We remember our first tastes of things fondly. Our first bite into what becomes our favorite dish. Our first sip of what becomes our favorite new drink. Our first hit of that sweet primo shit that makes you feel… wait a minute. Sorry, I digressed. Um, Senor Weaselo here, Yeah Right and Sunday Gravy will return next week so I’m finally doing this, it took long enough. Oh, and if you’re looking for a recipe that will involve a hot sauce that may damage your gastrointestinal system, not this week. I’m not exactly the world’s greatest cook, though I can make pretty good wings (the Weaselo secret is Italian dressing—and hot sauce!) and have a secret ingredient to toaster oven pretzels (the secret is Reaper salt!) and fries seasonings (the secret is Reaper salt!) or mashed potatoes (the secret is… you get the point). Maybe some other time.

Anyway, the first taste of the things that lead us to new passions with have a life of their own. They get a kind of magical nostalgic quality, and for some things that’s great. But for others a second look makes you realize that it was a nice gateway because it led you to better things, but it actually wasn’t all that great. With that in mind, it’s story time!

Once upon a time, Senor wasn’t completely insane (on this front). He approved and appreciated his hot sauces but knew that some of Padre Weaselo’s sauces in the fridge were a bit dangerous. So he avoided them. Until one day where he didn’t. He decided “Why not” and put it on his chicken tenders for lunch. He took a bite and thought, “Hey, that’s really good.” So he had some more. Until he put too much on the last one and thought “Hmm, that’s pretty… ow. Ow indeed. I should probably figure out a way to neutralize this.” Fortunately there was a sale on ice cream that week and a pint of vanilla with my name on it, which I then polished most of. And that was the beginning of my battle with the pain receptors on my tongue!

So, let’s bring out the bottle, the sauce that started it all for me: Vicious Viper.

Made by the famous CaJohn’s Fiery Foods, Vicious Viper is one of their oldest insanely hot sauces. How do I know? Because that may or may not be the same bottle as I’ve moved onto others, which means the bottle is at least severals of years old. For a time it may have been their hottest, even though of course the years have led to hotter and hotter peppers. It’s not the pepper strength that matters on this one, since its a habanero based sauce which is now considered “okay, go on,” but there’s a 2 million Scoville pepper extract that’s also mixed in (probably also habanero-based, but I’m not totally sure). And by mixed in, I mean it’s the third ingredient behind vinegar and the aforementioned habaneros. Then there’s also some papaya, guava, and some other fruits to fill it out and give its flavor.

And what of this flavor? Well… it is like I remember. The heat is one thing, and yes, it still packs a punch, and yes, it still stays with you rather than fade quickly. It’s maybe a little less killing me than I remember, whether it’s because I’ve matured and built up a tolerance since first bite or because being in storage can potentially do anything to hot sauce (lessen the flavors, age and up the potency of the peppers, who knows?). I didn’t need an entire pint of ice cream to knock it down, so points for me.

It’s bitter, actually. You wouldn’t think it with all the fruit flavors, but it’s an added bit of unexpected that makes it a little more punishing on the palate. It’s not because it turned or anything, I do remember it being bitter, and I like bitter to an extent, but it’s a bit more than I’d like and I think it’s part of why it (ugh, phrasing in advance) doesn’t go down that smooth.

So what’s my verdict? ‘Twas a good gatekeeper for me. It’ll never go into my favorite sauces because of that bitterness, but it was a good first step in the heat department. Slightly younger Senor’s imagination didn’t run wild, it seems.

Senor didn’t overdo it for once, he only put several drops on some chicken strips. Like, 5 drops. Vicious Viper goes for $10 on the CaJohn’s website, plus if there’s S&H. As the label says, keep away from children and pets. And do not buttchug.