Put 8-10 Red Hots In Your Mouth at the Same Time

An immodest proposal

Late-pandemic me has a lot in common with an early aughts emo band in that we both just want to feel alive. The closest I get to an endorphin rush these days is getting up from the couch too quickly after drinking a liter of seltzer.

So I was more excited than ever to fulfill my annual St. Valentine’s tradition: giving my tongue a chemical burn from eating an entire bag of Red Hots.

Red Hots are obstinate little candies the size of a nailhead and the color of red shellac. A serving size is 29, which is already stretching the limits of decorum. They smell like drugstore potpourri and taste like an old grudge. They are, in my mind, the zenith of confectionery.

I was too lazy to take down our Advent candles, so we’re observing the season of St. Adventine’s.

I should note upfront that Red Hots is a registered trademark of Ferrara—technically, I bought a bag of off-brand “cinnamon imperials.” But I’m not calling them that, just like I’m not calling Puffs “facial tissue.” We all have to do our part to keep trademark lawyers employed.

Here’s my pitch: I think you should buy a bag of Red Hots—today, or in a post-Valentine’s clearance sale—and I think you should put 8 to 10 of them in your mouth at the same time.

Red Hots are an exercise in collectivism. Any single ‘Hot isn’t going to do much but make your tongue blush. But get enough of them together—say, 8 to 10—and they’ll fuse together into a kind of Cinnamon Rat King, scalding your taste buds with a surge of sugar and heat. You’ll want to do it again—pop in another 8 to 10. The serving size is 29, after all.

And who eats just one serving of candy? Ascetics, that’s who. You may as well have two.

The goal of the exercise is a lingering ache, a chemical version of hot pizza on the roof of your mouth. The goal is to turn your taste buds to Braille. Of course it’s painful. It’s concentrated joy.

Lately, I’ve started thinking of myself less as a writer or home cook and more as a very large lab rat that’s gotten good at Pressing the Lever that Makes Something Happen—where “something” is just a sensation without any normative notion of “good” or “bad” attached to it.

It’s been 24 hours since I consumed my last Red Hot, and using mouthwash is still extremely painful. Still, I want to buy another bag. Nine Inch Nails’ “Hurt” is a song about Red Hots.

The Rebuttal

Maybe you’re a lab rat with a prefrontal cortex. Maybe you have enough self-control to put the Suffer Bag aside after you achieve your base burn. In that case, I have some other advice for you: make Red Hot cocktail syrup.

I should acknowledge that this is not the first time I’ve deconstructed Red Hots. The last time was for a Congressional Club Cookbook gelatin salad, though, which is emphatically not my fault.

I’m always on the prowl for new ways to make my drinks taste like a Yankee Candle, and this may be the most efficient. The dominant flavor is Red #40, but the candle-y undertones pulse malevolently underneath. It’s red, it’s rude, it’s got attitude. Mix it with whiskey and you’ve achieved Fireball—only without all the propylene glycol.

The method couldn’t be simpler: whisk equal parts Red Hots and water in a saucepan over medium heat until the candy melts and is fully incorporated.

I offer no defense for what you’re doing here, which is unmaking candy. But the resulting syrup is surprisingly versatile. For example, you can make a:

Red Hot Toddy

• 1 1/2 oz bourbon

• 3/4 oz Red Hot syrup

• 6-8 oz steaming water

• 1 cinnamon stick

Stir the bourbon and red hot syrup together, then add hot water to taste. Garnish with a cinnamon stick and use it as a straw.

I’m not a huge fan of ordinary hot toddies, but this was…fine. I used the Red Hot syrup later to make a cocktail with añejo tequila, lemon juice, and ginger beer, and it was way better. If you have the ingredients, I recommend going that route:

The Imperial

• 1 1/2 ounce añejo tequila¹

• 1 ounce lemon juice

• 1/2 ounce Red Hot Syrup

• Ginger beer

Stir first three ingredients together vigorously in a glass filled with ice. Top with as much ginger beer as you like (I probably used about four ounces).

Everything the syrup touches looks like a crime scene. It’s a feature, not a bug.

Alternately, you can just take a shot of whiskey and chase it by putting 8-10 Red Hots in your mouth at the same time.

Happy Valentine’s Day, food weirdos.

1. Añejo tequilas (functionally, “aged”) tend to have spicier, vanilla-y notes that work especially well here. YMMV with a fresher-faced tequila.