My love of Thai food is no secret. Ever since Thai Café opened up shop just down Grove Street from the Ledger-Transcript newsroom, it’s been my go-to lunch on deadline days. So much so, in fact, that when I call in my order, I don’t even have to say it out loud — the caller ID is enough for the staff to start whipping up a chicken pad thai with extra hot sauce.
When I heard about the Inferno Noodle Challenge, I knew I had to try it. I’m up for any competition and I like my noodles spicy — what could go wrong?
Thai Café’s Banks Promploy explained the rules to me. I had 15 minutes to finish the noodle plate and another five minutes of cooldown during which I had to stay at the table. One 16-ounce cup of water was all I was allowed. No throwing up, and no crying.
Do all that, Promploy said, and I get a free beverage, a t-shirt, a photo on Thai Café’s Facebook page, and, he emphasized, bragging rights.
Were those prizes worth putting my palate and intestinal tract to the test? I didn’t think it through very far — in matters like these, immediate action is required.
I signed the waiver saying I wouldn’t sue them if I died from eating the inferno noodles — I have life insurance, after all.
The inferno noodles are a Promploy original — “I call it my five-pepper sauce,” he said, and upon delivery of the plate, I could see chunks of various chopped hot peppers that were set to send my guts into a frenzy.
Not one to stand on ceremony, I scooped a forkful and started eating as Promploy triggered the egg timer for a 15-minute countdown.
My initial assessment? It was hot, but flavorful, a dish I’d consider eating on a regular basis if it wasn’t concocted to assault my senses. Aside from the death peppers, the meal included onions, scallions and lettuce.
I wish I could describe the initial flavor in more detail, as it was delicious, but my immediate impression was quickly erased from my mouth and my memory as the spice took over. My game plan going in was to avoid drinking any of the water until the cooldown period, for fear that the liquid might exacerbate the spice level. Instead, I let the pain wash over me undeterred.
It started on my tongue, a burning sensation, and spread to the roof of my mouth. With each swallow, the pain spread further, down into my esophagus. I was a quarter of the way through my plate in about two minutes and I knew time would not be a factor. But would the intensity of the spice? I didn’t think so. Though the burn was spreading throughout my body, the spice level had plateaued, and I was confident it wasn’t going to get any hotter.
That’s not to say it wasn’t significantly hot, though; I had to pause, take some deep breaths, breathe heavily over my tongue like a dog in summertime, and make some faces that were unfortunately captured on the video that my colleagues were filming.
Nonetheless, I was in the home stretch, with over half my plate gone and no signs of slowing down. I made my way through the rest of the plate in a total of ten minutes and started the five minute cooldown period. This wasn’t as much of a challenge as I was expecting. I took my first sip of water and swished it around, half-expecting an exponential rise in my pain level. Mercifully, the water actually worked as a cooling agent, and I gulped it down greedily like a desert traveler at the sandy edge of an oasis.
The five minutes ticked away and I was victorious. I slurped a refreshing Thai iced tea, wiped my runny nose and gave the camera a big thumbs up.
The t-shirts were in production, Promploy said, so I left virtually empty-handed and fire-stomached. I went back to the newsroom, sat in front of my computer, and started internally moaning, as the meal began making my guts go nuts.
I went up to the bathroom and threw up.
Later that evening, I had a slice of pizza at the ConVal basketball game, and the greasy cheese and fluffy dough combined to settle my stomach for good. The next day, I went about my business with no ill effects.
The Inferno Noodle Challenge didn’t kill me, and considering it was designed for pain, the flavor was objectively pleasant. But, I think I’ll stick with my usual order from here on out.