Sechuan Buttons: The Taste of Electricity

Nicolas Mazard, manager for micro-greens specialist Koppert Cress USA, is part ringmaster and part pusher. Dressed in company regalia he takes center stage at the Koppert Cress booth and presents an intriguing selection of microgreens to curious passersby at the 2008 International Chefs Congress. His melodious French accent and striking good looks are as riveting as the selection of micro-greens he presents; each intensely flavored and complex. The star of the show is not the Tahoon Cress (which tastes like the aroma of a beech tree forest after a good spell of rain) or the Purple Shiso (which tastes like fresh cumin and violets) or the Borage Cress (which tastes like the delicate brine of oysters and freshly cut cucumbers); it is a tiny flower head that Koppert calls the “Sechuan Button”. 

Sechuan Button is a term coined by Koppert Cress for Acmella oleracea, a plant developed through cultivation of Acmella alba, which is native to Peru and Brazil. The flavor of the flower head possesses a kick that resembles the spiciness of a Szechuan pepper, hence the name used to market it. Acmella oleracea became naturalized in East Africa and now grows throughout the continent. Its leaves are traditionally added to salads, soups and meat dishes, but the flower heads are more commonly used for toothache, throat and gum infections. 

The flower heads produce a unique sensation that is the umami of mouthfeel, creating a kinetic feeling on the side of the mouth where it’s chewed. Anesthetic effects of numbness and tingling accompany another sensory experience, which is unsettling to the novice Sechuan Button eater; watering of the mouth. When the puckish Mazard initiates the tasting of Sechuan Buttons, he carefully dispenses a quarter of a bud to each person, enthusiastically awaiting the response of audience members as they traverse a course that begins with fear and evolves into fits of giggling and laughter. “Remember what it felt like when you were a kid and licked a 9-volt battery?” Mazard asks, “That is the feeling you experience with Sechuan Buttons. It’s like having electricity in your mouth.” 

Koppert Cress suggests using Sechuan Buttons in sorbets and mixed drinks, but its application in flavors is limitless, provided that proper contrasts and pairings are achieved. Indulging in “buds”? That’s a bit Cheech and Chong. Chewing “buttons”? Sounds like an allusion to Aldous Huxley’s adventures with mescaline in The Doors of Perception. The marketing of Sechuan Buttons brandishes an element of the narcotic with the culinary, as well it should; the active ingredient in Acmella oleracea which produces unique sensations in the mouth is the molecule spilanthol (N-isobutyl-4, 6-decadienamide). Spilanthol is an antiseptic alkaloid that is a poison for most invertebrates, but harmless to warm-blooded animals. The molecule acts on the trigeminal nerve, which affects sensations in the face. 

My personal experience with the effects of Sechuan Buttons is a mild euphoria, which transpires after eating a single flower head over the course of an hour, one quarter of a bud at a time. Appetite makes the mouth water and Sechuan Buttons definitely trip a switch in the brain that triggers feelings of pleasure when you understand all of the plant’s sensory effects and aren’t frightened by them. There are six distinct qualities that are experienced when tasting Sechuan Buttons. As one chews the flower head, the senses course through green, bitter, numbing, electrical, tart, and lemon sensations. 

According to Plant Resources of Tropical Africa (also know as PROTA), essential oil distilled from the fresh flowers contains high amounts of the dietary cannabinoid β-caryophyllene (its flavor resembles black pepper, hence the appropriate marketing nomenclature on Koppert Cress’ part). Other major constituents include limonene (lemony), thymol (thyme-like), cadinene (green-like) and germacrene (spicy and woody). When one understands the sensory qualities of Acmella oleracea's molecules (referenced by flavor chemists as “organoleptic properties”) the science of taste becomes more fascinating as it is a yardstick with which one can measure sensory experiences. 

