The Sriracha Cha-Cha

When I heard last week about the legal action taken against the Huy Fong company in Rosemead, California—makers of the Sriracha sauce that conquered America, and rang up $60 million in sales last year—I had all kinds of mixed emotions.

First of all, I’m sympathetic to the Huy Fong neighbors who complained to the police about noxious red chile fumes emanating from the factory and into their home environments. How would you like to live with the heartbreak of capsaicin penetrating your life every day? And your children’s lives?

On the other hand, I am way into the legend of David Tran. He came to the U.S. from Vietnam, and had only one dream, he says: “to provide Vietnamese immigrants with a suitable hot sauce to complement the traditional phô soup.” He has been very unaggressive all along…no marketing program, no social media, never a hike in wholesale prices. And yet, somehow, he is rushing towards billionaireship. That’s quite a different ship from the Huy Fong, the ship that brought him as part of the “boat people” from Vietnam to the U.S. Today, Americans crave a dollop of Sriracha not just in their phô…but on their pizza, on their omelets, on their BBQ, on their hamburgers. It’s a wonderful modern version of the American dream. It’s hard to think of another product that rose like this out of nowhere, knocking on the door of Heinz ketchup and Tabasco.

But if I had a third hand…hell, I’ll pretend I do!…I’d start talking about my aesthetic response to David Tran’s product, which twists the story again. I am not a huge fan…which I shall discuss below.

For starters, let’s go back to the history of Sriracha. Many Americans believe that Huy Fong’s big red bottle, with the proud rooster etched in white on it, is Sriracha sauce. It is not. There are many other sauces called “Sriracha” that are available today in the U.S.

According to my research, Sriracha sauce—which is always red-orange—was first made about 80 years ago in a small coastal town in eastern Thailand; the town is named, appropriately enough, Sri Racha. Ms. Thanom Chakkapak was the first creator of this sauce—imbuing it with the red chiles and garlic that are still part of every Sriracha sauce today. After receiving positive feedback, Ms. Chakkapak manufactured her sauce commercially under the label Sriraja Panich and it became a best-seller in Thailand. For many years, it was difficult to find in the U.S…but I had no trouble last week when I set out to find it for my tasting.

Here are my notes on what I discovered in American food stores. I will discuss the sauces in exactly the order (going left to right) that you see in the photo above. It is AMAZING how different they are from each other—all in the name of Sriracha!

Huy Fong is one of the chunkier sauces—Americans like chunky!—and, with a few minutes on a plate, has the largest ring of separated oil around it. The tomato-purée-textured sauce has a decent red chile taste, a bare touch of sweetness, and a pretty solid jolt of chili heat. The flavors are fine, but the problem develops when that jolt of chile heat veers into bitterness in the finish.

Of course the famous Hong-Kong based producer of Chinese cooking sauces would get into the Sriracha game—but their sauce is manufactured in the USA, in City of Industry, CA, not in Hong Kong. It is also the chunky tomato-purée mode, like Huy Fong, and also sheds oil easily. But the color (as you can see above on dollop #2), is completely different—much darker, almost as if (to carry on the tomato analogy) it was made from sun-dried tomatoes. You feel the thickness much more in this sauce. And, no surprise, it has a distinct Chinese dimension in its flavor profile—tasting like Chinese bean sauce, and very much on the salty side. There is no finishing bitterness, which endears me—but this would never be a squirting or topping sauce. It is too thick.

The two Thai-made sauces in this tasting look a lot like each other (numbers 3 and 5)—and, essentially, taste a lot like each other. They are relatively mild, and each one has a good deal of sugar, making them the ketchup of the Sriracha world (also think about the sweet notes of Thai cuisine!) This one is a slightly darker orange and, if you can get the “ketchup” image out of your head, is pleasing. The chile taste is low, unfortunately, but the sugar and garlic are blended very harmoniously. No off-tastes.

I purchased this North Carolina sauce at Whole Foods; I’m sure they took it in because it’s organic. It also shouts “gluten-free” on the label, and sports a big rooster-like bird. Marketing! It is a darkish orange, a little darker than the Thai sauces, with a little more texture than they have. I find it rather complex, with the Chinese-type of salty bean sauce dimension. Is there a chipotle hint as well? Balance is excellent—sugar and heat in good proportion.

The other Thai sauce in my tasting—a very important sauce, since it’s the granddaddy of them all—is a big disappointment. Slightly lighter orange than the Aroy-D (the first Thai sauce), but brimming with what I perceive as “off flavors.” There’s a kind of string bean-peanut thing going on that doesn’t seem intentional. It is in, however, what seems to be the “classic Thai Style,” which is to say runny, sweet, and not too chili-oriented. Unless I’m not appreciating what someone might say is “the classic string bean taste,” I’m confused.

Made in California, this is a smooth, dark-range, runny sauce with a great predominating flavor: fresh-cut garlic! A little sweet and ketchupy, but the heat in the finish rides over the sweet, and brings a nice, not-too-aggressive flush to the mouth.

At the end of the tasting, I ranked the sauces thusly:

First place: Aroy-D Sriracha Chilli Sauce (Thailand)

Second place: Sky Valley Sriracha Sauce, by Organicville

Third place: Trader Joe’s Sriracha Sauce

Fourth place: Lee Kum Kee Sriracha Chili Sauce

Fifth place: Huy Fong Sriracha

Sixth place: Sriraja Panich Chilli Sauce (Thailand)

Overall, it’s a funny category. All the sauces I tasted had the same ingredients, but there really is great variety in the results. I guess the best thing about the Srirachas in general is how they add a little extra heat hit to your food that doesn’t taste like Tabasco. The worst thing, I suppose, is that a big chili taste—I don’t mean heat, but I mean a big capsicum taste—is not really a significant part of Sriracha world.

In closing…I can’t help but point out…if the taste of capsicum is your thing (as it is mine)…just wait until you see what we have in store next week! It’ll be the debut of the 2013 Varietal Chile Extractions from the Henry Family Farm in Shenandoah Valley, Virginia. This will be the second year of my hot-sauce collaboration with farmer Bob Henry—and I am very excited! The 2013 harvest was outstanding! The Extractions will be in my store very soon.