When people ask me, “How many types of red chillies are there?” I usually laugh because that’s like asking, “How many types of songs are there?” It’s not a simple number you can pull off a shelf, especially when I’ve been sourcing red chillies for over a decade—talking to farmers in Mexico, India, Thailand, and even parts of Africa, and testing every pod that makes its way to my supplier bins. I get it, though. Most folks know red chillies as just “the spicy thing in my tacos” or “the hot sauce that makes my eyes water,” but there’s a whole world of varieties out there, and the count depends on who you ask. Let me break it down like I would to a new buyer who just walked into my warehouse, no stuffy jargon, just real stuff I’ve learned from growing and trading these little fireballs. Red Chilli

First, let’s get one thing straight: red chillies aren’t a single species. Most of the ones we care about are Capsicum annuum, which is the big one—think jalapeños, cayenne, and even the habanero (wait, no, habanero is Capsicum chinense, but we’ll get to that later). But scientists have identified around 30 Capsicum species total, right? Only 5 of them are actually used for food, and red chillies are just the ripe version of most of those. When a chilli starts green, it’s not ready to pick, so we wait for it to turn red—some take a week, some take months, depending on the variety.
Now, the part everyone wants to know: how many actual types? If you check a random website, you might see numbers like 200, or 400, or even 2,000. Here’s the thing: that range isn’t random. The confusion comes from how you define a “type.” Some experts count every distinct named variety that farmers have bred over hundreds of years—those are called landraces, the ones that get passed down through families, adapted to specific soil and weather in a small town in India or a village in Oaxaca. Other experts count every hybrid that seed companies sell, the ones bred for high yield or extra heat. Then there’s the wild ones, which scientists have documented, but most of us would never see on a grocery store shelf.
From my side as a supplier, I’m not here to argue with botanists. I’m here to tell you about the ones you actually care about— the ones that show up on menus, go into hot sauces, get dried or fresh or ground into powder. Let’s stick to those. I’d say I work with around 40 regularly, but I’ve had shipments of specialty ones that only come once a year, so that number creeps up to 60 or 70 if I’m counting every seasonal variety. Let’s talk about the most common ones that every buyer asks for, because that’s the stuff moves out of my door fast.
First, let’s start with the ones that don’t get enough love, maybe? Wait no, let’s go from mild to wild, because that’s how most people experience red chillies. If you’re looking for something that adds flavor without killing your taste buds, the Anaheim red is it. It’s the same as the green Anaheim, just left to ripen on the plant. It’s got a mild, almost sweet flavor, around 500 to 1,000 Scoville Heat Units (SHU)—that’s barely hotter than a bell pepper, for real. I sell a ton of these to restaurants that make salsas for people who don’t do super spicy food, and they’re also great for roasting. I source these from a farm in southern California that’s been growing them for 3 generations, so I know they’re consistent every year.
Next up, maybe the most iconic one: cayenne red. That’s the long, thin, bright red one you see dried in shakers at pizza places, right? It’s around 30,000 to 50,000 SHU—definitely spicy, but not so hot that it overpowers food. I use cayenne in a lot of my bulk orders for hot sauce makers, because it’s super reliable, and it dries really well without losing too much flavor. Fun fact: I once shipped a 500-pound pallet of red cayenne to a small hot sauce company in Brooklyn, and they told me it was the best batch they’d had in years—said the soil in the fields in Arkansas I source from gives it a little earthy kick that a lot of other cayennes don’t have.
Then there’s the guajillo red. Wait, guajillo is the dried version of the mirasol chilli, right? People mix these up all the time. It’s dark red, a little wrinkly, has a fruity, smoky flavor, around 2,500 to 5,000 SHU. I love guajillos because they’re so versatile—used in mole, in salsas, even in marinades for meat. A lot of Mexican restaurants swear by these, and I source a lot from farmers in Puebla, where they’ve been growing mirasols for centuries. I always make sure to check that they’re dried slowly, not too fast, because if you dry them too hot, they lose that deep fruity taste and just taste like plain spice.
Now, let’s get to the ones that bring the heat. Jalapeño red is super common. When you leave a green jalapeño on the plant until it turns red, it gets sweeter and a little spicier, around 5,000 to 8,000 SHU. I sell a lot of these fresh to local grocery stores, and also dried as chipotles—wait, chipotles are smoked jalapeños, right? Yep, that’s another type I stock. Chipotles have that smoky, almost chocolatey flavor that’s perfect for adobo sauce. A lot of people don’t realize that chipotles are just red jalapeños that have been smoked, so they’re technically a red chilli too.
Then there’s the serrano red. It’s smaller than a jalapeño, way thinner skin, super bright red, around 10,000 to 23,000 SHU. Serranos have a really sharp, bright heat, not the slow burn of a cayenne. I use these a lot for fresh salsas and ceviche, because their flavor cuts through fish really well. I source serranos from a farm in Veracruz, Mexico, and they’re picked super early in the morning, right after the dew dries, so they stay crisp longer in shipping—no sad, wilted chillies when they get to my warehouse.