Sechuan Buttons have given the term “nipping it in the bud” a whole new meaning. Perhaps Koppert Cress USA should consider the California Milk Processor Board’s marketing of milk when promoting the exotic and zingy treat: "Got electricity?" Notes: Horizon Herbs sells three varieties of organic Spilanthes seeds (another species term for Acmella oleracea) that can be sown in the spring if you wish to grow your own flower heads. 

The plant also goes by the French name Brede Mafane or paracress. Micro-greens are a plant's first true leaves and are not to be confused with sprouts. Chefs use them as flavorful garnishes as their size belies the intensity of their flavor. The Koppert Cress micro-green selection is beautifully presented here. An equally compelling document on the Sechuan Button is available on the company’s site. Product photos and picture of Nicolas Mazard are from the Koppert Cress website.

Fragrant Explorations: The Scent of Gardenia

The seed of an explorer lies dormant inside everyone. When carefully nurtured through travel, it blossoms and reveals this truth; the boundary between the senses and sensory objects is an illusion. We assimilate everything that we encounter in life and this shapes who we become. 

Travel is a catalyst for self-discovery and those willing to go where others have not sometimes bring the journey to others. This is reflected in the travels of Trygve Harris, owner of the fragrance shop Enfleurage in New York. Harris uses her love of scent as a compass for self-discovery that is passed on to her customers. The result of her recent quest is true gardenia essential oil and gardenia butter from Columbia, each an exquisite find in its own right. 

True gardenia essential oil is rarely used in commercial perfumery. It is expensive to produce and yields a kilo of absolute from 5000 kilos of flowers. In Perfume and Flavor Materials of Natural Origin author Steffen Arctander notes that French extraction expert Charles Garnier made gardenia concrete on the Indian Ocean Island of La Réunion, but eventually gave up the venture. 

Gardenias are native to southern Asia so it was no surprise when China and Formosa entered the market and began producing gardenia concrete from Gardenia florida, the same genus and species used in traditional Chinese medicine. (The berries of another variety of gardenia, Gardenia grandiflora, are used by the Chinese to produce a yellow dye called wong shi). When Arctander sampled gardenia concrete from China and Formosa he deemed them weak and unimpressive; an assessment that preceded the publication of his book in 1961. 

Modern perfumery relies on a mixture of natural and synthetic molecules to produce long lasting effects in finished fragrance products. In the industry, this quality is referred to as "tenacity". Robert Piguet's Fracas (1948) is a good example of this; middle notes of tuberose and gardenia can still be experienced in the perfume's powdery and musky drydown. When a person’s reference point is a finished product versus the raw material itself, it's hard to ferret out a single odor profile by smell. This is a serious issue for the true fragrance connoisseur who wants to feel connected to the source of their olfactive pleasure, as well as the history of that source. 

A similar sentiment is embraced by the Slow Food movement whose members emphasize the need to connect to the source of food on a local level. In an article in Food Arts entitled “Massing Links”, author Paul Hawken articulates opinions that shadow those expressed by fragrance connoisseurs;  

One of the drivers of the food system is the loss of nutritional literacy. We cannot taste the things we once did and do not recognize the importance of taste. And since taste drives consumption and purchasing, it’s critical to what we grow and how we produce our food. Our nutritional literacy can be reduced to a few intense flavors: salty, sweet, fat. Yum. It’s called McDonald’s and Fritos and Cocoa Puffs. Manufacturers know far more than we do about olfactory responses and mouthfeel and how these affect the brain and our sense of well-being. These taste buds in our mouth are not baubles to be toyed with. They are evolution itself, a teacher, a kindness, a guide. Because the natural food stores have been taken over by Whole Foods, it’s left to restaurants to curate the wisdom of our taste buds and remind us of what we have lost.                                                        —Weintraub, Judith. “Massing Links.” Food Arts June 2008: 109-113. 

