Outdoor Retailer Summer Market Day 2: Hellfire Challenge, Part 1

Photo by Amy Jurries
Whenever I travel to a new place, I try to watch Man vs. Food and see what restaurants and food challenges I should try out. If you haven't seen the show, it consists of a tour of various cities around the US, and culminates in a food challenge that entails consuming either a huge quantity of food or a ridiculously spicy meal. 

Since I was in Salt Lake City for Outdoor Retailer Summer Market, I watched the SLC episode, which ended with Kobe Sushi's Hellfire Challenge. The challenge requires you to eat a series of hotter and hotter pieces of sushi, starting with level four and ending with the blazing-hot level seven. Chef Alex has to watch you eat each piece to make sure that you can handle the next. 

On day two of the ORSM I went to dinner with a few people from Columbia Sportswear and some other journalists (including Amy Jurries, The Gearcaster, and Columbia's Andrea Palavicinni, both of whom took a bunch of pictures), and four of us decided to give it a shot. 
From left to right: Billy Brown, Scott Trepanier, Ana Trujillo, and Adam Buchanan Photo by Andrea Pallavicini
The intrepid four were Ana Trujillo, a writer with snewsnet.com, me, and Scott Trepanier and Adam Buchanan from Columbia. This is our story. 

Round One: Levels 4, 5, and 6
After warming up with the deliciously non-spicy Yum-Yum rolls, we get cracking on the first round. This round consists of one peice each of the first three levels. All four of us put these down without much of a struggle; level 4 (with hot Sriracha sauce and a custom set of house spices) is spicy but not  bad, 5 has a little kick at the end of it, and 6 ramps up the heat with red chili shichimi, making it probably the hottest sushi that I've ever eaten at that point. It's not so bad, because we have a strategy of taking a quick chew and swallowing the sushi whole without letting it touch much of our mouths at all. Adam, however, makes the rookie mistake of licking his lips, leading to a gnarly afterburn.  
Ana digging in on the Yum-Yum roll. Photo by Amy Jurries
It's nothing terrible, but Ana calls it quits, wisely deciding that she doesn't like where things were headed.

We're down to three. 

Round 2: Level 6.5
While we wait for level 6.5, Chef Alex jovially chats with us, but I'm only gleaning snippets from his thick accent. Adam, whose lips were still en fuego from the last round, shouts "What's he sayin', Billy?"

Is he hoping for advice? Encouragement? There's none to be found.
Working on 6.5. Photo by Amy Jurries
After about twenty nerve-wracking minutes of waiting, Chef Alex serves us level 6.5. We're about to eat two pieces of level 6.5. Thai chilis are added at this point, making it significantly hotter than the others.  Additionally, level 6.5 is completely covered in cayenne pepper powder. Now, cayenne is pretty hot, but what makes this such a big deal is that it's powder. This negated our attempts to swallow them whole, because the powder tends to coat the inside your mouth, much like eating a cracker when you have cottonmouth.
Level 6. This is not the expression of a happy man. Photo by Andrea Pallavicini
As soon as I start chewing, the cayenne invades every crevice in my mouth. I feel it on my gums, under my tongue, and in my teeth. The burn starts immediately, and Scott, Adam, and I are all at our seats, sweating, coughing, and chugging milk. It was too much for Adam, who backs out, leaving Scott and I to face level 7.
Signing the waiver, note the smile on my face. Photo by Andrea Pallavicini
We have to sign a waiver before we move on. It's very comprehensive, absolving the restaurant of any responsibility for injury or death, making us confirm that we were choosing to do the challenge of our own free will, then writing down our insurance provider, signing it, and getting a witness to sign as well. It all seems very official, but Scott and I sign it, dismissing it as a scare tactic.

Round 3: Level 7 
After a brutal wait (during which Adam heroically went and got Tums for us), they serve us the first two pieces of level 7, complete with sparklers patriotically jutting  from the plate. Level 7 has all the fire of the previous levels, with ground red Chinese chili seeds added to elevate the pain to levels of transcendence reached only by ascetic Hindu shaman and Timothy Leary-era acid fans.
Level 7, where things start to go downhill. Photo by Andrea Pallavicini

We had to eat six pieces of the level 7 in three rounds of two rather than all at once, like on Man vs. Food. According to Chef Alex, this was because too many people were going to the hospital from eating them all at once. 

After a few deep breaths, Scott and I chow down on our sushi, eating fast to get it out of our mouths and past our taste buds as soon as possible. Scott immediately runs outside with his milk to gather his thoughts, but I sat back in my chair and wave it off. It's hot at first, but it settles quickly. I'm pleasantly surprised, actually.
I have no idea what I'm in for. Photo by Amy Jurries

Moments later, the fire comes and it comes with a thunder. It's not really a burning sensation on my tongue, but more of a raw acid feeling in my throat; it feels like someone had put steel wool on a plunger handle and rammed it up and down my throat for five minutes. 

I down my milk, scream for a refill, then run outside to deal with the fire in my head. I'm pouring sweat and tears and drooling like a werewolf - there's a puddle of saliva on the ground in front of me. As I storm around, eyes wide and watering, I look for solace in Scott's face, but find my own desperation reflected back to me. I'm about to tell him that I'm done with the challenge, when he looks at me and says "F--- that, I'm not doing it again." 

I nod agreement and stagger down the sidewalk to be on my own. The sushi had won.
It takes about forty minutes, countless Tums, and who knows how much milk for Scott and I to pull ourselves together enough to drive everybody home. My mouth is feeling better, and with the exception of a little burbling in my stomach, my guts are feeling fine. It's a good thing, too, because Teva's throwing a huge party, and we don't plan on missing it. 

Unfortunately, things don't always go as planned.