HOWL

Fermented chilli sauce

Bring it to the table

Fermented chilli sauce. Three bottles.

The sauce that makes the table lean in.

One chilli split open, seeds and oil filling the frame.

Heat you want to taste now.

Fermented slowly. Bottled raw.

Three ferments. One recipe each.

A glass ferment jar on a steel bench with an airlock on top.
Green. Week three.
A second jar holding a darker mash, a hand resting on the lid.
Red. Week seven.
A third jar tipped toward the light with bubbles against the glass.
Black. Week twelve.
Sauce leaving the bottle and landing on the rim of a white bowl.

It lands, and it spreads.

Small batch

Ninety days in oak

Bottled at the source

A wok under strip light with the frame two thirds full of vapour.

The kitchen fills with it.

Three hands entering from three edges of the frame toward one bowl.

Everyone reaches at once.

Three bottles. Three kinds of heat.

The green bottle upright on a wet steel counter.

Green

Bright and fast. Lime, green chilli, salt.

The red bottle on the same counter under the same light.

Red

Deep and long. Smoked chilli, garlic, vinegar.

The black bottle on the same counter, turned slightly.

Black

Slow and dark. Charred chilli, molasses, tamarind.

A bottle held in one hand at chest height with market lights behind it.

HOWL, in the hand.

A long shared table shot down its length, packed, bottles between the plates.

The table gets smaller as the night goes on.

It changes the whole table.

The heat lands, and the room answers.

One person at the moment the heat lands, eyes shut, laughing.
A second person reaching for water and still grinning.
A third person going back in for another spoonful.
One bottle alone on an empty table under a single cold overhead light.

One bottle. One table. Everything ready.

The table closes in.

The three bottle set together, front on, packaging visible.

Bring it to the table.

Three bottles. Green, red, black. One box.

Bring it to the table