106 E 25th Ave
San Mateo, CA 94497
(650) 522-9800
Category: Bars, Burgers
Since moving to the bay area, I've kept a mental list of places I really need to try because of something uniquely gimmicky and intriguing about the place.
I read an article in SF Gate, watched a program on KRON, and heard from multiple friends about some pub in San Mateo where masochists and sadists alike come to suffer/celebrate or torture others via the consumption of habanero burgers. Of course, I immediately forgot the name of the place and my mind went wild contemplating the thrill and challenge of eating one of those famed fire patties.
My boyfriend and I found ourselves in San Mateo, and we happened upon a place he recognized as The Prince of Wales Pub. He told me tales of how he frequented it with his co-workers to haze newbies with the habanero burgers, and my imaginary antennae readjusted as the memory of wanting a habanero burger from the Peninsula rushed into my head.
I had never been to The Prince of Wales, so I can't compare The Swingin Door to its predecessor in terms of decor, service, clientele, etc. Didn't know about the history of the PoW or the drama that accompanied the change of ownership. I only had two things on my mind: Pleasure and Pain.
I could barely contain my rising excitement over finally challenging my tastebuds with the very burger that seared humility into hundreds of blubbering, temporarily reformed, tough guys. At the same time I was overwhelmed with anxiety over the inevitable delayed bowel damage that would result due to my self-imposed punishing.
My boyfriend told me that ice cream is sold at the bar to ease the hot, but remembering my curse of lactose intolerance, I stuck to the tall cool glass of Stella Artois instead. HAAAAAAAAA!!! ... as if there wouldn't already by enough damage done to my insides by the rectum-scorching hot sauce!!!
I overheard a friend of the bartender complaining about how someone's Yelp review claimed that fried pickles were no longer served at the bar and ... yada yada yada ... my brain was already daydreaming about fried pickles so I didn't hear the rest of his diatribe. I wiped the anticipatory drool off my chin, walked over to the bar and ordered myself a basket of English Wallys.
Crispy batter + pickle spears, hot and slick with oil = crazy delicious... screw Mr. Pibb and Red Vines!The moment of truth came, and I was a little disappointed by the lack of fanfare. The sauce-topped burger sat very unthreateningly on an ordinary bun. There were no flames dancing menacingly atop the patty. A cartoon version of the devil with a pitchfork didn't magically appear on the table to talk smack while I conjured the courage to take my first bite.
Like prior reviewers noted, the hot takes a minute to hit you before augmenting, it's best to just plow through and keep eating until you're finished, and it doesn't feel as painful as you would have thought once the sweating and swelling go down. :P
On a pain scale of 10, the burger tastes like a 5 or 6 going in ... but the sucker feels like an 8 or 9 coming out. Ouchie for your poopie.
P.S. It's worth noting that my non-foodloving boyfriend said that the seasoning for their cajun fries was really good and he devoured almost everything in his basket. http://www.yelp.com/user...
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