What would a dinner table be without its salt and pepper? They've become so ubiquitous in everyone's kitchen. However, we rarely wonder why. Both were heavily used in cuisine for hundreds of years, but so were several other spices. What made people focus on salt and pepper?
The story begins with salt. In Ancient Rome, it gained popularity as a condiment. Italians during the Renaissance served salted dishes at the same time as sugared dishes. It was not until the 17th century that the French created a salt-sweet divide. Salted foods were eaten throughout the meal because they stimulate the appetite. Sweet plates were served at the end; they satiate the appetite and shutdown our desire to eat.
It was in France that salt met its inevitable spicy partner, pepper. 17th-century Classic French cuisine, which developed at the court of Louis XIV, considered pepper and parsley as superior to the various spices imported from the Middle East. In fact, it viewed all spices as vulgar ingredients masking the true flavor of a dish. Pepper was the only spice acceptable. And, it eventually attained the same status as fine herbs which were thought to be more wholesome and exquisite. The French heightened the importance of pepper giving it the status it has today.
I often buy more spices and herbs than I know what to do with. So, it's not surprising that after several months they begin to lose their best flavors. Fortunately, there are techniques to preserve their unique taste.
There is something magical about saffron. Maybe, it's the striking bright red stigmas that always catch my eye and evoke images of vibrant florid Indian fabrics. Perhaps, I'm struck by its deep aroma that smells of honey with notes of grass and hay. Either way, I'm in love with this spice.
While walking through the colorful Spice Souk in Dubai, I visited several shops where they sell saffron. A merchant showed me different kinds and let me pick up a bundle of the Iranian Sargol saffron from its style, the yellow part of the plant below the red threads. Most people are shocked by the high prices of saffron. Iran is the world's largest producer.
Recently, international sanctions against Iran have contributed to rising saffron prices. Seventy-five percent of Iran's saffron is exported to the United Arab of Emirates and Spain. However, the main reason why saffron is so expensive can be attributed to its harvest. 150 saffron crocus flowers must be plucked by hand to produce just one gram of red saffron stigmas. Persian saffron is the highest quality of saffron. Suggestions on how to purchase saffron can be found after the jump.
Stylelist assistant editor / former CBGB bartender Phebe Hunnicutt stepped away from the shoe closet for a sec to share her recipe for a crowd-pleasing Bloody Mary. Post your favorite variations in the comments below.
With the possible exception of the Martini, there is no cocktail more personal than the Bloody Mary.Love it or loathe it, everyone seems to have an opinion about this tomato-based drink. After years of bartending and bringing along my personal variation to countless friendly gatherings, I have come up with what I can confidently call a crowd-pleasing mix. If you're already a Bloody Mary-lover there's no doubt you'll have your own personal tweaks, but if you're new to the mixology of the Mary, this recipe is guaranteed to provide you with a yummy starting point.
Fleur de Sel is my favorite salt. Sprinkled over a chocolate mousse it incites intense gastronomical excitement. It tastes clean and fresh, like the ocean, and exudes an aroma of bright violets. Unfortunately, unlike most salt, it's not cheap. While you can spend as little as three dollars for three pounds of kosher salt, Fleur de Sel costs approximately 10 dollars for only 5 ounces. But, of course, there is no comparison when it comes to the enormous difference in taste.
The reason why Fleur de Sel is so expensive has to do with its superior quality. To understand the price we pay for Fleur de Sel, we need to comprehend the intricate process involved in collecting it. Fleur de Sel must be harvested by hand with great care, because it is not supposed to touch the coarse grey salt beneath the surface. It is delicately scraped off of the surface where it floats.
Where does it come from? The salt enters shallow marshes, called œillets, off the coast of Brittany from the Atlantic ocean through an elaborate series of 10 winding waterways. But, before entering the marshes, Fleur de Sel enters a basin, called a vasière, where fish, eels, and other living oceanic organisms are cleared from the water. The complicated system of canals that lead to the œillets is crucial. Ocean water has roughly 27 grams of salt per liter, but, by the time the water ends up in the œillets, it's far saltier, containing 300 grams of salt per liter. Information on how Fleur de Sel is collected and the type you should buy can be found after the jump.
