There are three levels of heat in the spice rubs at Brooklyn Suya, starting with mild, which is in fact hot. Not too hot, just enough to open the pores and bring a faint sheen to the skin. It’s the next level up that slows you down, insists you take your time and pause every few bites.

The highest level says stop. The mouth turns to kindling. A small sun is born.

“Are you sure?” the woman behind the counter said doubtfully when I requested the highest. “Me, I stick to the lowest.”

In Nigeria, suya is street food: meat cut thin, slapped with a dry spice rub dominated by ginger, peanuts and chiles, then skewered and charred on an often improvised grill and handed over in newspaper gone dark with oil.

So it feels right to eat it on the street in Crown Heights, Brooklyn, even on the most brutal of summer days, sitting hunched at the lone teetering, tiny table on the sidewalk. Brooklyn Suya opened here as a pop-up last August; the owners, Hema Agwu and Folusho Adeyemo, signed a lease in February.