Trygve Harris blogs on Absolute Trygve and her profile includes this revelatory quote; “I own a small company in New York City specializing in aromatics from the natural world. I was very excited to learn that nearly everything I had ever learned about everything, including myself, was wrong and continue to be surprised and delighted by this discovery daily.” I have never met Trygve Harris, but shop at Enfleurage regularly, eager to catch a whiff of her latest find or satisfy an exotic yen. (Enfleurage is not far from Aedes de Venustas and Aphrodisia Herb Shoppe, so it would be sacrilegious not to include the store when scentripping in the West Village). Based on her personal ethos, it would be safe to say that Harris would sooner sample gardenia concrete herself as opposed to allowing Arctander's sacrosanct evaluations to set a limit on her curiosity; which is exactly what she did. 

Harris visited an organic farm in Columbia that makes essential oils using the enfleurage method and was present for the extraction of gardenia. Enfleurage is a method of fragrance extraction that involves layering petals or whole flowers in fat and separating the plant’s scent compounds from the infused pomade using a solvent (usually alcohol). The process is one of the oldest means of extraction used in perfumery, one that does not degrade the fragrance through excessive heat. The process is laborious and not as efficient as modern methods that utilize organic solvents or liquefied gases. This is evident in the tenacity of organic gardenia extract that has been produced for the Enfleurage shop; it is beautiful, but lacks the complexity of a conventionally extracted fragrance material. 

The gardenia butter is a sensorial gem. It's a luxurious pomade enriched with particles of perfumed palm fat that come out of the alcohol distillation process used to extract gardenia. As expectations of tenacity are not at the forefront for this product, it can be enjoyed for its sensual texture, moisturizing properties and delicate fragrance. The creamy green facets of gardenia rise above its fruity floral character, a quality that is also found in tuberose. The result is a product that resembles the scent of gardenia in its natural setting. It is initially impactful, leaving little to linger over when the nose draws away.

Does gardenia butter's short-lived tenacity matter? If you are a consumer that's only been exposed to commercially prepared perfumes, the answer is “yes”. The average fragrance user's expectations are framed by the marketplace and most fragrance consumers have little exposure to raw materials used in perfumery. If consumers are fortunate enough to live in climates that support the growth of plants and flowers used in perfumery, familiarity will be established with regard to how these raw materials smell in their natural setting. All travel, by foot or across an ocean, exposes the senses to new experiences. The fact that Trygve Harris's explorations echo the sentiments of Paul Hawkins is not a coincidence. Terroir extends beyond the gustative and into the olfactive, an important fact to remember when navigating among sensory menageries. Where will the explorer's compass take you? 

Notes: Enfleurage's gardenia butter and essential oil are in limited supply. A quarter ounce of the butter is $15. A 2 ml bottle of the essential oil is $50.00. The store is located at 321 Bleecker Street in NYC. Phone: (212) 691-1610 or (888) 387-0300. The purview of perfumery has widened since Steffen Arctander’s book on natural materials was made available to the public (it is part of a set and only recently became available as a standalone). 

The first picture that accompanies this post is from a work entitled "Seed Fire". The third picture is called "Heart Offering". Both were created by artist Krista Lynn Brown. Her artwork can be found on Devaluna. Photo of a magnolia flower is taken by brianrosshaslam on Flickr. "Red Flower, Old Compass" is a thoughtful photo by claireikalena on Flickr. 

In Memory of Juergen W. Ausborn: Foodie and Friend

On an ordinary Friday I put my mailbox key into the lock and did what I do each time I open up the box; turn the key to the right, listen for an echo to see how much mail is inside, and remind myself to curse in French in case the electric bill has arrived and there are children nearby. Though my affection for Women’s Wear Daily has been on the wane of late, I still look forward to the fragrance coverage on Friday. The newspaper had dutifully arrived and looked like a carefully rolled scroll inside the mailbox. Cradled at its center was a distinctive white envelope addressed in neat and thoughtful script.

