What's the Spiciest Dish Globally? Are Filipino Dishes Spicy?

Several THD Residents have asked me if Filipino Food is Spicy. My Answer is No, but there are some dishes specifically from the 💚Bicol region that may be considered spicy. So What are the spiciest dish globally? Here's the Answer:  

Spiciest Dishes Globally

Determining the spiciest dish globally is subjective, as people have different tolerance levels for spiciness. However, some cuisines stand out for their bold flavors and intense heat.

Spiciest Cuisines:

Thai Cuisine: Thai dishes like Tom Yum soup and Som Tam (papaya salad) are known for their spicy kick, thanks to ingredients like bird's eye chilies.

Sichuan Cuisine: Sichuan dishes like Mapo Tofu and hotpot are famous for their numbing and spicy sensation, caused by Sichuan peppercorns and dried red chilies.

Indian Cuisine: Indian dishes like Vindaloo and curries are known for their bold flavors and heat, thanks to ingredients like red and green chilies, black pepper, and spices.

Korean Cuisine: Korean dishes like Kimchi and spicy stir-fries often feature gochugaru (red pepper flakes) and gochujang (chili paste) for added heat.

Some specific dishes that are notoriously spicy include ¹ ²:

Trinidadian Pepper Roti: A Caribbean flatbread filled with spicy meat or vegetables, often served with a side of hot sauce.

Sri Lankan Pol Sambol: A spicy coconut-based condiment made with chilies, onions, and sometimes Maldive fish.

I have devoured the following Cuisine during My Younger Years: 

Korean Kimchi: A traditional side dish made from fermented vegetables, usually cabbage or radishes, seasoned with chili peppers, garlic, and other spices.

Sichuan Mapo Tofu: A spicy Sichuan dish made with tofu, ground meat (usually pork or beef), and a variety of spices and chilies.

The above  are just a few examples, and the spiciest dish is ultimately a matter of personal preference. If you're looking to try something new, consider starting with milder dishes and gradually increasing the heat level to find your limit.

The Bicol Express Dish💜 You could regulate the Hotness of this dish by adding less chili peppers but more coconut milk. I love this dish ( medium Hotness)  

Meanwhile, here's the AI Overview on Spiciest Filipino Dishes:  

While Filipino cuisine is generally known for its sweet, sour, and salty profiles, the 💚

Bicol region

 is the exception, famous for its fiery dishes.

The title for the spiciest Filipino dish typically goes to:

• Bicol Express (Sinilihan):💜 Often cited as the most popular spicy dish in the Philippines. It is a rich, creamy stew made from pork, coconut milk, and shrimp paste, but its defining feature is the sheer volume of siling labuyo (native bird's eye chili) or siling haba (finger chilies).
• Gulay na Lada / Sinilihan: Many locals consider the authentic Bicolano version, Sinilihan, to be even spicier than the standard Bicol Express. It uses a higher ratio of chilies to meat, sometimes appearing more like a chili stew than a pork dish.
• Hinalang: Popular in Mindanao, this is a beef or pork soup similar to Nilaga but heavily infused with ginger and a massive amount of chili peppers, designed to be "explosively" hot.
• Gising-Gising: A vegetable dish made of chopped winged beans (sigarilyas) or green beans cooked in coconut milk. While it looks mild, it is "spicy by default" and can often surpass Bicol Express in heat depending on the cook.
• Laing: Another Bicolano staple consisting of dried taro leaves simmered in coconut milk with shrimp or pork. While it can be mild, traditional versions are packed with enough siling labuyo to provide a slow, intense burn. 

Finally, Here's the Scoville Pepper Scale Ranking:

I love the Poblano Peppers for My Chili Relleno Dish  

My Reel of the Day: Simple Recipe for Kare-Kare

 https://www.facebook.com/reel/4351267025190874

Has AI reached the “Super Intelligence” Status?

From My CNN Readings: My Food For Thought for Today: 

Food for Thought: Has AI Quietly Crossed a Line We Once Thought It Never Would?

Every so often, a technological moment arrives not with a bang, but with a shiver, the kind that makes you pause mid-sentence and think, something has changed. That feeling is captured well in a recent reflection reported by CNN, where a writer describes working with a newly released AI model, GPT-5.3 Codex and realizing it was no longer just following instructions.

