Growing up, there was a jar of pickled peppers in our kitchen that children were forbidden to open. It was kept right next to the maraschino cherries that we were also not allowed to eat. Course we opened both when no one was home. The mere smell of the peppers cleared my sinuses, made my eyes water and caused hallucinations.
As a pre-teen I visited family in Canada and finally learned the name of the peppers in the jar: scotch bonnet. A similar aged cousin delighted in introducing me to "real Caribbean food" by wandering into their garden, picking the peppers, shoving them in his mouth and inviting me to do the same. I can still recall the pain and wonder to this day why no one told me he practiced sleight of hand for fun. He also got me to drink an ice beaded glass of mauby concentrate. Apparently I was particularly stupid that summer.
Oh and if you've never tried mauby DON'T believe the fairy tale that it's "slightly bitter".....
On the bright side when Hunan cuisine became popular in NYC I amazed my non-island friends by eating the peppers whole whilst they gasped for soda. The soda grabbing was a bad idea but they learned eventually.
Thanks for the Scoville link; made me laugh;).