I didn't recognize the sender's name or the address in Ardsley, New York. Ardsley has always fallen short on the gourmet scale. Its offerings include a handful of restaurants and The Riviera Bakehouse, the only pastry shop I know that can kill buttercream frosting (it tastes like cornstarch and aluminum). One of the oddest food stories I have ever heard originated in Ardsley. A man brought a bottle of French wine to a restaurant that was given to him as a gift. On his second glass he was eye to eye with a tiny frog that rested at its bottom. The French wine’s name included the word "frog", which had nothing to do with the amphibian inside the bottle and everything to do with why this story should have made its way into the pages of News of the Weird. Instead, the story ran in a local paper called The Rivertowns Enterprise and resulted in action by the FDA, who confiscated the bottle, the glass and the tiny frog.

I opened the envelope and pulled out a white note card with the words “Juergen W. Ausborn, July 27, 2008” embossed in capital letters. I recognized the font as it was the same one used at Pierre Marcolini in New York City, the chocolate store Juergen opened in 2005. Juergen was planning on opening a gelato store when I last spoke to him and I thought the note might have been a formal announcement. I wasn’t connecting the dots; “With a Passion for Food, Golf and Life…Juergen W. Ausborn died on Sunday, July 27th, 2008 in an accidental drowning in Bermuda. Upon his death, he is survived by his spouse Julia Collins, his daughter Jessica Ausborn and his dog, Chester. Juergen has requested that there be no memorial service, but asks that you raise a glass of wine in memory of the times you shared with each other.”

The elevator next to the mailboxes was on the ground floor and I ran inside to be alone. There was a familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach, the same one I had on September 11th when I was trying to make sense of the perfect blue sky and the aura of crematoria that snaked its way into the acrid odor of burning jet fuel, plastic, glass and steel. The haunting collision between life and death can stalk the grief-stricken like an inescapable loop dream. It felt unfair and cruel. How could someone who enjoyed life so much, someone who was kind and generous, be gone just like that? The last person I knew that died in a drowning accident was a physician and friend. "Think about the good things," I told myself. Grief was rummaging in my mind and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Juergen taught me a thing or two about food. I wouldn’t know a medlar from a melon if it wasn’t for him. When Pierre Marcolini's Medlar Jam premiered at the New York store, Juergen was quick to provide me with a jar and a few folkloric facts. He asked me if I wanted to taste a bit on brioche and I obliged. Anyone who has ever had to decide whether or not they should eat something always wants to understand what they are about to put in their mouth because eating is not only about sustenance; it is about the experience of nurturing body and mind through an understanding of the origins of food and the pleasures of taste. I was so moved by medlar that I spent a day researching the fruit and wrote a story about it. As testimony to the fruit’s compelling history (and Juergen’s joi de vive) the blog post on medlar continues to rank in the top ten requested stories on Glass Petal Smoke.

When I last saw Juergen, we were sitting at a table inside Pierre Marcolini discussing life and dessert. I finished a Tonka Bean Truffle and was admiring a Violet-infused Praline sitting before me on an elegant porcelain plate. Juergen handed me a jar of Confiture Fraîche de Fraise Mara des Bois, a strawberry jam made with petite wild strawberries that Pierre Marcolini had just released in the United States. Juergen seemed a bit nostalgic as he looked at the jar and began to tell me about his daughter Jessica, who loved wild strawberries as a little girl. She discovered them on a family trip to Europe and for the duration of the stay had an appetite for nothing else; "Strawberries for breakfast, strawberries for lunch and strawberries for dinner. That is all she wanted.” Juergen smiled and showed me pictures of his home in Ardsley and his dog, Chester. When he talked about Chester there was something very earnest in his eyes, the kind of warmth you see in a true dog lover. It was a side of Juergen I hadn’t seen before, but it didn't surprise me at all.