It was choosing. Not in the cold, mechanical way we’ve grown used to, but in a manner that felt unsettlingly human. The author described it as judgment. Taste. That hard-to-define sense of knowing what the right call is, the very quality experts once insisted machines would never possess.

So the question naturally follows: Has AI already crossed into something that looks like “super intelligence,” or are we simply projecting our own instincts onto a very advanced tool?

The Answer: Not Super Intelligence- But Something New

ChatGPT believe AI has not reached true super intelligence. What it has reached, however, is something far more subtle and perhaps more consequential: the ability to convincingly simulate human judgment.

That distinction matters,  philosophically, ethically, and practically.

Today’s most advanced models, built by companies like OpenAI, don’t “know” in the way humans know. They don’t reflect on childhood memories, wrestle with moral doubt, or carry the weight of lived experience across decades. But they do recognize patterns in human decision-making at a scale no person ever could. And when those patterns are expressed smoothly, confidently, they begin to feel like wisdom.

To the user, the difference between real judgment and an almost perfect imitation can start to fade. And that’s where things get interesting.

Why This Moment Feels Different

For years, AI was framed as a tool: faster calculators, smarter search engines, better autocomplete. Useful, impressive but clearly bounded.

What has shifted is not raw intelligence, but agency. When a system:

• weighs multiple options,

• anticipates consequences,

• and selects a course of action that aligns with human values,

it stops feeling like software and starts feeling like a collaborator. That doesn’t mean the machine has consciousness. It means we are no longer the only ones in the room making decisions.

A Personal Reflection

Having lived long enough to see television arrive in black and white, computers shrink from rooms to pockets, and the internet reshape human connection, I’ve learned this: the most powerful technologies don’t announce themselves loudly, they quietly change how we think.

AI today reminds me of earlier turning points. At first, we said:

• “It’s just a tool.”

• “It can’t replace human judgment.”

• “It will never really understand us.”

We’ve said those things before. Each time, history replied: maybe not fully but close enough to matter.

The Real Question We Should Be Asking

The question is no longer Can AI think like us? It is now: What happens when we begin to trust it as if it does?

Super intelligence isn’t just about machines becoming smarter than humans. It’s about humans slowly outsourcing judgment and growing comfortable doing so.

That transition may already be underway.  And whether this moment becomes a triumph or a cautionary tale won’t depend on what AI can do next but on how wisely we choose to use it.

As always, the future isn’t decided by technology alone. It’s decided by the people who place their faith in it. And that, to me, is the real food for thought today.

Meanwhile, here's the AI Overview on the Above topic

Based on the current landscape as of early 2026, the consensus among experts is shifting, with some leading voices suggesting Artificial General Intelligence (AGI)-often a precursor to "super intelligence" could arrive as early as 2026, while many others remain more cautious

. 

Here is a breakdown of the current "food for thought" regarding AI’s march toward super intelligence:

• 
  
• The Bullish View (2026-2029): Top AI researchers and CEOs, including Anthropic's Dario Amodei and xAI's Elon Musk, have indicated that highly capable, "human-level" AI systems could go online by the end of 2026. Proponents argue that the rapid scaling of transformer-based Large Language Models (LLMs) and increased compute power are accelerating the timeline, with some models already showing PhD-level reasoning in specialized fields.
• The "Slow Down" Camp: Conversely, many experts argue that we are nowhere near true "super intelligence". While AI is advancing rapidly, skeptics note that current systems still struggle with long-term planning, reliability, and true understanding. Many, including DeepMind CEO Demis Hassabis, have previously indicated a 5–10 year horizon (putting it closer to 2030–2035).
• Defining the Goal: There is significant debate over what "super intelligence" means. Some prefer the term "powerful AI" or AGI (systems that perform at least as well as humans at most tasks) over the more speculative "super intelligence".
• The Shift to Evaluation (2026): Stanford experts suggest 2026 will mark a transition from "AI evangelism" to "AI evaluation," where the focus shifts from hype to measuring the actual utility, safety, and economic impact of AI.
• Schumer’s Regulatory Perspective: U.S. Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer has highlighted that AI is moving at "near exponential speed" and that Congress must act quickly to set "guardrails". Schumer has argued that without safety measures, the risks such as job displacement, bias, and national security threats could threaten to halt AI progress altogether. 

