12 // COASTWEEKEND.COM
Coast Weekend’s local
restaurant review
Community comes together over spicy dishes in Fiery Food Festival
Review and photos by MOUTH
OF THE COLUMBIA
MOUTH@COASTWEEKEND.COM
T
The competition began as so
many others have: while boasting
at the bar.
It was elk season. The topic
turned to chili. “Mine’s the best,”
one said. “I can do better than
you,” another barked. “Alright,
well next week we’ll see.”
And lo, some 20 years ago, Wes
and Wally’s Fiery Food Festival
was born.
There was another at the bar
— the Relief Pitcher in Seaside —
who wanted to compete but wasn’t
a chili man. Instead then, it would
be a contest pitting spicy foods.
Early years saw competitors
trying to outdo one another with
tongue-scorching heat. Over the
decades, though, it’s become more
about developing compelling fl a-
vors with a fi ery kick.
Near the end of February, in
exchange for $5 at the door of
the Relief Pitcher, I was handed a
ballot, on which I would vote for
my top three dishes. There were
no offi cial judges; winners would
be selected democratically. Each
person who placed in the top three
would receive a plaque, a pair of
cast iron pans and a portion of the
proceeds (about $70 dollars each).
The dishes were mostly set atop
a covered pool table. They came in
crock pots, cupped in pyrex and on
cookie sheets. There were 11 in to-
tal, which organizers lamented was
less than the usual 20-odd entries
(and sometimes as many as 30).
Nonetheless, it seemed like plenty
of food to me, an occasion not
fl agging for lack of participation.
About a third of the concoctions
were desserts, which, I was told,
refl ected recent trends. Co-founder
Wes told me about his fi rst sweet
entry to the contest: an apple pie
that included cayenne in the fi lling
and habanero in a caramel topping.
After a few welcoming words
from Wes and Wally the tasting
began. A line snaked through the
The food was served pot-luck style,
and attendees sampled a portion of
each dish before voting for their top
three picks.
The hottest dish by far was the Satan’s Sweets hard candy.
The Chipotle Pot De Creme was of-
fered in single-serving cups.
standing-room-only crowd. The
charge was simple: Take only one
taste until everyone got a chance
to try. Then attendees were free
to go to town on the leftovers.
Alongside the entries were piles of
orange slices and Texas toast, to
help cut the spice. (I thought milk
or ice cream would’ve been more
effective.)
Most dishes were designed to
be single serving: a chicken wing,
a meatball, a dainty cup of chipotle
chocolate pot de creme. I fi lled my
plate with one of everything and
tried to fi nd a place to sample com-
fortably — the joint was packed.
Well, OK, I didn’t get to try
everything — the prawns in
the Louisiana Mt. Goat Peckers
were fi nished by the time I got
there. There was still plenty of
sauce, though, which I slurped
up. It was green and soupy, with
a sinus-clearing plume of horse-
radish. I asked the creator about
his concoction. “There’s no set
recipe,” he said. “I used enchilada
sauce, peppers, horseradish, pretty
much just all the things I had in my
tastebuds on high alarm. While
crunching more of the glassy adult
candy could’ve made steam kettles
of my mouth, nose and ears, the
nibbles were not as righteous as a
raw habanero itself.
Which is probably for the best
— a party that leaves revelers with
pangs of crippling indigestion isn’t
the kind you want to keep coming
back to. Here it was pleasure over
pain.
Still, sampling dish after dish,
the heat compounded. My cheeks
moistened, my tongue and throat
tingled, and the endorphins began
to fl ow. After the sampling session,
everyone seemed extra perky.
With a simple, buttery, toma-
to-based sauce, the shrimp gumbo,
with its big slices of sausage, was
the kind of comfort food I wanted
to eat big bowls of. In corn chip
bowls, the bite-sized Chipotle
Bacon Jam, ornamented with
a puff of jalapeño sour cream,
boasted multitudes. Sweet, gooey,
crisp, salty, savory and bite-sized,
they would make high-class Super
Bowl snacks.
cabinets. I couldn’t replicate it if I
tried.”
Others, though, were more
precise. The Fireballs were labored
over intently, twice baked, once
before and once after the appli-
cation of a sweet and sour glaze.
While not hot enough to make
you jam your aching tongue under
the faucet, they offered a fi ne
tinkle, compliments of habanero
and Fireball whisky. The same
could be said for the 20 Year Chili,
named for the fest’s anniversary.
With cubes of London broil, pork
and hamburger, no beans and only
scant veggies, it was a meat party.
The base was salty, with a tinge of
tomato and creeping heat. Again,
nothing too wild.
Of all the dishes, the hottest was
the Satan’s Sweets hard candy. Pre-
pared by Wes’ grandson, it came
in fi ve levels: from Mild Maple
to Strawbanero Orange. With an
“Extremely HOT” warning label,
the broken glass-like shards of
Strabanero were composed of
reduced habanero peppers. I had
a coin-sized nibble, which set my
Chipotle peppers too were
found in the Chipotle Pot De
Creme, which transferred spice’s
edgy essence into something
silky and smooth, a pudding-like
consistency. In a contest that was
mostly played down the middle,
the pot de creme was a tad subver-
sive, taking liberties with form.
There were two riffs on jerk
chicken, and I was absolutely
taken with the bone-in variety,
called “Jamaica Me ‘Hot.’” The
green, blended sauce was citrus-y,
vibrant and rewardingly complex.
The texture too was divine. I
asked its creator, Marco, about the
recipe, and he was happy to share.
The marinade included lime juice,
ginger, Worcestershire, allspice
berries, soy sauce, nutmeg, thyme,
brown sugar, habanero and a good
deal more. The recipe, Marco
said, is one he’s been pushing
and pulling at for years. It was,
however, the fi rst time he unveiled
it at the Fiery Foods Festival, a
competition in which he professes
to be the most-decorated winner.
And the care he put into these
wings was apparent; he created
the sauce days prior, to help it
deepen.
My ballot was as such: Mar-
co’s “Jamaica Me ‘Hot’” wings
first, the Chipotle Pot de Creme
second, the Chipotle Bacon
Jam chips in third. I wasn’t far
off. The official winners were
announced a few minutes later:
The Bacon Jam chips took high
honors, followed by Marco’s
Jamaican wings; Wes’ “20 Year
Chili” came in third.
And while bragging rights
will, I’m sure, be touted in the
weeks and months to come, it
became clear to me that the Fiery
Foods Festival is much more
about community, about coming
together and sharing over food.
“Where else are you going to
eat this well for $5?” one attend-
ee said. Where else, I wondered,
would relative strangers enjoy a
single meal and leave feeling like
family?