"Numbing Spice"
(after "Golden Fruit" by A. A. Milne)
Of the spices of the year I give my vote to the prickly ash, the Sichuan numbing pepper, the purveyor of ma, the heart of Sichuan cuisine, the primordial Chinese spice, culinary Vibranium, the flower pepper, or, simply, hua jiao, to avoid awkward and useless translations.
In the first place it is a perennial—in actual fact, and in every market in Sichuan and Guizhou. On a day when lunch is a name given to a bowl of rice noodles and a little vinegar, when in the West your Chinese takeout gives you deep fried pork smothered in tangy sugar and calls it Chinese, then hua jiao, however alarming, comes robustly to the rescue; on those other days of plenty when mounds of mouthwatering dried red chilies overflow your bowl of lasiji, and garlic bulbs, leaves, and shoots are riotously ripe and in season, hua jiao, vibrant as ever, is still there to hold its own. Rice porridge and crisp cured turnip accouterment, dog soup and stewed gingko berries, zhi‘ergen-laced dipping sauce and dumplings, are not more necessary to an ordered existence than hua jiao.
It is well that the native spice of southwestern China, that ancient place in orbit around Sichuan, should also be the best. Of the virtues of hua jiao I have not room fully to speak. It has properties of health giving in that it assuages nausea, stomach pain and the flux, thereby helping calm any bout of la duzi. It is fragrant, for whoever handles it will smell of its flowery waft for at least a day. It is comely, its outer husk a shiny drab or dark red. In its pulverized state it can be an effective and memorable substitute for snuff. No poppy can mimic the resultant state of consciousness.
But all this would count for nothing had not hua jiao such delightful if eccentric qualities of taste. I dare not let myself go on about this subject. I am a slave to its ma. I dread every spree beyond Chuan cai borders, the palette of flavors diminishing to a bland sweet, salty, and bitter. However, such deprivation is necessary to view the feats of the Tang, Song, Yuan, Ming and Qing. For shame, the Republicans did not remain in Chongqing. Alas, the Red Army did abide in Guizhou for only a time.
Yet with hua jiao Sichuan and its surrounds live year in and year out. This speaks well for hua jiao. In winter it brightens our bowls of noodles and infuses our hot pots. On a hot summer night it spices our post-bar snack of pig brains and sprinkles our grilled street meats. The fact is that there is an otherness about hua jiao that appeals to all of us once we have had a taste. Salty is our mainstay flavor, but how often it fails to thrill without a dusting of ma. Sweet richness coats our taste buds, but all the more decadent when a bite happens upon a hua jiao husk. Of the combination of ma and bitter, I have not words. But hua jiao has no shortcomings. Until la arrived from the new world, it endured on its own. Its prickly appearance mirrors its vibratory effect. Tell the shopkeeper yes. Pay her price. Red and green, whole and ground, buy it all and keep it as a treasure, for when you leave China you will need a fix.
(You can find this and more creative efforts from Peace Corps China at chinaricepaper.tumblr.com)
