Paprika

Celery phthalides under pepper methoxypyrazine, both over hot fat. The trinity is one green note.

Sweat them together and you have the base of three continents.

Blister, peel, drown in oil. The skin is the only bitter part.

Both nightshades, both acidic; peppers add the grass tomato lacks.

Pyrazine green against aldehyde green: the two halves of recaito.

Sulfur pushes the pyrazine forward instead of masking it.

Roasted pepper is sweet and wet; anchovy is the salt line through it.

Peppers weep sugar into a slow scramble and set the whole thing.

Paprika fat bleeds orange and the pepper drinks it back.

Starch takes the pepper juice that would otherwise pool on the plate.

Roasted pepper without acid is jam. Acid makes it a salad.

Sweet pepper is the standard foil; without it the plate is only savoury.

Brined buds punch through a soft sweet vegetable.

Bitter fruit against sweet flesh; both cooked in the same oil.

Salt curd on roasted pepper, no cooking required after the grill.

Both stain the oil; the pepper carries saffron further than water does.

Identical pyrazine. Raw pepper makes the wine taste like more of itself.

Resin and fat against grass; the crunch does the rest.

Both run on methoxypyrazine — the same green stalkiness, one sweet, one savoury.

Green pepper pyrazine sits under strawberry; roast both, dress with oil.