Frank’s Red Hot VS. Louisiana Hot Sauce

Kenneth and Ramirez Talk America(A Fictional Discussion)

Session# 6

Denver, Colorado

Late November

LUNCHTIME

“Fucking freezing outside,” Ramirez said, taking his gloves off, setting them on the diner table, and rubbing his chilled hands together. “Worst kind of day for demolition work.”

“Perfect day for hot wings though,” his best friend and roommate Kenneth said, removing his own gloves.

They put in their respective orders for ten hot wings apiece.

“You know,” Ramirez said. “I’ve been wondering something.” He was holding a bottle of Louisiana hot sauce, examining the label. “What do you think is the best hot sauce? Louisiana hot sauce or Frank’s Red Hot?”

Kenneth took note of something interesting, picking up a bottle of Frank’s Red Hot that happened to be on his side of the table.

“Wow, crazy how there’s two different kinds at one table. The ones you asked about. Did you notice?”

“I do now,” Ramirez said. “It just means that this conversation was meant to happen.”

“Well,” Kenneth said, setting the Frank’s Red Hot down. “Frank’s. That’s the answer to that. Has the best flavor. Louisiana just has more of a kick, which is good but not enough to make it my favorite hot sauce.”

Ramirez shook his head, smiling a little. “How’d I know you were going to say some bullshit like that? First thing, it’s not just an extra kick that Louisiana hot sauce has, let me just start there, Ken. Yo, you’re really just going to sit there and act like Red Hot taste better. Fuckin’ garlicky ass taste. Really?”

“Red Hot’s clearly better,” Kenneth said, “and you’re out of your mind to say different.”

“Because I like my hot sauce to have spice and flavor?”

“There’s a reason it’s ranked as the number two hot sauce. Two!”

“You don’t know that,” Ramirez said.

“It’s what I read. And as far as I can remember there was no mention of Louisiana hot sauce on that list. Frank’s Red Hot has been a staple. I saw Kid Rock with a bottle on an interview he did eight years ago. When’s the last time you’ve seen a celebrity using Louisiana hot sauce?”

The wings arrived and the friends began to eat.

“First thing,” Ramirez said, after taking a bite of his wing. “Just because you saw one celebrity with a bottle of Frank’s Red Hot, doesn’t mean anything. There’s also celebrities who jack up their faces to look like monsters just because they think it will be sexy to the media and the public, so what the hell do I care what a celebrity thinks? And plus, I think I know the interview you were talking about and I didn’t see him eat any.”

Kenneth wiped his mouth with a napkin. “If he has the damn bottle of hot sauce in his house when he’s being interviewed, why wouldn’t he be using it? You think the bottle was decorative?”

“Like I said, I didn’t see him using it. So it doesn’t count. And even if he was using Red Hot it doesn’t mean that it tasted good. Come on, we’re going to use Kid Rock as the benchmark? He probably uses hot sauce for fuckin’ mayonnaise sandwiches.”

Kenneth chuckled, his mouth full of food. After swallowing what was in his mouth he said,

“I was half just fucking around, but Red Hot has a better flavor. More intense flavor too. Good enough to drink, in fact.”

“Oh, please.”

“I would.”

“Look,” Ramirez said. “Louisiana hot sauce is more heat based which makes it more of an authentic hot sauce, but it tastes better too if you ask me. Have you ever had it on fried catfish? Man…”

“I’ve had both on fried catfish,” Kenneth said, shaking his head, then taking another bite of his wing. “Nope.”

“And Louisiana hot sauce is from Louisiana — at least I think — and you know they make the best Southern food, which means they kill with spice.”

“It doesn’t mean that they have the best hot sauce. Tell me Ramirez, which hot sauce did you know about first?”

Ramirez considered for a moment. “Uh…you mean the first hot sauce that I found out about, right?”

Kenneth nodded.

“Frank’s Red Hot, I guess.”

“Well there you go.”

Ramirez burst out laughing. “Oh, come on, man. You know that doesn’t mean shit. Come on, man. There are two hundred thousand bottles of Louisiana hot sauce manufactured daily. What does that tell you?”

Kenneth furrowed his brow. “That’s an interesting tidbit. What, did you just look that up before we came to lunch? Preparing to talk about just this subject?”

Ramirez waved a dismissive hand. “Oh come on, man. I’ve been knowing that.”

Kenneth wiped his hands with a napkin, reached into his pocket, and extracted his cell phone.

“Oh come on,” Ramirez said. “You’re really going to Wikipedia some shit right now?”

“Hey, you want to bring up little intricate statistics, I can do the same. Just give me a — ”

“Could I get anything else for the two of you,” a waitress asked. “We have — ”

“Nah, we’re in the middle of something right now,” Ramirez said, waving her off with a hint of aggravation.

“All right,” Kenneth said, looking at the Frank’s Red Hot Wikipedia page. “Frank’s Red Hot recipe originated in 1896 and was produced as an official product from the Estilette Pepper farm in 1917 and went to market in 1920. From…Louisiana.”

Once again, Ramirez waved a dismissive hand. “I already read that shit. You know the recipe originated in Cincinnati Ohio though, right?”

“Don’t give a damn, it was first mass-produced in Louisiana.”

Ramirez raised an eyebrow. “That’s what it says, mass-produced or created?”

Kenneth blacked the screen on his cell phone, put it down on the table. He picked up another wing.

“I’m done with this conversation.”

“Yeah, cause you lost.”

“Red Hot has the more extensive history. There’s no way Louisiana hot sauce was around in the 1800s.”

“You don’t know that.”

Kenneth raised his eyebrows. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“No point. I already won.”

Kenneth laughed. “Yeah. Sure you did.”