While the potential for 2026 is being discussed, it is not universally accepted as a certainty, with 2030-2040 being a more commonly cited range in broader, long-term expert surveys. 

Lastly, My Photo of the Day: 

My AI Generated Oil Portrait copied from a recent Photo:

Three Nights, One Planet: When Faith and Culture Meet

Three Nights, One Planet: When Faith and Culture Meet

Today is one of those rare moments when the calendar itself feels symbolic. Across the globe, millions of people are marking Chinese Lunar New Year, celebrating Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and preparing for the Eve of Ramadan. These three observances arise from very different histories, faith traditions, and geographies, yet together, they tell a remarkably unified story about humanity.

They remind us that while our rituals may differ, our reasons for gathering are strikingly similar.

1. Chinese Lunar New Year: Renewal and Ancestral Memory

Chinese Lunar New Year, often called Spring Festival, is rooted in centuries-old traditions shaped by Confucian, Taoist, and Buddhist thought. It is less about doctrine and more about continuity, honoring ancestors, strengthening family bonds, and resetting one’s moral and emotional compass for the year ahead.

Red lanterns, fireworks, reunion dinners, and careful rituals all point to a shared human instinct: to begin again with intention. In many homes, this is the most important family gathering of the year, a reminder that culture can carry spiritual weight even without formal religion.

2. Mardi Gras: Celebration Before Reflection

Mardi Gras,“Fat Tuesday”, has its roots in the Christian calendar, marking the final day of feasting before the solemn season of Lent. In New Orleans, it has evolved into something broader: a public expression of joy, music, satire, and community identity.

Parades, beads, and masquerades may look purely festive, but historically Mardi Gras exists because discipline is coming next. It acknowledges a universal rhythm found in many religions: celebration balanced by restraint, indulgence followed by reflection.

Culture takes theology and gives it color, sound, and movement.

3. The Eve of Ramadan: Quiet Preparation and Inner Reset

As the moon is sighted, Muslims around the world prepare for Ramadan, a month centered on fasting, prayer, charity, and self-discipline. Unlike Mardi Gras, the Eve of Ramadan is often quiet, inward, and contemplative.

Yet the purpose is familiar: renewal. Ramadan is not just about abstaining from food, but about recalibrating one’s relationship with God, community, and conscience. It is a reminder that spiritual growth often begins with intention, not spectacle.

A Shared Human Pattern

What connects these three moments is not geography or theology, but timing and purpose.

• All three mark transitions

• All three blend belief with culture

• All three emphasize community

• All three ask us to pause—either in joy, restraint, or reflection

One begins with fireworks, one with parades, one with silence. But each, in its own way, is about resetting the human spirit.

In a world often divided by religion and tradition, today offers a quieter truth: faith and culture are not walls that separate us, but languages that express the same human needs, belonging, meaning, hope, and renewal.

Three holidays. Three traditions. One shared planet, turning together toward a new chapter.

Meanwhile, here's the AI Overview on the Above Topic: 

Chinese Lunar New Year, Mardi Gras in New Orleans, and the eve of Ramadan rarely fall together on the same sunset-to-sunset horizon, yet in 2026 they brush past each other in a 24‑hour window that feels like a miniature world map of faith and festivity. One marks a new year, one closes a season of revelry, and one opens a month of fasting, three different calendars, three different theologies, but a surprisingly shared grammar of time, food, family, and hope.

Three holidays, three calendars

Chinese Lunar New Year in 2026 begins on Tuesday, February 17, with the first new moon of the lunar year and ushers in the Year of the Fire Horse, with celebrations extending through the Lantern Festival in early March. Mardi Gras, literally “Fat Tuesday”, also falls on February 17, 2026, closing the Carnival season that runs from Epiphany on January 6 to the eve of Ash Wednesday in the Christian calendar. Ramadan in 2026 is projected to begin on February 18 or 19, its exact start depending on the sighting of the new moon that marks the ninth month of the Islamic lunar calendar.

Each of these days sits at a hinge in sacred time: Lunar New Year opens a two‑week stretch of renewal; Mardi Gras ends weeks of feasting before the Christian fast of Lent; Ramadan’s crescent moon signals an entire month of fasting, prayer, and night‑time joy for Muslims worldwide. In different ways, all three tell communities: the old cycle is ending, a new one is about to begin live this transition with intention.

