotypes (where research is only just beginning). One thing that is clear, however, is that I will never take another bite of that karabath. While I consider myself a fan of spicy food, I’m part of a larger culture that appreciates spiciness, and I enjoy a good kick every now and then, I doubt I’ll ever be able to enjoy my peppers the way my father does. As for the next time I attempt a spicy food adventure, I’ll remember his advice: “Just nibble!”
References
Byrnes, Nadia K., and Hayes, John E. (2013, April). “Personality factors predict spicy food liking and intake.” Food Quality and Preference. 28 (1). 213-221.
Goldman, Jason G. (2011, November 30). “On Capsaicin: Why Do We Love to Eat Hot Peppers?” Scientific American. The Thoughtful Animal (blog).
Kittler, Pamela G., Sucher Kathryn P., and Nahikian-Nelms, Marcia. (2012). Food and Culture (6th ed.). Belmont, CA: Wadsworth Cengage Learning.
Kumar, Anil and Bindu. (2016, March 24). Interview about Spicy Food [Telephone interview].
Roach, John. (2005, November 11). “Why Some Like it Hot: Spices Are Nature’s Meds, Scientist Says.” National Geographic News.
