Most people remember their first encounter with the Sichuan peppercorn. You might have been happily tucking into a savory, spicy bowl of shui zhu yu (an innocuous-sounding name for the fiery Sichuan fish stew that literally translates to ‘boiled fish’), and enjoying the salt and heat when, suddenly, you’re not sure if you’re tasting anything anymore. Your lips are tingling and your tongue is fat and numb; you feel like you’ve licked a battery. You’ve gone and bitten into a Sichuan peppercorn. The tiny morsels pack a mighty punch.
Shui Zhu Yu, a fiery Sichuan fish stew.
A spice indigenous to China, Sichuan peppercorns aren’t actually peppers—they are dried red-brown berries from a type of ash tree. The smell of the peppercorn is intoxicating, lemony and perfumed, and the taste, electric. While it leaves your mouth buzzing, it isn’t pungently spicy like black or white peppercorns. Instead, it carries a hint of acid sweetness.
The science behind the sensation
So what is behind this strange phenomenon, scientifically known as paresthesia? Scientists believe that it has something to do with a molecule called hydroxy-alpha-sanshool, naturally present in the peppers. This molecule interacts with our cell receptors differently than capsaicin, the active ingredient that causes chiles to produce the familiar burning sensation. While capsaicin triggers the same receptors that are activated when we’re burned by excessive heat, the active chemical in the Sichuan peppercorn excites tactile sensors in our lips and mouths—in other words, you feel the taste of the peppers as though your lips are being physically touched by something vibrating quickly, causing that numbness commonly associated with eating Sichuan peppercorns.
A hallmark of Sichuan cuisine
The combination of Sichuan peppercorns and dried chilies is the hallmark of ma la Sichuan cuisine, “ma” denoting the pins-and-needles sensation of peppercorn, and “la,” the heat and spiciness from the chile. It is said that the locals’ taste for bright spicy flavors can be attributed to their desire to combat the province’s brutally humid weather.
Dishes like fu qi fei pian, a cold dish of beef slices, offal, tendon and tripe in a spicy sauce, whet the appetite in Sichuan’s steamy summers, while a communal meal of ma la hotpot wards off the damp and cold in the winter. Many other popular dishes, such as Kung Pao chicken, Chongqing hotpot, ma po tofu, Dan Dan noodles and kou shui chicken, are all based on ma la seasoning.
So what is behind this strange phenomenon, scientifically known as paresthesia? Scientists believe that it has something to do with a molecule called hydroxy-alpha-sanshool, naturally present in the peppers. This molecule interacts with our cell receptors differently than capsaicin, the active ingredient that causes chiles to produce the familiar burning sensation. While capsaicin triggers the same receptors that are activated when we’re burned by excessive heat, the active chemical in the Sichuan peppercorn excites tactile sensors in our lips and mouths—in other words, you feel the taste of the peppers as though your lips are being physically touched by something vibrating quickly, causing that numbness commonly associated with eating Sichuan peppercorns.
A hallmark of Sichuan cuisine
The combination of Sichuan peppercorns and dried chilies is the hallmark of ma la Sichuan cuisine, “ma” denoting the pins-and-needles sensation of peppercorn, and “la,” the heat and spiciness from the chile. It is said that the locals’ taste for bright spicy flavors can be attributed to their desire to combat the province’s brutally humid weather.
Dishes like fu qi fei pian, a cold dish of beef slices, offal, tendon and tripe in a spicy sauce, whet the appetite in Sichuan’s steamy summers, while a communal meal of ma la hotpot wards off the damp and cold in the winter. Many other popular dishes, such as Kung Pao chicken, Chongqing hotpot, ma po tofu, Dan Dan noodles and kou shui chicken, are all based on ma la seasoning.
The proliferation of Sichuan peppercorn
Once confined to the Chinese kitchen—not to mention, banned in the U.S. from 1968 to 2005 for fear of crop bacteria—the ingredient has, in recent years, found its way into menus around the globe, from hipster bars to Michelin-starred restaurants.
Tom Kerridge, head chef at the Michelin-starred Hand and Flowers in Marlow, a town just outside of London, uses Sichuan peppercorns in his pickled cabbage; in Singapore, the ingredient is now used by chefs like Drew Nocente of Salted & Hung in a crispy tripe dish as a seasoning.
Once confined to the Chinese kitchen—not to mention, banned in the U.S. from 1968 to 2005 for fear of crop bacteria—the ingredient has, in recent years, found its way into menus around the globe, from hipster bars to Michelin-starred restaurants.
Tom Kerridge, head chef at the Michelin-starred Hand and Flowers in Marlow, a town just outside of London, uses Sichuan peppercorns in his pickled cabbage; in Singapore, the ingredient is now used by chefs like Drew Nocente of Salted & Hung in a crispy tripe dish as a seasoning.
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