Feasting, fasting, and the sacred table

If you walk through a Chinese home on Lunar New Year, a New Orleans street on Mardi Gras, and a Muslim neighborhood on the eve of Ramadan, the first thing that hits you is not doctrine but the table. Lunar New Year is anchored by the “reunion dinner,” where families gather around abundant dishes, often symbolizing prosperity, longevity, and togetherness. Mardi Gras is inseparable from king cake, rich meats, and the last indulgent meals before Christians shift to the leaner discipline of Lent on Ash Wednesday. Ramadan transforms the daily rhythm of food: daylight hours without eating or drinking, then iftar meals at sunset that are often communal, festive, and shared with neighbors and the poor.

In all three, food is never just fuel; it is theology in edible form, telling stories about generosity, restraint, memory, and the kind of society people want to build. Lunar New Year dishes whisper, “May there be enough for everyone this year”; Mardi Gras feasts say, “We will celebrate before we repent”; and Ramadan’s alternating hunger and hospitality say, “We remember those who lack, and we discipline our own desires so we can be more generous.”

Masks, lanterns, and the public square

These three observances also spill out into the streets, turning religion into something you can see, hear, and touch in the public square. Lunar New Year parades with lions and dragons, fireworks, and red lanterns transform cities from Hong Kong to San Francisco into corridors of shared spectacle that invite even outsiders to participate. Mardi Gras in New Orleans, with its krewes, floats, beads, music, and the unique traditions of Black Masking Mardi Gras Indians, turns an old Catholic pre‑Lent observance into one of America’s most iconic civic rituals. Ramadan, though quieter by daylight, changes the rhythm of entire cities in Muslim-majority countries, with streets coming alive at night for communal prayers, sweets, and pre‑dawn suhoor meals.

In each case, the body and the city become part of the liturgy: costumes and masks, lanterns and firecrackers, the call to prayer and procession routes all say that belief should touch not only private hearts but shared spaces. These practices also show how porous the line is between “religious” and “cultural”, many who no longer identify strongly with a tradition still attend Lunar New Year banquets, watch Mardi Gras parades, or join friends for an iftar, because the celebration has become part of their civic and family identity.

Time, discipline, and the human heart

Underneath the food and color, all three festivals are really about time, how communities choose to mark it, and what they believe time is for. The Chinese lunisolar calendar ties human life to the cycles of moon and season, with zodiac animals like the Fire Horse offering symbolic language for personality, fortune, and the character of the year. The Christian liturgical calendar behind Mardi Gras and Lent moves through feasting, fasting, and feasting again (Lent to Easter), suggesting that spiritual growth requires both joy and sacrifice. The Islamic lunar calendar, in which Ramadan “moves” through the solar year, reminds Muslims that discipline and compassion are not bound to any one season; the sacred can fall in summer heat or winter nights alike.

When Lunar New Year, Mardi Gras, and the eve of Ramadan converge, they offer a small meditation on the human heart’s need for rhythm: times to gather and times to pull back, days of noise and nights of quiet, seasons of indulgence and seasons of restraint. Whether one believes in many gods, one God, or none, these calendars sketch the same insight in different scripts: we are shaped by what we repeat, by the rituals we keep, and by the way we move, together, through the year.

A small planet seen from one day

There is something almost poetic about a single date on the secular Gregorian calendar, February 17–18, 2026, holding a Chinese new year, a Catholic-inflected carnival climax, and the threshold of Islam’s most sacred month. On this brief stretch of time, one family may be lighting firecrackers to banish last year’s bad luck, another dancing behind a Mardi Gras float, and another scanning the sky for the faint line of a new crescent.

For a global reader, the interconnection is not that all religions teach the same thing, but that all peoples wrestle with the same questions: How do we mark beginnings and endings? How do we hold joy and responsibility together? How do we remember that life is both gift and task? When Chinese Lunar New Year, Mardi Gras, and the eve of Ramadan stand side by side, they offer not a blended “world religion,” but a chorus, a reminder that, across cultures, we keep turning to story, symbol, and shared meals to say: another year, another season, another chance to live more justly and more lovingly with one another.