Chilli Factor

Growing chillies in Tasmania is about extremes, writes Paulette Whitney, braving the cold in pursuit of heat.

- Paulette Whitney

It was cold enough to make sowing warmth-loving seeds seem ridiculous. But with the short growing season we have at 43 degrees south, the task couldn’t be put off if we hoped to reap a harvest come summer. And nothing is more warming than a larderful of dried, fermented and pickled peppers in glowing red jars.

Cayenne peppers are our bread and butter. They thrive in our short summers, and their thin flesh dries quickly to a glossy, translucent red, revealing tiny seeds inside. They’re hot but not too hot – perfect for chilli wimps like me who feign bravado but run for their hankies when things get spicy. We’ll toast and grind them for curry pastes or put a handful whole into a roasting pan of chopped up chicken, spring onions and ginger for a “choose your own adventure” dinner – the kids can avoid the peppers, sodden with delicious pan juices, and our heat-loving guests can launch them, Cleopatra-grape-eating style, down their throats, while I aim for something in the middle.