We've traveled to both ends of the Basque country of Spain --Barcelona to the east and San Sebastian to the west--to sample the delicious and varied bar snacks or finger foods known either as tapas or pintxos. On a trip to Barcelona some years ago, and again recently to San Sebastian, we were served the most astonishing dish called simply Pimientos del Padrón--Peppers of Padrón. These are small, pointed green peppers related to Capsicum annuum (ornamental red pepper) with long stems that are sautéed in olive oil ‘til they blacken a bit and wilt, drained, sprinkled with sea salt and served hot.
They are s
weet (most of the time) and amazingly flavorful, a bit nutty, with just a hint of the flavor of okra (possibly as they're eaten seeds and all). There is an element of culinary Russian Roulette, as an occasional pepper (or sometimes more) will be very hot.
A couple years ago I was nosing through the bins of the Tierra Vegetables farmstand just east of 101 in Santa Rosa when I came across a box of these exotic peppers. They were a good bit larger than the ones served in Spain, and one of the farmers stated his belief that the larger ones can be hotter. I bought a couple pounds anyway, and took them home to try my hand. They came out of the sauté pan looking exactly as they ought to, but--wow--most of them, not a few, were quite hot--had the right flavor, but way too much capsaicin (the substance in peppers that makes them hot).
Then last year at the Saturday Farmer's market, I came across a small basket of Padrones at the Crescent Moon Farm stand. Quite small, I bought what was left--about a half pound. David Moring, Crescent Moon's co-owner stated that his Padrones are almost all taken by restaurants or reserved in advance by aficionados. He also said that in his experience about one in twenty is spicy. These tiny examples were perfect. Warm from the frying pan, sweet, salty, with that faint okra tang--so delicious. At a recent Friday Sonoma farmer's market, I spoke with David, one of the farmers responsible for peppers at Oak Hill Farms. Their Padrones were larger that day, and I asked if they intended to harvest any smaller. He said that these had gotten away from them a bit, and they intended to get the size back down, but interestingly disputed the idea that larger size correlates to higher heat, continuing "I had a tiny one the other night that was the hottest I'd ever had--blew my head off".
Some farmers also apparently believe that Padrones grown in June/July tend to be milder, while those grown in August/September tend to pack more heat. There is a reported study done in Spain on Padrón peppers that found all the peppers to have pronounced heat if the plants were water stressed. (It's said to be true that hot peppers will be hotter if grown in drought-like conditions.)
Last week the Orchard Farms stand at the Saturday Santa Rosa market had a huge basket of them--all perfectly tiny. Once again the result of a quick pan-fry was sublime: close your eyes, take a sip of dry sherry, pop those babies into your mouth, and instant transport to the pintxos bars of Basque Spain.
padron plants
The history of the Pimientos del Padrón was described by Calvin Trillin in the November 1999 issue of Gourmet Magazine. According to Trillin, Franciscan monks at the monastery in Herbón in Spain's northern Galicia province first tried growing the pepper seeds they’d brought back from the New World in the 18th century. This place still remains the heart of the Pimientos belt today. ”Nowadays there is a Padrón Festival in the town of that name every August and Pimientos de Padrón are becoming one of the most popular tapas all through Spain."
To prepare:
Clean and dry the peppers. Heat a skillet with 1/4" of olive oil in it until very hot but not smoking. Dump the peppers carefully into the hot oil--they will sizzle and pop--a splash guard helps. Turn frequently with tongs until blistered, wilted and partially blackened. Drain in a strainer, spread on layers of paper towels and pat to absorb some oil. Transfer to a hot plate, sprinkle liberally with sea salt, and commence eating--mind the roulette.