Hola, mi amigos, and happy tuesday again. This week, we’re looking at another salsa and it’s the last of the sauces that I got from Simpson’s Seeds. Their “Scorpion Salsa”:
A rather plain-looking bottle, to put it mildly, but one with rather more interesting contents. All of which are plastered across the front and sides of the paper label.
Personally, I think that’s a bad design. It’s visually bland, wraps around too far for us to see the whole name at once and, worst of all, has absolutely zero water or grease resistance. All issues that we saw on their other items but ones that I bring up again because they’re still relevant.
In fact, the last one is more relevant than ever before because, as a salsa, I’m using this sauce on tacos. A dish of fried, meat or bean filled tortillas, where my toppings are something of a free for all, in bowls all across the family dinner table. Ready for self-assembly, to match each individual’s tastes.
It’s a great way to eat – Especially when you have guests and you come from a house of picky eaters – but it’s not a great way to stay clean. Hands will invariably wind up covered in a sort of cheese and tomato sludge that gets on everything you touch.
So, before I go ahead and ruin the label, here’s the ingredients list from Simpson’s Seeds’ Scorpion Salsa:
Tomatoes, Cider Vinegar, Sugar, Onions, Scorpion Habanero Chillies (15%), Lemon Juice, Mandarins, Salt, Black Pepper, Mixed Herbs
And yes, once again, he’s listed his chillies as habaneros.
All the way back in twenty seventeen, before I did my research on the strain, I had no idea what this meant. I knew that there were a few different types of trinidad scorpion but, according to Matt Simpson, this was none of them. It was a milder, smooth-skinned, non-superhot that had the “scorpion” name first.
No such pepper exists.
After a lot of googling and document reading, I eventually came to realise that what he meant was the original trinidad scorpion strain. A smooth-skinned superhot – Which is a rare thing indeed – from which the gnarlier modern scorpions were bred.
It hails from trinidad and has a stinger – Hence the name – but not the bumpy skin of the refined Butch T, moruga, kraken and apocalypse strains. And it only rates a smidge over one point two million scoville. But it’s just as fruity and acidic in taste as the rest of its family, so I’m interested in seeing what it brings to a salsa, all the same.
The sauce is fast-flowing, yet sticky. Sweet with sugar and fruit, just like Matt’s Funky Monkey.
Yet, once again, the chillies aren’t the main event. It’s the blend of tomato, mandarin and the aged apple in the cider vinegar that shines through most, with the scorpions only playing a supporting role to that already almost sweet and sour, slightly citrussy, fruit flavour. And, of course, bringing the heat.
Not an insane one, mind you, but a real tingle across the tongue and a
in the back of my throat, both backed up by the same heavy use of black pepper seen in the Arrowhead.
There’s another herb here today, though. A strong, not-quite-mint flavour that I think might be epaƶoté. It’s an unusual choice but, honestly, I kind of like it. It’s a pleasant contrast to the tangy, tomatoey, fruit-based main taste.
And no, it’s not a sauce that I’m going to rave about but I definitely do enjoy it over tacos, enchiladas, salads and even, weirdly enough, my bolognese.
It’s certainly worth a try if you come across it and probably the best of my three from the company.