The scent of Juergen’s cologne highlighted our last conversation with a pleasant crisp earthiness. My nose couldn't stop honing in on one note; vetiver. Vetiver is an aromatic grass that is vibrant, woody and somewhat addictive (you want to keep smelling it over and over again). All of the tasting I was doing had dulled my sense of smell and I was certain that Juergen was sporting Vetiver by Guerlain. I asked him if that was what he was wearing and he laughed, shaking his head at the combination of curiosity and insistence in my tone. “It is Terre d’ Hermès,” he said. “A formula that includes a good dose of vetiver,” I replied. He smiled and coaxed me into describing the taste of the boutique's Violet-infused Praline to the woman who was selling chocolates behind the counter. She understood its beauty, but had a hard time articulating it to the uninitiated. I obliged and he handed me a bag with the strawberry jam and an extra goody; a bar of Fleur de Cacao. He held the door open as I left and told me to stay in touch regarding a gelato venture that was pending. I remember hearing the heavy glass door closing shut behind me.

It has taken a while to reconcile Juergen Ausborn's untimely passing and I have yet to return to the store. Writing this post seems to have removed some of the sting and I have been reminded by his wife Julia that there are gelatos waiting to be tasted. I'm sitting in front of the computer with a glass of Trimbach Gewürztraminer and the note that prompted this story. Zum Wohl, Juergen. May you find as much joy in the afterlife as you’ve inspired in those who knew you on this tiny blue planet.

Notes:

A variety of Vetiver grass products are sold by VivaTerra. They include a bath mat, hamper and vetiver grass spheres that can be used for scenting.

The photo of a wild strawberry comes from the BBC website and was taken by Terry Ferdinand. The fruit is easy to grow in pots and in the garden.

Ambrosial Delights of Varietal Honey

At the end of August, fragrant blooms of honeysuckle begin to fade in verdant winding tendrils. Though other richly perfumed flowers emerge in the landscape, a distinct emptiness arises when it’s no longer possible to taste a drop of honeysuckle nectar. The slowly extracted stamen of this flower rewards an eager mouth with a sweet pearl of nectar and embodies the edible perfume of summer. Its absence is equivalent to the memory of a last kiss; a sad occasion for mere mortals, but not for bees and those who partake in the ambrosial delights of varietal honey.

The opportunity to experience the flavor of single floral nectar never disappears, not as long as artisanal beekeepers manage hives that actively pursue the nectar of a particular flower. Honey that is harvested in this manner is referred to as varietal or monofloral honey. There are over 300 types of monofloral honeys available in the United States according to the National Honey Board. Colors range from light to dark amber, with more intense flavors found in deeply hued honeys. Textures also vary and may express creamy or grainy personalities, delightful qualities in raw honey that that aren’t tainted by pasteurization.

Pasteurized Orange Blossom & Clover honeys are commonly found in pantries across America. Pasteurization of honey is, for the most part, cosmetic. Yeasts that could potentially cause fermentation in honeys with high water content are destroyed, but naturally occurring traces of botulinum spores (bacteria found in all honey that is harmless to adults, but unsafe for infants) aren't completely eliminated. Pasteurization of honey also prevents glucose molecules from crystallizing; a natural occurrence that is considered unattractive in non-creamed honeys sold in grocery stores. In addition to affecting the subtle flavors of honey, pasteurization breaks down beneficial enzymes that aid in digestion and may also reduce antioxidants (which are present in greater quantity in darker honeys versus lighter ones).

Common processed honeys display general flavor traits that are citric and slightly musky, with faint butterscotch notes. Raw artisanal honeys cannot be generalized when it comes to flavor as subtleties abound. Lighter honeys like acacia are extremely delicate and display understated floral and vanilla notes, whereas darker honeys like Buckwheat contain molasses, dark caramel, and malt notes. Chestnut honey’s flavor resembles Buckwheat honey with added notes of wet hay, nuts, orange blossom and bitter wood. Its aroma is deep and somewhat barn-like. Despite mild indolic qualities, Chestnut honey achieves incredible harmonies when combined with Greek-style yogurt, Chinese cassia cinnamon and walnuts.

