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The other day we came home to a care package from a dear buddy who's been traipsing through distant Chinese cities. We sliced through the wrinkled, brown-bag wrapping. Three small plastic baggies of nubby brown husks and fine orange powder fell to the kitchen counter.
The stash was mostly whole, unadulterated and, presumably, illegal Sichuan peppercorns. Let us explain, officer!
Yes, sichuan pepper became illegal the same year as LSD - back in 1968, the FDA banned it because of fears it would infect our citrus with a rare canker disease. That ban was lifted because the stuff imported to the U.S. is now treated with a blast of bacteria-hating 160-degrees heat.
Not this stuff: there were no signs that the spices we were holding had ever been near a customs officer, let alone a sterilization blaster. Kitchen contraband. Score!
So what exactly are Sichuan peppercorns? Funny thing is, they are not related to black pepper or hot chilies at all. The spice is actually the outer seed pod of a tiny low-hanging fruit that Chinese and Tibetan cooks have been working with for centuries. Known for a mild and anesthetic heat that makes your mouth numb in large enough quantities, the stuff powers hot pots and sizzling woks. Even though the spicy cuisine that gives these little balls their name is synanomous with "searing pain," don't expect Sichuan peppercorns to spice up your cooking. Prepare for the opposite, in fact.
Sichuan pepper numbs your buds. Think the gummy numbness of high-powered cocaine rubbed sloppily on your teeth and lips.
Throughout the week, we've experimented with the best way to harness this weird fruit. We cracked it raw on salad and brussels sprouts. We threw it into sauerkraut. And toasted its dust for hot nuts. But far and away the best way to cook up with this shit is to purely infuse your oil. The first thing we learned is that the citrusy, perfume it gives off only comes out in food if you toast Sichuan peppercorns. Here's a play by play of how to get numb.
4 Tbs. Sichuan peppercorns
4 Tbs. grapeseed or canola oil
fine mesh strainer or coffee filter
1. Toast
Place the whole peppercorns in a saute pan on medium-high heat. Once you smoke, lower to medium and toss every minute for about 5 minutes. Do not burn. Once fragrant and well toastes, remove from heat and rest for a few minutes.
2. Grind
Dump peppercorns into a mortar and pestle and pulverize for one minute, until just coarser than a dust. If chopping by hand, set peppercorns on a cutting board and chop well.
3. Infuse
Put the fine peppercorn dust back into the pan, return to a medium heat and drizzle in the oil. Let cook for another 3 minutes or until you see tiny bubbles where the oil is frying the pepper. Remove from heat and let sit 5 minutes to fully steep.
4. Strain
Place snugly a coffee grinder into the lip of a small bowl or jar and slowly scrape out pepper oil into the filter. It should slowly drip a mostly clear liquid, catching the pepper grounds.
5. Use
Use 2-3 tablespoons of this frying oil in recipes in place of normal olive oil.
Like discoveries in other experimental fields, the ones that happen in the kitchen are often rooted in mistakes. When way too many black peppercorns got dumped into hot oil for a pre-bean fry, it seemed they were lost. What to do with a pile of soggy greasy peppercorns?
We got to thinking about pepper and what it is: the aged berries from an epic spice tree originating in Indonesia. Black peppercorns are actually sun cured green peppercorns, and white ones are just black peppercorns that have been soaked, skinned and dried again.
While we didn't follow through with the initial idea to make our own white pepper, we figured we could re-dry the soggy dudes in a low oven to revive them. The result ruled: the pepper reabsorbed the tasty oil and intensified its new and improved flavor. Ever vigilant for ways to put liquor we love back into the food we eat, we postulated that we could do the same with Bourbon, Mescal, and just about any other type of liquor.
The result is the same; by investing a pony of your favorite sauce, you can elevate the contents of your pepper mill to dizzying heights. You also will make your house smell like a distillery for an hour or two, and your roommates, if you have them, will be wandering round looking for phantom whiskey spills, but this technique will make soups, salads, fresh cheeses and eggs have that hair-of-the-dog flavor that you've been missing. Booze infusion is the new Umami!
3 Tsp. Whole Black Pepper
1 Shot Booze
Equipment
Small Sauce Pot
Baking Sheet
Parchment Paper
1. Heat the sauce pot on medium heat and lightly toast the pepper for 3 to 5 minutes.
2. Dump in your shot of booze. We've had great success with Bourbon, and Mescal but use whatever you like. The liquor should begin cooking off immediately, but you don't want it to burn, so turn the heat as low as you can to keep the liquid bubbling.
3. When the liquid is completely evaporated and absorbed, turn off the heat. Line a baking sheet with parchment paper (do yourself a favor and go buy a roll its really indispensable) and spread the peppercorns out evenly.
4. Bake in a low oven, around 250 degrees, for thirty minutes. You want the pepper to be completely dry. During the infusion process the peppercorns will swell with liquid and loose their dried look, when they've dried completely they will look exactly as they did before you subjected them to a whiskey bath.
5. You're done! Let the pepper cool and find something to put them on!
Over the last week we've been experimenting with pickling and sprouting, two ways to make awesome components for whatever you like to eat. Techniques are still being formulated, so those recipes are forthcoming.
With our first batch of pickled onions we made a sprightly little white bean hummus, flavored not with tahini, but a roasted and spiced pistachio puree. The sweetness of the spice and all the niceties of the nuts really make a rad platform for the briny crunchy onions, a recipe we'll post soon.
We made a little sandwich of the hummus in between two tiny tortilla chips, and topped it with the pickled onion, some cumin sprouts and veganaise. This stuff's perfect for a midday snack or as a component for a clever canapé for the next time you're friends wanna hang.
¼ cup pistachio meat
¼ cup extra virgin olive oil
1 Tsp. Ground Cinnamon
1 Tsp. Ground Cumin
1 Tsp. Ground Coriander
½ Tsp. Ground Cardamom
6 Mint leaves
¼ cup cooked (or caned) cannelini beans
¼ cup parsley
¼ cup grape seed oil
2 Tsp. Salt
1. Heat a small frying pan on high heat. Throw in the pistachios and cover with the olive oil. When the nuts begin to sizzle turn off the heat. Add the spices and let cool for about fifteen minutes.
2. In a food processor, combine the now cool nuts, the beans and the herbs and puree until the mixture stops "moving." Slowly add the grape seed oil, and continue pureeing until the mixture has a smooth consistency. If you've added all your oil, and the mixture is still not smoothly pureeing, add small amounts of tap water until it does. Salt it.
3. Serve with our aforementioned accoutrements, or on whatever needs souping up.
Beverage: The Bruery's Saison Rue
Soundtrack: The Brian Jonestown Massacre; "Free and Easy"
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