Some ingredients you’ve probably never heard of before getting absorbed in perfumery, but I’ll bet pepper isn’t one of them. I’ll also bet you thought I meant black pepper, and you’d be right. It took getting into perfumery for me to learn about the existence of pink pepper—and then about the fact that it is technically a berry, not a pepper.

I can hardly believe it’s been 2 years since I did an ingredient sniffing post. Admittedly, I’ve slowed down a lot on buying new aroma materials, as I have more than I know what to do with (a testament to the limitations of my current skill rather than the quantity of vials). However, with my latest acquisition of Sichuan pepper, I wanted to share some impressions.

The following are all based on supercritical CO₂ extracts.

Black pepper (Piper nigrum)

This delivers the high note usually present when grinding or sprinkling the granules over food, without the physical dryness. In turns “warm” and “cool,” this spice in the Piperaceae family can be savory or fresh—in its latter presentation, it can be slightly lemony and reminiscent of elemi with an uplifting and citrusy aspect. As it dries down on the blotter, it resumes more of its condiment characteristics, which risk appearing abrasive in a scent. A subtle sweetness accompanies both phases, lurking unostentatiously in the background.

Pink pepper (Schinus terebinthifolius)

Fruity, spicy, floral, and easy to love—this berry in the Anacardiaceae (cashew!) family is perhaps one of my favorite ingredients in perfumery and is very versatile. At full concentration, it reveals a dark side of pungency like the tartness of dried fruits. For the most part, it radiates light—the bright, elemi-lemony freshness that can be taken in so many directions.

Pink pepper adds a spicy elegance without going anywhere near the diner or steakhouse. The balancing facet to this isn’t sweetness per se but rather a kind of woody aroma that pairs so well with florals, particularly rose.

Sichuan pepper (Zanthoxylum piperitum)

This is one of several species of Zanthoxylum from which Sichuan pepper is produced. My first encounter with Sichuan pepper was in the kitchen of one of my professors, who had discovered the spice on a visit to China and brought it back to the United States to share with unbridled enthusiasm about the unique numbing sensation on the tongue when biting into one of the peppercorns. It was an eye-opening—and somewhat addictive—experience, enhanced by sipping water right after tasting the pepper.

Only recently did I learn that it could be purchased as a fragrance material, and I jumped at the chance. Described as “spicy, rising, fresh, zesty-bergamot/mandarin, powerful, metallic, warm,” I imagined it would be useful in giving some zest and sparkle to a blend without relying on aldehydes.

Of the three extracts, this is the thickest, darkest in color, and most tenacious on a blotter. It smells like tasting Sichuan pepper—the physical sensation is absent, but the olfactory nasal cues are all intact; perhaps this is how it traverses the senses to manifest as “metallic” in scent. The mind fills in the blanks for the oily and savory parts of the flavor experience… especially if sniffing while hungry!

The Chinese name for Sichuan pepper (花椒, huā jiāo) translates to “flower pepper,” and indeed this gem from the Rutaceae (rue or citrus) family has sweet floral aspects in addition to the citrusy and leafy notes. By this I’m thinking more petal than pollen. This should work well with floral and green compositions.

All three extracts smelled true to the raw (or dried) forms of the peppercorns and were consistent with how they taste in food.