It always starts in the winter with a fire in the woodstove, a recently-arrived seed catalog and a glass of wine from a box. Or in the past it did since seed ordering seems to be moving online, which is a contradiction in the sense that evaluating which exotic tomato variety to grow next summer by perusing a catalog seems more organic than wandering through websites. On the other hand, have you seen the eggplant choices you can find online?
A seed catalog of coffee table quality comes from Baker Creek Seeds of Mansfield, Mo. The catalog is a history lesson and an uplifting visual delight. Even folks who cannot afford to order seeds from catalogs will at least be inspired enough by this one to grab a couple 10-cent packets of seeds at the checkout stand at Dollar General and start a garden. These catalogs are classy enough to give as Christmas presents but only after you’ve ordered, or maybe wait ‘til next year when you get the newer one.
Redwood City Seeds has a bare bones and unique catalog featuring 54 hot peppers, and owner Craig Dremann developed a fascinating numbered scale for comparing relative heat. Fresh jalapenos measure at 238 on Dremann’s Hotness Scale, which is just below fresh chimayos at 370. Fresh serranos up the ante a bit at 1,250, which is about halfway between dried Yellow Aji and dried cascabel.
Serious hot pepper fans are not even heated up yet. Fresh Tabascos tip the scale at a whopping 10,000. Next would be the Big Sun Scotch Bonnet at 11,428. There are five habeñero varieties from twice as hot as Scotch Bonnet to almost four times as hot according to Dremann’s chart, and we have just now entered Dremann’s top ten.
The top five, and the numbers are for dried peppers, are the mustard habeñero at 36,810; peach habeñero at 41,558; Bhut Jolokia, 60,000; Tepin (with seeds removed), 64,000; and the hottest honcho of them all according to Dremman is Craig’s Trinidad Scorpion at 144,000.
For heat, if a jalapeño were a sunflower, the Trinidad Scorpion would be Kansas.
Dremann says in the catalog, “This pepper, when fresh or dried, is extremely dangerous, and you need to wear latex gloves, safety goggles, clothing that you can immediately remove and wash after you are finished, and a fume mask (like 3M model 6247) to protect yourself when cutting the fresh or dried fruit, and only work on this pepper outside. [Upon] Purchase of these seeds, the buyer assumes all responsibility for the safe use and handling of this pepper.”
A packet of 35 seeds costs $10. Protective equipment is extra.
But it is the Baker Creek catalog which offers Black Hungarian, a supposedly mild hot pepper. “Unique, black-colored fruit that are the shape of a Jalapeño. They are mildly hot and have a delicious flavor,” the catalog claims.
A useful enterprise is to make a spicy paprika with a mix with dehydrated mildly hot peppers such as Almas, Leutschauers, Golden Cayennes and Black Hungarians.
It might come as a surprise to a gardener to see that Black Hungarian leaves display a dark-on-green pattern. In a row of pepper seedlings, it is easy to pick out which are Black Hungarians.
The fruit go from bright green to purplish dark, and finish with a charming burgundy red nuanced with purple. They provide enough heat to scare away wieners but they will not curl concrete. They are not listed on Dremann’s Hotness Scale because he does not carry them, and as for heat, Black Hungarians won’t put Bhut Jolokias out of business.
One way to make paprika is to cut up mature peppers and dehydrate the pieces by spreading them around in a shallow layer in bowls or on trays carefully arranged on the dashboard of your vehicle. There are several dehydrators on the market, but they require electricity. Sunshine in a pickup truck is free. After two or three sunny days, grind the dehydrated pieces in a coffee grinder (which might become the designated hot pepper grinder). There’s your paprika. Makes a good gift. Smells fresh for months. Sprinkle it on pizza and quesadillas.
A Black Hungarian plant might grow to three feet tall or more and begin leaning over the pathway. This, of course, would be an opportunity for an engineer to step in and construct a supporting structure for the wayward plant. A scaffolding made of bamboo and sassafras twigs tied together with sisal string is somehow reminiscent of Lilliputian high-rise engineering, and it homemade and artistic.
However, a Black Hungarian plant leaning at 45° onto a pathway will probably produce a vertical branch coming out of the bottom-most node right above ground level, and this branch will appear to be a miniature individual plant. This short vertical branch could become the primary stalk if the long, angled weather-vulnerable trunk were lopped off along with all the other branches before the first frost. It would be a noble science experiment. Keep the plant alive through the winter by directing its resources into the single branch at the bottom.
Global warming might push the first frost back into November, but the attentive, conscientious gardener should not dilly-dally. Time is relentless. Take action early enough so the Black Hungarian has time to adapt to being a short, well-rooted specimen instead of long and gangly.
So, on the appointed day, with swift aplomb and sharpened shears, lop off the diagonal main gangly trunk of the Black Hungarian leaving the perfectly shaped vertical seven-in. new primary trunk of the plant. There might even be darling lavender flowers still abloom in late October because of climate change.
Next comes shelter because frost is nigh. You can build a mini-greenhouse of whatever is on hand – plastic or old windows. Another choice on a late afternoon would be to put a bucket over the flowering, healthy, short Black Hungarian – which, according to the vision, might live for years with special attention. Peppers can do that with enough mothering and the right shelter.
Another outcome could be that, with the first frost, the Black Hungarian will freeze like everything else that freezes that night. A sentimental gardener might continue to check for life for a month just to make sure, but odds are the Black Hungarian will still be dead.
Darn. But all is not lost if the savvy, far-sighted gardener saved seeds! Long live the Black Hungarian!