Like wine, monofloral honey is best paired with cheese or fruit, so its flavor can be thoughtfully savored. Slowly relishing a bit of honey on a spoon is decidedly sensual as aspects of taste, texture and mouth feel vary from honey to honey. The following varietals will tempt taste buds with endless pleasure:

Big Island Bees: Organic Ohi’a Lehua Blossom Honey

The Ohi'a Lehua tree, sacred to Pele (goddess of fire), is the first plant to grow out of new lava flows and is a sign of forest regeneration. The honey made from its bright pink blossoms is thick, sweet and juicy. Big Island Bees Ohi'a Lehua Honey opens up with hints of pineapple, Anjou pear skin and a touch of toasted marshmallow; gustative qualities that are well-suited to its crystalline texture. There is a soft musky quality to this honey, a characteristic one finds in freshly cut green figs or the clean scent of skin and hair; a delectable and erotic effect that is best experienced rather than explained.

Big Island Bees: Organic Wilelaiki Blossom Honey

Big Island Bees Organic Wilelaiki Honey is golden yellow in color, its granular texture reminiscent of Farina on the tongue. Wilelaiki, also known as Christmas Berry, possesses a flavor that is both unique and unforgettable. Rich notes of saffron, leather, and blonde wood warm the palate with occasional hints of dry lime mingled with eucalyptus. The finish is faintly bittersweet, with an overall impression that resembles badam halwa in taste and texture. Wilelaiki honey has the personality of a rich attar and is most perfume-like in the way its aromas unfurl.

Big Island Bees: Organic Macadamia Nut Blossom Honey

When sampling Big Island Bees Organic Macadamia Nut Blossom Honey, one expects to find nutty flavors due to its source. Nature trumps reason (as well as the product description on the label) when it comes to the taste of this honey. Bees transform nectar into an amber-colored floriental treat that is pure bliss. Seduction at its best beckons instinct with playfulness and stealth. After toying with your expectation of taste, Macadamia Nut Blossom honey delivers the unexpected; it is citric, asserts deep notes of sultry Jasmine and Orange Blossom, and finishes with trilling notes of butterscotch, rum, amber and vanilla. Flirtatious and sensual, it is a Holy Grail honey if there ever was one.

Bee Raw Colorado Star Thistle Honey
Texture supports taste and emphasizes the sense of touch in degustation. Bee Raw Colorado Star Thistle Honey is thick, but not crystalline, lingering in the mouth like a soft caramel. The sweet and hay-like qualities of beeswax are more apparent in the mouth feel versus the flavors that that are perceived on the tongue. This is a gentle honey with delicate notes of Ceylon Cinnamon, banana and a creamy mineral facet. A sumptuous treat perfect for spreading on baked goods, cheese and fruit.

Pascal Verrière Apiculteur Miel de Tilleul
Tilleul in French refers to the blossoms of the Linden Tree (also known as Lime Blossom or Basswood). A higher ratio of naturally occurring glucose (not initiated by feeding bees sugar water in winter) results in partial to full crystallization of this fragrant honey, which tastes like its blossoms smell. The honey gradually reveals a white floral bouquet, asserting an ozonic green freshness; much like the sensation of walking under a blooming Linden tree. Pascal Verrière Apiculteur Miel de Tilleul is not easily available stateside, but can be found in a few brick and mortar gourmet shops. The honey comes from the Ariège region in the South of France, where bees forage in pristine mountains that are untouched by pesticides or chemical fertilizers. Armen Benlian of Yaranush carries this honey in her Westchester store.

Notes:

To learn more about the history of honey and its role in mythology, read the honey section in the article entitled "The Lore of Simple Things: Milk, Honey and Bread in Myth and Religion." The article is one of many gems that can be found on Endicott Studio's The Journal of Mythic Arts.

The photo of a bee above a honeysuckle flower comes from Jeff Mohamed's blog, Jeffincyprus. He writes about birds and wildlife in Houston, Texas.

Product photos are sourced from the honey manufacturers.