Chilli Rush

Heat-seekers can scorch their taste buds at Chilli Rush with fiery, fearsome fare that erupts up the Scoville scale with geyser-like fury.

Chicken wings are the red-hot specialty here, calibrated in increasing intensity from 1 to 10. The lowest level is for toddlers & the timid, while the peak of punishment contains Naga Jolokia, or the "ghost pepper," recognized by the Guinness Book of Records as the world's spiciest.

We kicked off with "Level 3" wings, soaked in a sauce that's slightly sweat-inducing, similar to many varieties of sambal that accompany nasi lemak.

Vegetarian wings, made of mock meat, with "Level 6" Habanero sauce. A few years ago, when Frontera first opened nearby at Jaya One, we brazenly chewed on pure Habanero chili there and ended up helplessly sprawled on the restaurant's sofa in a cold sweat for half an hour. Mercifully, we managed to maintain our dignity at Chilli Rush.

"Level 10" chicken wings, coated with northeastern India's Naga Jolokia chili. We only took several bites before surrendering. For comparison, Naga Jolokia has a Scoville rating of about 1 million heat units _ more than 10 times that of "cili padi." These wings crackle with a high-voltage spiciness that persists on the palate and burns slowly in the stomach. Even when hell freezes over, these babies might remain ablaze; too hot to handle, but way too cool to miss.

Beef burger, with house-made patty, punched up with a thin layer of "Level 5" sauce. The meat was deliciously lean, kinda like a cross between a steak and a regular burger patty.

Skittish about culinary pyrotechnics? Try something less penetratingly painful: spaghetti tossed in Indonesian gado-gado sauce with grilled chicken satay. Excellent, with every strand of the noodles blanketed in scene-stealing peanut gravy.

Anxious to cool down, we hopped over to The Bee for The Last Polka's current indulgences: strawberry cream cheese, French toast & coconut kaffir lime-flavored ice cream.