Trending hotter: Minnesotans looking for more spice, than nice, in their food

His Italian mother kept a jar of red pepper flakes on the table when Kevin Moot was growing up in Eden Prairie, so adding some kick to a dish became routine. As an adult, the 34-year-old software developer became a full-fledged fan of fiery food, but seldom found dining companions who shared his yen for cuisine that makes eyes water, noses run and heads sweat.

"I wanted to go out with people who wouldn't wimp out on me," he said.

Moot established the "Hot and Spicy Food Lovers Group" on Meetup, an online organization that helps people find and form interest groups. Four years later, his group has several hundred members who regularly visit restaurants willing to deliver when a patron asks to take it to the top level.

"It's an interesting mix of transplants, people of different ethnic backgrounds and plain old Minnesotans who are out of step with the white food thing," he said. "We've eaten Cajun, Caribbean, Vietnamese, restaurants I never would have heard of."

The classic joke about Ole and Lena finding ketchup a tad too tangy is sounding more outdated these days. Across the Minnesota food scene, purveyors are breaking out the burn for customers who are willing, even eager, to push beyond the bland German-Scandinavian tradition that has long defined the state's palate.

There's an emerging body of research that looks at how and why some people choose to feel the burn. Taste scientists have concluded that greater exposure to capsaicin, the chemical that gives peppers their fire, leads to the ability to tolerate and then crave it.

That exposure typically starts in childhood.

"If you're a little kid in Mexico or Thailand, your family is eating chiles, so you're going to, too," said Zata Vickers, professor of food science and nutrition at the University of Minnesota. She runs the Sensory Center, which tests reaction to foods and flavors for university researchers and private companies.

"It's not that people eat what they like. Instead, they like what they eat. Or rather, they like what they've been fed," said Vickers. "What we eat repeatedly we are socialized to like."

As Minnesota's homogeneous population has broadened with more newcomers from around the globe, Vickers sees diversity extending to the table.

"Kids eat at dinner with friends who've come from a different culture. Immigrants move in and schools adjust to serve their foods," Vickers said. "What's likely to cross a young person's plate is different than it was a few decades ago."

When Supenn Harrison opened Minnesota's first Thai restaurant in 1978, her father had to mail her authentic spices from her native village in a northern province of Thailand. There was so little understanding of Asian cuisine that many of her early patrons at the Siam Cafe thought they were eating the traditional food of Taiwan.

"Everybody wanted chow mein. That was all they knew," she said.

Harrison, now 69, recalled that she had to tone down the spice level to practically zero to make it acceptable to diners. When she opened the first Sawatdee restaurant in Lowertown in St. Paul in 1983, she had few takers for even the lowest-level heat.

"We had to educate people, and that takes time," said Harrison, who oversees six Minnesota Sawatdees and teaches and writes about Thai cooking.

Harrison's two daughters are involved with running the restaurants that feature Supenn's recipes, with custom spice options that range from zero to five, a level that clears sinuses and practically blisters the tongue.

"Even 10 years ago, we seldom had someone who'd order a five," said Cyndy Harrison, 35, who grew up working at the family restaurants. "Now it happens every day."

Increasing the heat is more complicated than it might sound.

"In the kitchen, we mix peppers with vinegar and sugar, some garlic and other spices," explained Cyndy Harrison. "You don't just put in a bigger spoon of spices, you have to change the ingredient aspect so the balance is right."

"Balance" is a word that hot sauce entrepreneur Rob Glacier uses repeatedly. His handcrafted Nuclear Nectar sauce, sold at co-ops and farmers markets, uses his original recipe, developed through trial and error. He cooks fruity hot peppers from the Yucatan in a vinegar brine, using carrots to anchor the sweetness and garlic to accent the heat.

"Hot food awakens your senses. It can enhance what you're tasting. It's a fine line. If you overstimulate, you don't taste anything. When it's done artfully, it can elevate flavor. It can be transcendent, a marriage made in hell," he said.

Glacier, 26, is a one-man hot sauce band. He turns out small batches of his sauce in a commercial kitchen in northeast Minneapolis, then promotes it with an evangelist's zeal.

Like an evangelist, he doesn't always make a conversion.

"When I'm out offering samples, it's mostly no's. The bland Protestant palate is still very much a thing — people almost run away from me," he said. "I get the most satisfaction when someone decides to give it a try and sees they might like it. "Breaking hot" I call it," Glacier said.

The food industry is producing more products to capitalize on the wider demand for the pepper punch.

We've watched this evolution from Tabasco to Sriracha to condiments that get it hotter than hot," said Matt Wilson, global trend manager for General Mills. "We're seeing spicy becoming popular as one element of a recipe — for example, spicy plus hot plus smoky. Our palates are getting more complex."

The Golden Valley-based food giant is offering more options for customers who like it hot, with a spicier evolution of its branded lines: jalapeño popper style Totino pizza rolls, Green Giant sautés with chipotle or Indian seasoning packets, Helper (formerly Hamburger Helper) in regular or bold, even spicy Chex Mix.

General Mills tracks menus from around the country to spot emerging flavors and combinations. One company providing data to General Mills noted that ghost peppers, considered the hottest of the hot peppers, have increased as an ingredient by 40 percent in just one year.

Younger consumers appear more likely to seek out spicier fare, whether they're eating out or cooking at home.

"Having grown up with more choice, more customized options, and better access to ingredients and dishes from all corners of the globe, millennials in general don't fear the unfamiliar," said Emily Moquin, a consumer strategist who tracks food trends for CEB Iconoculture. "They place high value on experience, curiosity and sharing."

And that can only mean that the quest for fire will expand — remember, what you eat in childhood often develops into a lifelong preference.

"If millennials are more adventurous, their children will be raised trying different things and exploring the spiciness palate," said Matt Wilson of General Mills. "They will be more receptive to having it later."

Kevyn Burger is a freelance writer and newscaster at BringMeTheNews.com.