There are flames spreading up my nose, across my forehead and down my throat. My tastebuds have been vanquished, my mouth is a chamber of fire. I have signed a waiver once before for a taste test. Where is my waiver today?
This is level three of Buldak’s range of spicy ramyeon, also known as “fire noodles”. It’s one of three varieties of instant noodles manufactured by South Korea’s Samyang Foods, and recalled this week by Danish authorities for being too spicy. According to Denmark’s national food agency, the high levels of capsaicin in the noodles carry a risk of acute poisoning for consumers – particularly children.
But are these noodles toxic – or are they just too spicy for Danish tastes? Three Guardian Australia colleagues and I put the noodles to the test, sampling the “hot” chicken flavour (the mildest of the banned noodles) through to the “3 x spicy”, as denoted in bold letters (font: extra-large) on the packet (colour: fire-engine red) and the Buldak mascot (an angry-crying chicken with flames in its beak).
All noodles were prepared according to packet directions, using the full sachet of chilli flakes. Some servings were served at room temperature, others were reheated upon request. All tasters were supplied with a glass of full-cream milk, and easy access to tissues for wiping away sweat, snot and tears.
The takeaway? The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak. Guardian Australia reporters talked a big chilli game, but their bodies betrayed them.
Level one, hot chicken flavour: ‘Piquant’
“How bad could this really be?,” said one taster, who proclaimed a love of spicy food. This was an oft-repeated claim: “I enjoy spicy food/I always ask for extra-spicy/I add chilli to my meals.” But wouldn’t we all rather die on our feet than live on our knees?
For me the “hot” noodles tasted garlicky; chicken-y rather than chilli; savoury rather than spicy. The heat was confined only to my mouth.
“Piquant,” said one taster, after their first bite. “I would eat this for lunch.” There were no casualties.
Level two, 2 x spicy: ‘Lips: very burning’
Regret, superannuation and spice: these are things that accumulate over time. For most tasters, their second bite of these noodles marked a turning point in their spice journey, when the chilli-heat spread to their cheeks, heads and back of their necks, and burnt a trail of fire down their throats. “Time is not your friend when it comes to this,” said one.
“I think I’ve gotten a bit of sweat on the chopsticks,” said another. “Lips: very burning.”
One taster eyed their still-full glass of milk. “I don’t feel the need to go for any milk,” he said with bravado, as his eyes welled with tears. A moment later: “Let’s go for some milk.”
Level three, 3 x spicy: ‘I can see through time’
I don’t remember much about the level three noodles, but I do remember my soul leaving my body. Was it astral projection? Was it time-travel? I can’t say for sure, but I do remember seeing into the apocalyptic future when the world is on fire – just as my mouth and body was at that moment. I don’t recall the sensation of chewing on noodles – by then the starchiness and slurpiness of instant ramyeon had been annihilated by hellfire. “I can see through time,” I mumbled.
One tester disagreed, momentarily. “I still think this is fine. Maybe something’s wrong with me?” she said. She then took another mouthful of noodles, pulled back her chair from the table and walked off-set to compose herself. “I have sweaty eyelids!”
An errant noodle fell from another taster’s chopsticks. “I’ve dropped some on my hand. That might need treatment,” he said. He reached for some tissues to mop his glistening forehead.
As for whether the Danish authorities got it right with their recall:“Would we call this poison? It’s a bit of a stretch,” said one taster. “But poison isn’t always quick acting.”
Later, he provided a post-noodle update: “My face is now leaking,”
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