Whether it was Roman gladiators skewering each other, Medieval jousters skewering each other, or modern-day fencers … skewering each other, humankind has always felt the need to prove itself in oftentimes-painful competition. And while acts of strength or speed have usually gotten the job done, occasionally we’ve needed an alternate way to prove how awesome we are.
Enter competitive eating. Though the activity dates back decades, if not centuries, it really gained popularity in the last 10 years, starting when tiny Japanese eater Takeru Kobayashi proved in 2001 you don’t have to be a human-blimp to eat a ton of hot dogs. Arthritis of the jaw derailed Kobayashi’s career in hilariously appropriate fashion, paving the way for American Joey Chestnut to show that while you don’t have to be a giant to eat competitively, it certainly helps.
In perhaps a show of spiritual solidarity with his fellow Chestnut-named eater, Chestnut Growler of local Celtic/punk band the Swaggering Growlers enters El Pelón Taqueria on Commonwealth Avenue in Brighton Wednesday night for the annual “Fiery Fifteen” contest. Matt Chyriwski, a senior marketing major at Boston College, joins him, as does another competitor. The challenge: eat and hold down 15 habanero peppers in 15 minutes. The reward: qualification for the finals, with a chance at a year’s supply of free burritos.
Pretty tempting when band-related expenses can stretch your food-dollar pretty thin.
The El Pelón staff brings out three aluminum tins of habaneros – each a green, yellow or orange morsel of hell – sets them before the three contestants and starts the timer. The race is on.
Each contestant takes the same approach: eat all 15 as fast as humanly possible.
One dude eats seven in 30 seconds, puts the tray aside and taps out. Growler polishes off his entire tin in a minute, and Chyriwski finishes five seconds later. Now they just have to keep it all down for the remaining 14 minutes.
“If you eat one of those or if you eat three of them at a time, it’s the same heat,” Growler says. “I would just rather come in here and be like a complete retard.”
Growler shows little reaction to the peppers’ heat while eating them, and if he’s feeling any pain during the countdown, he never shows it. Hands and feet constantly bouncing up and down, Growler looks energetic but relatively unfazed as Slayer blasts through his earbuds.
“The way my mind was coming into this, I was just eating all the sins I’ve had in the last couple of months and reveling in them,” Growler says. He adds that he picked Slayer because of “the hate.”
For a few minutes, Growler can’t speak, signaling for more horchata – a Mexican rice-milk drink with cinnamon – with his hands. He whispers “thank you” as a server obliges him. And with the cool drink washing away some of the capsicum and soothing his pepper-roasted throat, Growler relaxes.
“How you feelin, bro?” a supporter of Chyriwski asks him, and he responds, “Amazing!”
Eventually Growler takes out the earbuds and starts cracking jokes with the small crowd gathered at the Brighton eatery.
“Does my face match my hair yet?” he asks, pausing to wipe his eyes briefly with his black bandana.
A few tears, a slight sheen – not too bad for a man who just ate 15 peppers whose 200,000- to 300,000-rating on the Scoville scale kick in just moments after you bite down.
“It’s kinda like doing a piercing over a very long period of time,” he says.
With his voice returned and habanero-induced stomach pain setting in, Growler begins to serenade the crowd with some of the loudest and most nuanced belches possibly in human history.
“I should’ve used the megaphone for that one,” Growler says after his first. And for his next eructative aria, he does exactly that, sending everyone into fits of laughter.
Chyriwski, meanwhile polishes off a half-gallon of fat-free milk. He never looks like he’s going to barf, but a glassy-eyed expression comes over his face as the final minutes tick away.
The expression says, “I regret every decision that led me to this night.”
“I’ve had some of these before, just not 15 of them,” Chyriwski says.
Growler, who says he used to grow habaneros, acts like this contest is nothing out of the ordinary. As the final five minutes approach, he just gets stronger and stronger.
“This shit doesn’t even hurt anymore,” Growler says with three minutes to go. He actually asks for more habaneros at this point, tossing back a couple like popcorn chicken.
The last 60 seconds, as with the majority of the 15-minute contest, pass without incident for Growler. Save for a moment or two of wide eyes or scorched larynx, he stays calm, at peace and in good spirit throughout the ordeal.
The Tao of chilli eating. Easy work for the drummer.
“I haven’t eaten a decent hot pepper in probably a couple of years,” Growler says.
He adds he’s also tackled the even hotter scotch bonnet pepper, though even that doesn’t hold a candle to chillis like the ghost or infinity pepper. Apparently, super-hot chillis all get named by yeah-dudes. Expect the “Beast-mode Chilli” to debut soon.
Both Growler and Chyriwski move on to the finals next month. They’ll also no doubt pay over the next 24 hours for indulging their pepper-lust.
“Tomorrow’s our first day of tour,” Growler says. “Ought to be interesting.”
With Growler’s ability to remain unfazed in the face of the pepper’s considerable fire, it’s hard to imagine him not winning it all come May.
See More Pictures: El Pelón’s Fiery Fifteen Photo Album
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