The Sandpoint Eater: Pick a pepper

By Marcia Pilgeram
Reader Columnist

I’m loving these cooler evenings. Fall is near, and there is something about this season that makes us generous. And who needs a garden when you have friends who’ve been sharing their bounty?

My bowls and baskets runneth over. This time of year seems to turn many of my friends into produce dealers. And this year, it seems everyone I know is growing peppers.

All kinds of peppers. Long ones, short ones, fat ones, skinny ones, wrinkled ones, shiny ones, red ones, green ones — and peppers with enough heat to make you question your life choices. My friends have been bringing them to me by the bagful.

Peppers have become the new zucchini. You know what I mean. In August, you can barely answer the door without someone saying, “I brought you a few zucchinis.” By September, it’s peppers. I’m beginning to suspect that some of my friends are growing them specifically so they can get rid of them at my house. Don’t get me wrong — I’m not complaining.

The grocery store has gotten in on the act, too. I recently bought several pounds of freshly roasted Hatch peppers at Super 1. Now de-seeded, skinned and frozen, they’re ready for our Feliz Navidad feast. Although, chances are, I’ll be getting into them long before the holidays. Whenever the thermometer drops, I start craving something with a little fire.

Some of the peppers my friends give me come with a pedigree, including seed provenance. Others do not. 

Beware! 

“Here,” a friend will say. “These are really good.”

After years of pepper sampling, I’ve developed my own internal pepper thermometer. It isn’t certified by the USDA, but after years of experience, I trust it. If I’m chopping and my eyes begin to water, I call it a three. If I’m gasping for air, it’s a definite five.

Peppers are native to the Americas and archaeological evidence suggests that people were using and cultivating chiles in those lands more than 6,000 years ago.

When Christopher Columbus encountered chile peppers in the Caribbean in 1492, he mistakenly connected their heat with the black pepper he was hoping to find in Asia. The name “pepper” stuck, even though chile peppers and black pepper are entirely different plants.

From there, peppers traveled remarkably fast. Portuguese and Spanish traders helped carry them around the world; and, within decades, they were finding their way into cuisines in places as far-flung as India, China and Japan.

That is quite a journey for something that can fit in the palm of your hand.

My own pepper journey this season began at a friend’s dinner table. She served a roasted pepper salad that was so delicious I couldn’t stop eating it. When dinner was over, she generously sent me home with the leftovers.

Naturally, I did what any food-loving friend would do. I reinvented them. Back at home, I took the roasted pepper salad and began tinkering. A little of this. A little of that. Out came my old kitchen workhorse: my fancy Cuisinart.

I say “fancy” because nearly 40 years ago, back at the ranch, Big John — one of our salty old hands, whom I fed every day — had a comment about that very machine.

“Ever since you got that fancy Cuisinart,” he said, “we never know what you’re feeding us.”

He did have a point. A Cuisinart can take perfectly innocent ingredients and turn them into something that looks suspiciously like a science experiment.

After all these years, my fancy Cuisinart is still working. These days, though, like me, it is considerably more tired than fancy.

Last week, I had guests for Sunday dinner and served the roasted red pepper spread as an appetizer. People kept asking for the recipe, including the friend who had originally sent me home with her roasted pepper salad.

I confessed that the delicious roasted pepper spread she was enjoying had humble beginnings — with her leftover salad. And that, really, is what I love about fall food.

It doesn’t have to begin with a recipe. Sometimes it begins with a friend handing you a bag of mysterious peppers. Sometimes it begins with leftovers. Sometimes it begins with a garden overflowing with more bounty than one person could possibly eat.

Fall is a time to harvest and a time to share tomatoes, apples, squash and peppers. We share recipes, jars, meals, fall harvest wine and stories. We send someone home with leftovers and, if we’re lucky, they send something even better back.

So bring on those peppers, please! I’ll take the long ones, the fat ones, the sweet ones and even the fiery ones.

But for this recipe, it’s wise to stick to the sweet, roasted red peppers!

---

Roasted pepper, basil and mozzarella dip

This one is especially good if you want something fresh and flavorful! Serve with baguette slices, pita bread or crudites. The lemon juice is important to keep a nice bright color. Also delicious served hot — just add more cheese to the top and bake in an oven-proof dish at 350° F until hot and bubbly.