Do you remember that scene from When Harry Met Sally?….No! Not that scene! The one where they are going on and on about paprikash, making ridiculous facial contortions.

 “Waiter, there is too much pepper on my paprikash.” I had no idea at the time what paprikash was, but it was still silly.

Paprikash, along with goulash, are Hungarian stews highly seasoned with paprika. (Larousse distinguishes the two stews simply by saying that a paprikash will contain white meat or fish while a goulash will contain beef.) The fact that paprika could be used to highly season anything was always a mystery to me as I grew up thinking that this insipid reddish-orange powder, in a ten-year old jar at the back of Mom’s seasoning cupboard was only good for one thing: garnishing devilled eggs and potato salad. And of course I was right; the stuff my Mom kept around for those rare, brief appearances was so old that there couldn’t possibly be any redeeming quality left.

It’s no wonder that paprika never became a fixture in my spice cabinet. It wasn’t until a few months ago, after rummaging through my cupboard for the paprika, Jordan went out and bought some. He had come across an interesting recipe for a pork loin rub, and it called for several tablespoons.

So now I have loads of the stuff, which will likely sit in the back of my cupboard for years, until one day I toss it out, unless I suddenly have an urge to make a lot of retro picnic foods. How could it be that an entire cuisine is defined by this tasteless powder?

Paprika is made from several varieties of sweet red peppers, dried and ground. As with all the Capsicum family, these peppers originated in South and Central America, and didn’t arrive in Europe until the Spanish explorers brought them back in the 16^th century.  It was well into the 18^th century before the peppers reached Hungary, where they obviously became an instant hit.

The Hungarians eventually developed many varieties of peppers which tended to be sweeter and redder than the original. It was with the invention of a  machine that could trim off the bitter stems and scrape out the seeds (where most of the heat and bitterness resides) that the Hungarians were able to perfect at least 6 different types of paprika, from  mild and sweet to hot and pungent, used extensively today in their stews and sausages.  Paprika is sometimes called the “Cayenne of Europe” or sometimes simply “Hungarian pepper.”

Meanwhile in Spain, the second greatest paprika producer and user, they were busy developing their own favourite varieties, which tended to be hotter. The other major difference in the two paprikas is that while the Hungarians hang their peppers to dry, the Spanish prefer to smoke theirs, specifically with oak. The Spanish paprika peppers are called pimiento , the same pepper used to make—you guessed it—those pimento strips stuffed in olives. Spanish paprika is properly called pimenton. The Spanish use paprika extensively in their rice dishes, especially paella, and in chorizo sausages.

When a recipe asks simply for paprika, it means the milder, sweeter, Hungarian variety. If a smoked paprika is called for, it will likely be Spanish. Paprika labelled “Spanish” may be as hot as cayenne, but the Spanish also produce milder paprika. The heat is determined by the specific pepper blend, but also by the amount of seeds left in the ground mix. In many cases, cayenne can be substituted, or chipotle, another smoked pepper. It is interesting to note that at about the same time peppers were becoming an integral part of Hungarian and Spanish cuisine, the Portuguese brought the chilli pepper to India, where today ground chilli, or cayenne, is second only to cumin in culinary importance.

But there is a secret to paprika: unless it is heated, it really won’t have much flavour at all! That could be another reason I have always considered it a blah ingredient. Paprika should be added to food while it is heating, but never cooked at high temperatures. Because of the high sugar content in the peppers, it tends to caramelize, and will become brown and bitter. Paprika also needs to be used in large amounts; a simple pinch just won’t cut it.

Paprika never really took off in North America, except for use when making various ethnic dishes. It is used most extensively here in commercial food production, generally for colouring. Cheeses, canned soups, luncheon meats, and seasoning mixes such as chilli powder often contain paprika. That orange stuff on the rind of many processed luncheon meats is probably paprika and if a food is yellow, orange, or red, and the label says “natural colouring,” it is probably paprika.

Now that I have paprika in my spice cupboard, and perhaps understand it better, I will try to save it from the fate of thousands of other jars of paprika that have gone before. I believe I have just the recipe!