Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't one of the reasons for the European explorers risking life and limb by heading into the unknown western waters, was the search for quicker, and therefore, more profitable trade routes to India and the spice-bearing regions? I have this vague, alcohol and co-ed clouded memory that the mistaken explorers called the American natives "Indians" because they thought they were, in fact, in India, and they called chiles "peppers" because they had no other name to call something so pungent (besides "pretty little fruit that makes me weep, run about, and call for the immediate return of the Good Lord Jesus", which would be impractical for packaging them). I dunno. I do know that few things in this world compare to the flavor of freshly-ground peppercorns for sheer gustatory expression. Don't get me wrong. I *love* my chiles. I do. But fresh black pepper on a sunnyside-up fried egg, with just a tiny pinch of salt, diagonally cut toast with butter, Concord grape jam.... oh, I'm getting all emotional here. that harkens back to my first days of making a real breakfast for myself (beyond Cheerios) as a youth. Then, I discovered chiles, and they've possessed my life ever since. Does that make pepper a "gateway" drug? George in snow-dusted Indy, watching the days lengthen again, contemplating spring planting! :^)