Try a new spice!

"I hear that there is a spice they use in China that numbs the mouth," said Gavin.

"I know that spice. It lives in your kitchen!" I told him. "It's called Szechuan Pepper, or Szechuan Peppercorn, and before hot peppers made it to Asian from the Americas, it was one of the most popular spices in Asia."

I pulled out a little jar of the brown seedpods. The outside are brown papery-wood half-shells, embracing a kernal of polished mahogany, and the tiny pod trails a bit of stem, generally. They are no larger than a red lentil.

I have a pan, an old heavy aluminum thing left by an old housemate, that I only use for roasting spices, seeds and nuts. The aluminum is a great roaster, distributing the heat well, but anything acidic or wet gets the aluminum oxide into food, something I consider a poor risk.

But I sprinkled a half tablespoon of the little seeds into the pan and turned up the flame on gas stove. The aluminum pan makes a merry bell as you shake the spices in it, too. You need to shake these seeds every few seconds, really, or they stick horribly. In a bit, the first wisps of smoke rose from the pan, and I dumped the seeds into a small suribachi.

Suribachis are Japanese mortars. Traditionally brown glazed on the exterior and lip, the clay interior is unglazed and combed into ridges. A wooden pestle makes short work of spices and wet mixes.

The small bit of spice ground to powder, I take the results to Gavin, and indicate he should lick a finger and take a taste. His gaze grew intense as the flavor hit him, and the odd numbness -- not entirely but almost unlike a tingle from strong mint -- left him intrigued.

Find szechuan pepper at an Asian grocer, and add it sparingly to savory dishes. It's a classic flavoring in the filling for wontons, and adds interest to glazes for meats, and a subtle undertone to savory vegetable stews.

Roast only what you can use in a day or two and compost the rest. Once roasted, the flavor is volatile, and old szechuan pepper may as well be gritty straw.