
I had pepper on the brain this week, so much so that when I was thinking about a simple butter sauce for some halibut fillets, peppercorns, many of them, had to be part of the picture.
Actually, I have pepper on the brain more often than you would think. I suppose that makes me a bit of a pepper nerd, but to me itβs a fascinating subject.
Pepper is farmed wherever the proper steamy climate exists β Brazil, Ecuador, southern India, Indonesia, Vietnam β and pepper from different regions can vary widely in taste. Of course it is always peppery, but hints of other aromas and spices, like citrus, coriander and musky damp earth, can be present too. Describing the flavor of a given peppercorn can be like trying to describe a glass of wine. Words often fail.
The black peppercorns many of us use every day begin their lives as green peppercorns, fresh and bright and sold on the branch in outdoor markets throughout Southeast Asia. Sometimes you can get them in Asian markets in the United States, but more often you will find them freeze-dried, or preserved in brine and sold in little tins. (The sauce for the French classic steak au poivre depends on them, so you are sure to see a can or two in most French bistro kitchens.)
When ripened fresh peppercorns are left to air-dry, they become hard, wrinkled and dark; that is when they are immediately recognizable as black peppercorns.
White peppercorns are black peppercorns with their outer black layer rubbed off. Some claim white pepper is milder, but I find it can be cloying and overpowering, and prefer it in very small doses.
Then there is the slightly confusing matter of pink, or rose, peppercorns, which are not related to black peppercorns. (They are actually from a different plant altogether, a bushy tree.) These pretty spheres are decidedly less spicy, but they do have a bit of a kick.
On a recent trip to France, a spice merchant introduced me to a type of pepper called Timut, from Nepal, that is likewise unrelated to black peppercorns. Timut pepper is very aromatic and floral, and shares the pleasant, slightly numbing sensation of Sichuan pepper β yet another peppercorn impostor. Though quite different, both have a similarly exciting intensity: spicy, but not really hot.
Now, back to that halibut and butter sauce. I toasted black, green, pink, Timut and Sichuan peppercorns, smashed them to a coarse powder and warmed the mixture in hot, lightly browned butter, then added citrus zest and juice. Spooned over juicy, pan-seared fish fillets, the sauce was rich and fragrant, almost haunting.
Recipe: Five-Peppercorn Fish Fillets