Dave’s Hot Chicken is a national chain that opened a DC branch in Columbia Heights earlier this year, and one aspect of its menu caught my eye: There are seven levels of spiciness offered, with the top level known as “the Reaper.” And the Reaper is so hot that they require you to sign a waiver before you can try it. “Eating the Reaper can cause you harm, including but not limited to, bodily injury, property damage, emotional distress, or even death.” How could I resist? I decided to head over for lunch and sign away my life, or at least my taste buds.
Dave’s itself is a pretty interesting setup. Large and hard to miss, the exterior has a sort of old, flashy theater look to it, while the interior is colorful, spacious, and decorated with interesting art pieces depicting America’s Founding Fathers as chickens. Rock music (A Flock of Seagulls, the Allman Brothers) blared through the speakers as orders were taken during a sleepy lunch hour.
Or at least it was sleepy before I ordered the Reaper. The moment that word left my mouth, the cashier hollered “WE GOT A REAPERRRR!!!” and the entire staff, kitchen included, followed suit. The gravity of the moment was evident. I ordered a chicken tender slider with cheese and a regular chicken tender, both at Reaper-level spiciness. The meal also came with pickles, Dave’s Hot Chicken sauce, and cheese fries, which had some of the Reaper spice on them, as well. It came to just under $20.
By this point, I was pretty nervous. That whole “death” thing, combined with the reverence (or was it fear?) that the workers at Dave’s seemed to hold for the Reaper, were weighing on me as I was handed my order on a tray. Ahead of time I’d Googled “how to prepare to eat very spicy food” and discovered a few tips. I was advised to first line my stomach with other food (I had some toast before I left home) and to order something other than soda, since carbonation only makes the spice more painful (I got a milkshake instead).
Finally, I sat at a table, picked up the sandwich, and took a really small nibble. It didn’t immediately knock me over, but it was evident from the first bite that something very bad was coming. The Reaper has an initial rich smokiness that lulled me into a false sense of security. Maybe I can handle my spice, I thought, or maybe the waiver thing was just a gimmick. Those notions vanished in about five seconds, as the spiciness made its way down my throat, up my nose, and just engulfed my entire respiratory system. It was extremely hot. Probably the hottest thing I’d had in a very long time, if not ever, and very worthy of a waiver requirement. I thought that eating the tender with bread and putting cheese on the slider would help with the pain, but those choices only delayed the inevitable. I started hiccuping, sweating, and crying, and my stomach felt like it was doing backflips. My mouth was in so much pain that I could barely form a coherent sentence, and I only took two bites! My only saving grace was the vanilla milkshake, which, it turned out, canceled out the Reaper’s effects almost immediately.
And that was it: After those two bites, I was done. I had tried the Reaper and survived, but putting more of that insane stuff into my mouth seemed impossible. I tossed the rest in the trash. After my experience, I think anyone who can actually finish the Reaper should get some form of compensation, or at least a hat or t-shirt. There is simply no way a normal person with functioning taste buds could eat that entire meal. I didn’t die, though, which is a positive. And the milkshake was super tasty. I drank the whole thing.
