There’s a common thread that weaves through all cuisines of the world and binds seemingly disparate peoples together. Starting at the point of human conception, one can, with a bit of historical knowledge, trace the travels, progress, belief systems and even resilience of humankind. Though the Silk Road began as a means for transporting, well, silk, it quickly became a means to transport all manner of preserved foodstuffs—especially spices—thereby intertwining the trade routes of the Silk Road and the Spice Road together.
Mezze makes you happy…make it with Aleppo pepper.
This trail of spicy commerce brought new tastes to places that had some otherwise pretty bland cooking happening. Cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla and cardamom thrived in warm, humid locales like Indonesia, Madagascar and India, and became staples in places with plenty of snow and typically very white ingredients—literally white, as in potatoes, flour and dairy kind-of-white. Eastern European cream sauces began to be spiked with nutmeg’s distinctive savor; baked goods dusted at large with cinnamon and Cardamom found their way into the layers of many Scandinavian, yeasty pull-aparts that are frequently enjoyed with steamy cups of coffee—another import from the tropical zones. (Of course, along with dried spices and textiles came other unwanteds but we’ll leave those for others to discuss. We are focusing on the food and now moving onto the spicier stuff.)
Dried peppers were an extremely important commodity for many areas of the world, especially those directly on that trade route. Peppers grew well in hot, sometimes borderline arid climates as well as in more sultry climes. This meant that not only were the fruiting bodies of the pepper important for tasty-ing (and heating) up dishes almost worldwide, but the seeds would travel too and become crops for others. The pepper fruit could be toasted, soaked and pureed for sauces while spicier versions were crushed for fiery enhancement. In areas of the world where food safety was a concern, many developed a taste and tolerance for some pretty piquant levels of burn. Without going into too much detail, heat did not a hospitable home make for the heebie-jeebies that could be found in food pre-refrigeration times. (Again, another story for another place.)
Those were often tumultuous times for the world. A time for snatching, hijacking, shanghaiing and general pirating. Come to think of it, times don’t seem to have changed all that much.
Have you heard of the Aleppo pepper? You’ve no doubt heard of the conflict going on in Syria and when you hear a report on the destruction of its largest city, a facet of the story is the not-so-slow demise of an important and delicious Spice Road staple.
The Aleppo pepper is a complexly flavored pepper with provenance. It can be compared to the Ancho, but with a bit more dried, almost raisiny fruitness and a whiff of smoky nuance. It is often dried and cured with a bit of salt to a gorgeous, deep burgundy color and is also called Halaby pepper.
It has also almost completely vanished from Syria.
You can certainly imagine why. Humankind is at it again. The turmoil in Syria has all but eradicated any growth and production of the Aleppo. Turkey has stepped up and is producing all but what may be in whatever backyards still exist in the area, as it really is a delicious (and still pretty undiscovered) capsicum annum and one worth saving. We tried to determine just where the available supplies are coming from and phone reps from the typical sources went from emphatically stating that their Aleppo Pepper is sourced from Aleppo (to which we were patently surprised and a bit suspicious) to unable to determine where it was coming from. When viewing the source sites, the descriptions mostly indicate it’s Turkish crushed chili, labeled as Aleppo-style pepper, which is at least a vote for honesty anyway. In looking at the product shot itself, the products show pepper seeds which would indicate that it was not genuine Aleppo pepper, as they are always seeded before crushing. Of course, this could just be for ease of marketing, but the whole thing is pretty grim.
If the sources are really getting it from Aleppo, that would be good news, certainly more so for the people of Syria than those of us who are so far removed that our only tie-in is getting to chow-down on some serious mezze or savor a slow-cooked Dawood Basha, redolent of tomato and spice with a shiny slick of Aleppo peppered oil floating on top of the simmer.
We hope, in our heart of hearts, that someday it can again be spiced with true Aleppo pepper.
