Neither sweet, nor sour. I’m left feeling excluded from the age old debate regarding preferred flavor profile. My food cravings do not fit neatly into a binary world of savory potato chips and sugary ice cream. Rather, my palette yearns for flavor filled with complexity and heat. The irrefutable rush of Cholula hot sauce is on my mind at almost all hours of the day. I’m concerned that my pediatrician will soon inform me that my blood-cholula levels are dangerously high! And if I were to slice my finger, I’m sure that a small burnt-orange drop of the most incredible dipping sauce in the world would appear. Cholula isn’t just an additive to a meal, it is the meal. At every restaurant I attend, I find myself searching for the iconic glass bottle with the gumdrop-esque wooden top. Cholula takes the ordinary, and transforms it. Each day I strive to “add the Cholula” to as many things as I can. If at first a food seems bland, I can shift my whole perspective by adding the sauce, finding multiple dimensions of flavor that I’d failed to recognize before. It’s possible that I would feel the same about Cholula on cardboard. Still, I commit myself to the spice, even the risk of over-spicing, because when I look back on any given  experience, what I’m going to remember are the moments when I challenged ideas, broke boundaries, and shattered expectations...and added hot sauce.