/ck/ - Food & Cooking

>Sauce log # 769: Professor Prolapse's Seven Septillion Scoville Total Eclipse of the Shart Sauce.
>Whilst taking a weekend stroll through Newbury Comics and perusing the Funko Pop offerings, I happened upon a display most intriguing: various bawdily-labeled bottles and jars of that red ambrosia most dearest to my heart. My humor tickled and my taste buds tantalized, I simply had to - had to! - acquire one of each - no less than 6 bottles - to add to my (rather expansive) collection. I bid the cashier adieux and headed back to my apartment with exposed brick walls.
>Now, where to start with Professor Prolapse's Seven Septillion Scoville Total Eclipse of the Shart Sauce? The label is a most humorous thing, depicting what appears to be a Martian landscape with a man in lab refinery dragging his gaunt, agonized body across a vast desert, his anus having prolapsed and caught fire, trawling behind him like a smoldering red wedding train. I chuckle heartily at the daft scenario and proceed to open the bottle.
>Fragrance: Astringent leather and capsicum forward; notes of alium, smoke, electric fire, feline piss. Very mature. My mouth begins to water.
>Taste test: I dab 5 ml of the tip of my tongue and swish it about my mouth. And lo, lo, for the fields of Elysium have opened up before me, so godly is the sauce! Yet it is not taste which immediately elevates me to such a state (though the taste is very good); nay, it is the HEAT, my dear reader, the divine HEAT of Helios that surges across my tongue and through my nervous system that defines any concoction by that culinary alchemist Professor Prolapse. The name is not the utterings of a blackguard: this is not a hot sauce for the uninitiated.
>Final score: 81/100. Pairs nicely with a thrice-hopped IPA.

>Sauce log # 769: Professor Prolapse's Seven Septillion Scoville Total Eclipse of the Shart Sauce.
>Whilst taking a weekend stroll through Newbury Comics and perusing the Funko Pop offerings, I happened upon a display most intriguing: various bawdily-labeled bottles and jars of that red ambrosia most dearest to my heart. My humor tickled and my taste buds tantalized, I simply had to - had to! - acquire one of each - no less than 6 bottles - to add to my (rather expansive) collection. I bid the cashier adieux and headed back to my apartment with exposed brick walls.
>Now, where to start with Professor Prolapse's Seven Septillion Scoville Total Eclipse of the Shart Sauce? The label is a most humorous thing, depicting what appears to be a Martian landscape with a man in lab refinery dragging his gaunt, agonized body across a vast desert, his anus having prolapsed and caught fire, trawling behind him like a smoldering red wedding train. I chuckle heartily at the daft scenario and proceed to open the bottle.
>Fragrance: Astringent leather and capsicum forward; notes of alium, smoke, electric fire, feline piss. Very mature. My mouth begins to water.
>Taste test: I dab 5 ml of the tip of my tongue and swish it about my mouth. And lo, lo, for the fields of Elysium have opened up before me, so godly is the sauce! Yet it is not taste which immediately elevates me to such a state (though the taste is very good); nay, it is the HEAT, my dear reader, the divine HEAT of Helios that surges across my tongue and through my nervous system that defines any concoction by that culinary alchemist Professor Prolapse. The name is not the utterings of a blackguard: this is not a hot sauce for the uninitiated.
>Final score: 81/100. Pairs nicely with a thrice-hopped IPA.