The painted walls at the ruins at Knossos on the Greek island of Crete contain pictorial evidence that saffron may have originated in this area in very very distant times. Certainly the name of its parent flower, the crocus, is Greek even though the name saffron comes from Arabic, where the spice is known as az-za 'fran; that name is often explained to derive from a Semitic root signifying “be yellow” or “become yellow”.
Saffron is the red stigma of the crocus, the female sexual organ. There is also a male sexual organ which is yellow, but it has no flavor (though it is sometimes included in saffrons of lower quality). It takes approximately 75,000 flowers to net a pound of this precious spice. No wonder it's so expensive.
Fortunately, one needs to use only a little.
Valued in many cuisines, today the largest commercial producers, by country, are Spain and Iran. In recent centuries past, desire for the spice encouraged crocus farming in Europe, where it actually grew fairly well. The town of Saffron Walden in Sussex, England, actually got it's name from local saffron production in the 16th century. But today, the only commercial grower of saffron in Northern Europe is the small town of Mund, Switzerland. As a result of past production in various parts of Europe, though, edible crocus escaped into the wild and is now easily confused with, as luck always has it, an entirely poisonous variety of crocus called autumn crocus.
Though used more extensively in the cuisines of Central Asia and India, the world's most famous saffron dishes are European, namely France's bouillabaise and Spain's paella. And the latter has just a little bit to do with why we chose saffron for a featured ingredient: it seemed a nice pairing with Wine Focus's putting the limelight on sherry.
For additional interest and variation, we're also including paprika be that a sweet paprika like Hungarian or a smoked Pimenton of Spain. This is also a good chance to encourage anyone who has never ventured beyond the tasteless crappy supermarket McCormick that your mother used to sprinkle on her devilled eggs to actually seek out a really high quality paprika. I keep several in my pantry, little cans of the smoked Spanish variety in both mild and hot, and two Hungarians I buy from Penzey's: a sweet and one called half-sharp. The latter is just what it sounds like, intensely sharp but not quite hot. What, you say, you buy the Szeged brand available at a lot of grocery stores these days? Well, that beats McCormick's to be sure, but is it as good as the fresh stuff from Penzey's? Not even half.
Buy the good stuff--it's inexpensive and it will open a whole new world of paprika opportunities for you. It's not a decoration, it's a true spice, and a very versatile and useful one. It's not only the principal ingredient in many braises and stews, like Hungary's famous paprikash, as a supporting player it gives a fabulous fruitiness to red chile dominant Mexican and Southwestern dishes.
As usual, please join the conversation by discussing your favorite uses for these wonderful ingredients.
And if you don't have them on hand? Time to go shopping!