If you want something way hotter, let’s talk about the Thai red chilli. Those little guys are only like an inch long, but they pack a punch—100,000 to 225,000 SHU. I once had a buyer from a Thai restaurant tell me that if you use too many of these, you can still taste the heat for three days. I believe it. They’re super aromatic too, with that citrusy, grassy flavor that’s key for tom yum soup and pad thai. I only bring in Thai red chillies during the cool season, because they don’t do well in extreme heat, and I make sure to pack them in ventilated crates so they don’t get moldy on the trip over.
Wait, and let’s not forget the habanero red. That’s the Capsicum chinense one I mentioned earlier. It’s that lantern-shaped one, bright red, around 100,000 to 350,000 SHU. That’s almost as hot as some of the superhots, right? Habaneros have that fruity, sometimes floral flavor, so they’re perfect for hot sauces that are meant to be both spicy and tasty. I once had a craft hot sauce maker come to me and say they wanted to make a habanero hot sauce that didn’t just taste like fire, and we tweaked the batch to have a little bit of mango to balance it out—best seller they ever had, they told me.
Now, the superhots? I work with a few of those, but only in small batches, because they’re tricky to grow. Things like the Carolina Reaper, which is the current Guinness record holder at over 2 million SHU, or the Ghost Pepper (Bhut Jolokia) at around 1 million SHU. These are for people who want actual pain, basically. I only take orders for these from companies that know what they’re doing—you don’t want a little kid getting into a jar of Reaper sauce, trust me. I source these from a small farm in South Carolina that specializes in superhots, and they have to follow strict food safety rules because they’re so spicy.
But here’s the thing that most people don’t talk about: the number of types isn’t fixed. Farmers are always making new varieties, crossing old ones to get more heat, better flavor, or higher yield. A few years ago, I got a new type of red chilli from a farmer in Peru—called a rocoto red, it’s a little round one, has a tangy, citrusy flavor, around 30,000 SHU. No one was growing it commercially before, so we started bringing it in, and now a lot of Peruvian restaurants in the US use it all the time. That’s the cool part about chillies—they’re always evolving, and every year there’s something new to add to the list.
Wait, let’s go back to that original question: how many types of red chillies are there? If you ask a botanist, they’ll say around 200 named cultivated varieties, not counting wild ones. If you ask a seed company, they’ll say over 1,000, because they count every hybrid they sell. If you ask me, as a supplier who’s actually handling these things every day, I’d say around 50 that I work with regularly, plus another 20 seasonal or specialty ones that pop up each year. And that’s not even counting the different ways you can prepare them—dried, fresh, smoked, ground into powder, made into paste, or turned into hot sauce. Each preparation changes the flavor and count, too.
A lot of new buyers come to me and say, “I just need red chillies—send me whatever you have.” But the truth is, the type you pick makes all the difference. If you’re making a mild salsa for a family restaurant, Anaheim is perfect. If you’re making a spicy hot sauce that needs to stand out, cayenne or guajillo is the way to go. If you’re making a marinade for wings, maybe a mix of serrano and habanero to get both heat and flavor. I’ve had buyers order the wrong type before, and they come back swearing they’ll never make that mistake again—like the guy who ordered cayenne for his mole, and it came out tasting like fire instead of that deep, smoky sweetness he wanted.
As a supplier, my job isn’t just to send you red chillies. It’s to help you pick the right one for your needs, tell you what’s in season, and make sure they arrive fresh, no matter where you are. I’ve been doing this for long enough that I can tell a good batch of red chilli just by looking at it—bright, uniform color, no soft spots, a little firm to the touch. I check every shipment when it comes in, because if even one pod is bad, it can ruin an entire order, and I don’t want my buyers dealing with that.
So, if you’re a restaurant owner, a hot sauce maker, or just someone who needs bulk red chillies, don’t waste time guessing how many types there are, or which one is right for you. Hit me up, tell me what you’re making, how much heat you need, and how soon you need it. I’ll hook you up with the right variety at a fair price, and even give you tips on how to use them if you’re new to working with red chillies. I’m not just a supplier—I’m a guy who loves chillies, and I want your food to taste as good as possible, whether it’s a simple taco or a complex mole.

At the end of the day, the number of red chilli types doesn’t matter as much as finding the right one for what you’re doing. There are thousands out there, but I’ve got the ones that work, that are high quality, and that I’d use myself in my own kitchen (yes, I cook with these every day—my wife says I put way too much cayenne in my chili, but that’s just my thing). So if you need red chillies, for any use, reach out. Let’s chat, no pressure, and we’ll get you set up with exactly what you need.
Fresh Onion References
- DeWitt, D., & Bosland, P. W. (2009). The Complete Book of Chilli Peppers. Chronicle Books.
- Pickersgill, B. (1997). Evolution and distribution of the Chilli Peppers (Capsicum spp.). Annals of Botany, 79(1), 59-69.
- Bosland, P. W., & Votava, E. J. (2012). Peppers: Vegetable and Spice Capsicums. CABI.
- Scoville, W. L. (1912). Note on capsicum standards. The Journal of the American Pharmacists Association, 1(3), 453-454.
- Farfan, J., et al. (2015). Genetic diversity and population structure of Capsicum annuum landraces from the southwestern United States and Mexico. Genetics and Molecular Research, 14(4), 13750-13762.
Nine Three Import and Export Co., Ltd.
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