Craft hot sauce exploded in the US over a decade ago. If you’re into heat, it’s almost difficult these days not to find a peppery blend to match your taste. Despite small producers proving to be kind of the norm within the hot sauce sphere, it’s still frustratingly difficult to find many who take their ingredient sourcing seriously. Whether it’s hot sauce’s associated macho mentality or the fact that it’s ‘just a condiment’, to find an organic hot sauce that isn’t one of the few familiar health food store staples is a welcome surprise.
Whatever the reason, we were excited to find the minimalist-styled Yin Yang hot sauce on the shelves of a Denver Whole Foods. A Boulder-based company, they’ve apparently been around for over 10 years now and have yet to distribute outside the state of Colorado. We’re hoping that’s just due to a preference for localism on their part – it certainly isn’t because of a lack of quality.
Like most foods, there are of course already well-established hot sauce styles. But as the craft scene continues its steady growth in production and popularity, so do those sauces which defy easy categorization. Yin Yang, suiting its name, is light and dark, sharp and smoky, intense and simultaneously mild-mannered. It’s even tropical meets Midwestern – calling it just a ‘hot sauce’, might not even be entirely accurate, as it lies very much on the outskirts of traditional ‘hot sauce’ territory, bordering on BBQ and steak sauces as well (even in terms of viscosity). To put things more simply and satisfy curiosity, it’s closest relative is probably Jamaica’s iconic Pickapeppa. But instead of being fruit-heavy and relatively tame in terms of heat, Yin Yang stretches their shared elements in considerably different directions, inventing for itself a singular purposeful identity.
For the most part, this sauce is incredibly consistent – the entire story reveals itself nearly immediately. The tang comes first. Quickly, on its own, the vinegary brightness lays way for the heat which builds up to a point and then plateaus, satisfying the masochism inherent in hot sauce consumption, without leaving one scarred from the experience. The habaneros aren’t simply employed for pure capsaicin content, but also their tropical fruitiness, which binds with the mysterious ‘other’ fruit (their labeling doesn’t divulge any specifics – verifying even the habanero took a bit of research), and meets the smoky low-tones to round it out. You’re then left to ride out the echoing umami waves until the heat completes its quiet diminution.
To see how Yin Yang works, we paired it with a variety of super-simple dishes: fried eggs, hamburgers, mashed potatoes, and collard greens. With the fried eggs and hamburgers, adding only salt, it filled flavoural nooks and crannies that weren’t even necessarily there it was so perfect. The mashed potatoes pleasantly muted its highest parts, leaving the smoky richness to come through, bringing it especially close to its BBQ sauce cousins. And the collards, though they were least appropriate, were also great, simply requiring a bit more zing, for which we used a splash of ume vinegar. It doesn’t have quite the ridiculous flexibility of say, rooster sauce, which people put on or in everything from grilled cheese sandwiches to ice cream, but within certain bounds Yin Yang does have quite a bit of versatility, and in many contexts is even stellar.
Other ideas we had were: with corn on the cob, sautéed mushrooms, in place of chipotle in a chipotle ranch, on a Tex-Mex style salad or burrito, and in some combination with Emmentaler and pineapple.
Literally our one disappointment is that the peppers aren’t organic. For whatever reason, finding organic peppers does seem to be harder than most anything else, so we’re not surprised that they’re the only non-organic ingredients. With that said though, they aren’t impossible to find, and they’re becoming easier and easier to obtain. We hope that eventually Yin Yang’s choices will be reflective of the change.