Recipes, guides and kitchen know-how. Mostly useful, occasionally silly.
What to Put in Your Grinder (and What Will Jam It Solid)
Black, white and green pepper all come from the same vine - pink ones aren't pepper at all. Grind hard, dry things: whole pepper and chunky sea or rock salt. Keep flaky, damp and table salt out of the grinder.
You've bought a lovely new grinder.
You get it home, unscrew the top, and realise you have absolutely no idea what to put in it.
The supermarket shelf doesn't help. Black, white, green, pink, "rainbow", "Tellicherry", rock salt, sea salt, flakes, Himalayan, something grey from France that costs more than the grinder.
So here's the short guide to what goes in, what stays out, and the one thing that will jam your grinder solid.
So where do peppercorns come from?
Not a bush. Not a tree. A climbing vine, called Piper nigrum, that happily scrambles up to ten metres if you let it.
According to Kew Gardens' plant records, it's native to the Western Ghats in Kerala, south-west India, and it's been traded for thousands of years. These days Vietnam grows more of it than anywhere else - roughly a third of the world's pepper.
The berries hang in long dangly strings, a bit like tiny green grapes that have given up on wine.
And here's the bit that surprises people: black, white and green pepper all come from the same plant. Same berries. Different timing, different treatment.
Black, white and green: one berry, three jobs
Black. The berries are picked when they're fully grown but still green, then dried. They shrivel, wrinkle and go dark. Like all of us, eventually.
This is the everyday one. Warm, punchy, a bit woody. If you only ever buy one bag, buy whole black peppercorns and you won't go far wrong.
White. The berries are left to ripen a little longer, then soaked so the outer skin comes off. What's left is the pale inner seed.
White peppercorns are milder in some ways and funkier in others - an earthy, slightly farmyard note that you either love or politely leave. Chefs use them in pale sauces, mash and creamy soups, where black specks would look like someone's dropped the hoover bag in.
Green. Picked young and preserved, usually in brine or freeze-dried. Fresher, grassier, lovely in a peppercorn sauce. The brined ones are soft, so they don't go anywhere near a grinder. Crush them with a knife instead.
Pink: the imposter
Pink peppercorns look the part. They're in the "mixed" jars. They're on the restaurant menus.
They're also not pepper at all.
They're the berries of a completely different tree, the Peruvian or Brazilian pepper tree, from the same plant family as cashews. They taste sweet, fruity and a bit piney. Delicious. Just not pepper.
Two things worth knowing:
- They're soft and papery, so on their own they can gum up a grinder. In a mix with harder black ones, they're fine.
- Check the label if you've got a tree nut allergy, because of that cashew connection.
What about the "mixed" jars?
The rainbow jars are mostly black, with a few white, green and pink thrown in for the photo.
They're fine. Pretty, even. Just don't expect fireworks - the black ones do most of the talking, and the dried green and pink ones are there largely for the colour.
If you want to play, buy a bag of black and a small bag of white, and grind them separately. Try white in mashed potato or a cheese sauce, then decide whether you're a convert or a sceptic. There is no middle ground. We've checked.
What's the best salt for grinder use?
Here's the rule: hard and dry goes in, soft or damp stays out.
Goes in:
- Coarse sea salt. Chunky, dry crystals. The classic choice and easy to find.
- Rock salt, including the pink Himalayan stuff. Hard as nails, grinds beautifully, looks nice through glass.
Stays out:
- Flaky salt. Those lovely soft pyramids are made for crumbling between your fingers. Grinding them is like putting a croissant through a shredder.
- Damp, grey sea salts. Gorgeous, but they're moist on purpose, and moisture is what turns a grinder into a doorstop.
- Table salt. It's already ground. Putting it in a grinder is like ironing a towel.
One more thing: salt needs a ceramic grinder. Salt eats into ordinary metal over time. Our glass mills with ceramic grinders are happy with salt, pepper or dried herbs.
Why bother with whole at all?
Because the flavour lives in oils that start disappearing the second a peppercorn is cracked.
A tub of ready-ground pepper has been cracked for months. It's had a long time to lose the good stuff. That's why it tastes of sneezing and not much else.
Grind it as you go and you get the full warm, citrusy hit. It's the same fresh-ground logic as good coffee - grind just before you need it, and match the size to the job.
Fine for sauces and gravy. Coarse for steak, salads and anything that wants a bit of crunch.
Filling up without the mess
- Fill it over a plate or the sink. Peppercorns bounce. They will find the gap under the fridge.
- Use a small jug or a folded bit of paper as a funnel if the neck is narrow.
- Leave a little gap at the top so the mechanism can turn freely.
- Never fill it over a steaming pan. Steam in, clumps out.
- Wipe the outside with a dry cloth before it goes back on the table.
Keeping the spare bag fresh
Whole peppercorns last far longer than ground, but they still fade.
Keep the spare bag sealed, somewhere cool and dark - a cupboard, not the shelf above the cooker. Same goes for your salt: damp is the enemy.
If you sniff the bag and get nothing, it's time for a new one. Pepper should make you want to sneeze a little. That's how you know it's still trying.
Still choosing a grinder?
If you haven't picked one yet, we've done the homework on glass versus steel, manual versus electric, and why the bit inside matters most. Have a read of how to pick a pair that lasts.
Then fill it with something good, give it a twist over your dinner, and taste the difference.
Now go and cook something.
