West African Hot Red Pepper Sauce Adventure

Coping with fear is a deeply familiar struggle, especially lately. Much can go seriously wrong just in the kitchen. There were times I couldn’t take the heat, literally and figuratively.

As a kid, I was mixing herbs and spices together for a witchy potion and got cayenne pepper in my eye. Screaming ensued. You’d think adult me would know better, but Guillaume and I inadvertently produced tear gas during an experimental recipe involving extra hot Hatch green chile peppers.

Then, last summer, bright red habanero peppers covered our three leafy green potted plants like pre-decorated holiday trees almost overnight. Would they be welcome gifts or pure pain? I’d never been so scared of something I grew myself.

In my head, habaneros were less spicy than scotch bonnets, but the chart in an African cookbook Guillaume gave me clarified that red habaneros edge out red scotch bonnets on the Scoville scale. My peppers could be “very hot,” but still far from the face-melting hallucinatory “extreme” end.

Our habaneros ripened too late for their intended purpose: cherry bomb chicken, a summertime recipe Guillaume discovered and perfected that uses four habaneros. The sweet and spicy glaze preparation also makes enough delicious cherry chutney to put inside two grilled cheddar cheese sandwiches. We gave away as many peppers as we could and still had dozens left to freeze. There had to be a way to use them up.

Los Angeles-based blogger and self-described spice queen Evi Aki’s cookbook Flavors of Africa has gorgeous photos and accessible recipes from around the continent that provided inspiration. In the Western Africa section, I kept returning to her “pili pili hot pepper sauce” that calls for 12 African bird’s eye chiles or 12 small habaneros, wondering what she meant by “small.” From the mouthwatering photos, this sauce is supposed to be bright orange, fairly smooth, spicy, and an accompaniment to Nigerian deep-fried plantains.

Pili-pili, also called peri-peri and piri-piri, originated with late 15th Century Portuguese explorers in Mozambique and has a complex history, according to several reputable online sources. The sauce, whose name comes from the Swahili for African birds-eye peppers, combines them with vinegar, garlic, paprika, and other ingredients to create a marinade. Aki’s hot pepper sauce seems to differ from the Southern African marinade, more closely resembling a cross between the recipes for everyday tomato gravy and fresh pepper sauce in The Ghana Cookbook by Fran Osseo-Asare and Barbara Baëta.

Whatever the sauce’s origins, a new local Indian food truck specializing in egg dishes — and egg puns — convinced me to go from drooling over the cookbook photos to hauling out the blender. The truck had just moved to an accessible spot close to our neighborhood with flower planters, string lights, and welcoming outdoor seating. On the menu: an egg peri peri sandwich. This crispy, fiery panini had wonderfully contrasting textures and flavors, creaminess balancing out the heat.

Back at home, I put on safety glasses and food-safe protective gloves. Guillaume advised trying the recipe with four homegrown red habaneros to start. The ones I picked seemed comparable in size to the ones we’ve bought at grocery stores in the past. The recipe says it makes 4 to 5 cups, but the actual ingredient amounts produce closer to 2 cups.

Spiciness can vary greatly within pepper types so getting the balance right for our personal tastes almost felt like a fluke. My first iteration was delicious. We scooped most of it straight into our mouths with local tortilla chips and saved the rest to have on pasta. The second time, the four slightly smaller habaneros were so unusually mild that there was zero heat. Still tasty! Just not spicy. The third time, after weighing and adding nearly 1 ounce of previously frozen homegrown habaneros, produced a pleasant tingle at the end again.

This recipe happens to be vegan and gluten free. And, unlike my homemade Mexican orange sauce, it reheats nicely. To make a pasta sauce, set some in a small pan over medium heat until bubbling. Mix it into your cooked pasta of choice, and add a little more salt to taste. Alternatively, when the sauce begins to bubble, whisk in a few tablespoons of heavy cream, add a sprinkle of salt, and continue stirring until it thickens slightly. We enjoyed some on curly pasta with freshly grated Parmesan cheese.

Amazing how one little jar of sauce vanquished so much fear.

West African Hot Red Pepper Sauce
Adapted from Evi Aki’s Flavors of Africa

Makes 1½ to 2 cups

¼ C. olive oil
1 tsp. salt or to taste
4 campari tomatoes (approx. 6 oz.), green stems removed
1 orange bell pepper (approx. 6 oz.), trimmed and de-seeded
1 sweet vidalia onion (approx. 10 oz.) (can substitute a small yellow onion), trimmed and peeled
2 cloves garlic, peeled, germs removed, and minced
About 1 oz. (around 4) red habanero peppers, trimmed and de-seeded; see notes on safe handling below

Equipment and tools: Blender, cutting board, parchment paper, food gloves, protective eyewear, medium saucepan.

Measure out the olive oil and set it aside. Measure out the salt and set aside.

Prepare the tomatoes, bell pepper, onion, and garlic first. Cut the tomatoes, bell pepper, and onion into large chunks. Add them all to the blender pitcher.

Put a piece of parchment paper over the cutting board. Put on clean food gloves and protective eyewear before preparing the habanero peppers. If using frozen peppers, dunk them briefly in warm water to thaw, and then pat them dry. Remove the stems, ribs, and all seeds. Put the peppers into the blender with the other vegetables. Carefully discard the parchment paper with the seeds and stems. Remove gloves.

Put the lid on the blender or food processor and pulse until the mixture is smooth. Now add the salt and olive oil, put the lid back on, and blend on medium-high until fully incorporated. It’s okay if the mixture looks pale pink at this point.

Keeping protective eyewear on, carefully pour the entire mixture into a medium-sized saucepan. Set the heat to medium and, once the sauce starts bubbling, set a 30-minute timer. Lower heat slightly if needed to avoid big splatters. Stir the mixture about once every 5 minutes or until it’s thicker and darker orange.

Allow the sauce to cool slightly before tasting it and adding more salt if desired. The prepared sauce can be stored in the refrigerator for up to two weeks, according to the original recipe, but we haven’t had enough left over to test that yet.