Nothing, it seems, tastes as savory as black pepper. When it's time for supper and you want food that will make you feel like you've been fed, you probably season it with pepper. From our earliest meals, to last night's pizza, we learn to associate certain flavors with certain meals and food. Sweet says breakfast (or later in the day, dessert), vinegar says salad, and pepper shouts, "Supper."

In cookbook glossaries, black pepper is given the lofty designation "Master Spice," owing chiefly to its use in just about anything that isn't sweet. (Of course there are exceptions to that.)

Black pepper was also one of the most important spices traded through the centuries, and its power was once much greater than providing a pleasant heat to potato chowder. Black pepper inspired Marco Polo to travel the world in search of the source of spices and launched the voyages of Christopher Columbus. There was a time when a few peppercorns would pay your taxes and a small sack would buy a horse.

Growing pepper could also get you killed, if you were a native of the East Indies living too far from a main port to be convenient for Dutch merchant traders. They would murder you and your family, and cut down your pepper, because back in the 1700s, the spice trade was more about monopolies than trade, and merchants didn't want competing ships discovering remote pepper gardens.

Portugal's spice monopoly of the 1400s was the principal motivation for Columbus to search for a better way to the East Indies. When he encountered land, he frantically searched for spice bearing plants to prove he had reached the Indies, or at least his fortune. The closest he got to a black pepper was the capsicum peppers we call chili peppers, and the allspice plant, also known as Jamaica pepper.

Centuries later, an adventurous ship's captain in Salem, Mass., would reap a 700 percent profit from his secret knowledge of pepper-growing areas along a remote Sumatra coast. The pepper ended up in England, for Americans did not have a taste for it, yet.

Today, however, pepper is used intensely. A peppershaker sits on nearly every restaurant and kitchen table; some chefs blame the fast food industry's overuse of white pepper for ruining children's palates. In recent years, colorful combinations of "gourmet pepper" have become popular in stores.

Pepper is an extremely economical addition to food. Peppercorns at the Co-op cost 75 cents an ounce, a price that is nearly matched by some area grocery stores with .80 cents for off-brand pepper. Most grocery stores sell peppercorns for between $1.50 and $2 an ounce. Both black pepper and white pepper are the dried fruits of heat-loving Piper nigrum vines grown in India, Indonesia, Brazil and Malaysia. The Co-op's pepper, like most sold in the U.S., is from the Malabar region of southern India, where it has grown for 2,000 years. Pepper vines are often grown up coffee trees. Fruit is harvested by workers who climb 30 feet to collect spikes of green pepper berries, which are spread on mats in the sun to ferment and dry, and turn into hard, wrinkled peppercorns. Green peppercorns found in gourmet blends are blanched and dehydrated pepper berries with a milder flavor. The pink peppercorns are unrelated to Piper nigrum; they come from a South American tree and are included for color and mild aroma.

For white pepper, the Piper nigrum berries are left on the vine until they have ripened to a light red. After harvest, they are soaked in wet sacks until the skins can be rubbed off. The remaining pepper cores are sun bleached, yielding a white pepper with pungency, but less aroma.

And it is the aroma that makes freshly ground black pepper such a culinary necessity. Pepper's flavor consists of aroma and pungency. The pungency of ground pepper can remain for years, but the aroma deteriorates quickly. To enjoy it, get in the habit of using a pepper grinder.

Pepper works well with many other herbs and spices, and is an ingredient in many spice mixtures, including curry powder and lemon pepper. Over-enthusiastic pepper use can ruin a dish, but the strong flavors of tomatoes, green peppers, and other vegetables can hold their own with plenty of pepper. White pepper is used in light sauces to avoid dark specks; it also blends well with sweet flavors in spice breads and cakes.

My pepper recipe is from the late Bert Greene's book, "Greene on Greens." The turnips' hearty flavor can balance quite a bit of pepper, so don't be afraid. The recipe has ancient Roman origins, and is typical of the Romans' love of hot-sweet food. I have changed Greene's recipe to call for browning the turnips; the original recipe cooks on lower heat with the pan covered. Either way, it is the best way to eat turnips, I believe.

Honey-Peppered Turnips

1 tablespoon unsalted butter
2 tablespoons honey
1 pound turnips, peeled, cut into 1/2 inch cubes (no larger!)
1/2 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
salt

Melt the butter with the honey in a medium skillet over medium-high heat. Stir in the turnips and pepper. Cook, stirring occasionally, until turnips are browned and tender, about 12 minutes. Add salt to taste.