After typing a post about a wasabi popsicle, I started to think about other spice and and ice combinations. Naturally, I thought of cardamom, one of my favorite spices. A friend of mine recently suggested that we make cardamom ice cream. Unlike wasabi, cardamom is widely used in both savory and sweet dishes, such as rice and pastries. Its deeply aromatic qualities have always attracted me. And now, I'm dying with curiosity to find out its potential with ice cream.
That's right , a wasabi ice pop to function as both a palate-cleanser and a tart dessert. According to this week's New York magazine, Masaharu Morimoto, formerly on the Food Network's television show Iron Chef, just put this popsicle on his menu at Morimoto. It is made with fresh wasabi rather than wasabi powder which is much spicier.
It's not everyday that you find a spice being used in a dessert that is supposed to cool you down. Could this be the start of a new trend?
I haven't tried this wasabi popsicle yet. If any of you have, let me know your thoughts.
I've been in an Indian state of mind all day, having picked up some tasty-looking tandoori naan at the store today, and trying to figure out what I want to make with it. Unfortunately, I haven't made too many Indian dishes from scratch, save butter chicken long ago and some recent tasty pakora. Luckily, there's a cooking show that details all sorts of Indian dishes -- Show Me the Curry.
In this episode, Anuja and Hetal make Aloo Matar, a simple dish of spices, potatoes, and peas. This is a recipe that they consider to be one of the easiest Indian dishes to make -- and it's definitely a great way to get into the wonders of ingredients like turmeric and chaat masala.
Also be sure to check out their guides for stocking your pantry, as well as their tasty-looking raita recipes.
Oh, hot peppers -- they've created a big divide between those who love a little spice in their food, and those who recoil at the littlest bit of tongue sass. Michael Ruhlman is, no surprise, in the former category. He just put up a great blog about the lovely spice of peppers, and said, quite aptly: "These fruity, spicy wonders make life better in so many ways." Indeed! Now if only I could get my friends on board so that I don't get looks of startled pain when I throw a little bit of spice in. (Says the girl who can only handle a strong medium heat herself, but she's learning.)
Anyway, the post holds one little bit of knowledge that makes me wish I had The Elements of Cooking a few years ago: "The heat in chillis (capsaicin) resides in the white flesh to which the seeds are attached..." See, a few years ago, during the height of cheap tomato season, I prepared to make a lot of salsa. So, I sat myself down and prepared a slew of jalapenos to go in the mix -- and I stupidly cleaned out the insides with my fingernails.
I washed my hands a few times, but once that juice gets under the nails ... searing pain! Imagine putting your hand in an oven or fire and feeling it burn, but your skin staying in tact -- for a good twelve hours. So, my friends, it might be easier to scrape out the insides with your fingers, but it's so very worth it to use a knife.
Guajillo chiles, common in Mexican recipes, are a moderately spicy chile, usually found dried in Hispanic markets. Brick red guajillos have an interesting smoke-and-spices flavor, which some liken to burnt chocolate. I personally think they smell a bit like fresh tobacco (I grew up in Durham, North Carolina, where I could smell the brightleaf from cigarette factories downtown), and love the way they add complexity to the simplest of dishes.
The best way to cook with the guajillo is to toast it lightly to draw out and deepen the flavors. Lay a few chiles at a time in a cast iron pan over medium-high heat, toasting for a few seconds on each side, until the chile begins to inflate and gives off a strong scent. Remove the stems and seeds before using.
I like to put the toasted guajillos in the blender with cooked tomatillos and a bit of salt for an easy, striking sauce for roast pork or chicken.
Sometimes you want to add a little bit of habanero or scotch bonnet flavor to a sauce or salsa, but you're not feeling like white-hot-screaming-plunge-your-face-in-the-snow pain for dinner, thankyouverymuch.
If you were around in the 70s and early 80s, the words 'nutritional yeast' might bring up some uncomfortable food memories: brick-like multi-grain loaves, sprouted salads that looked ready to crawl off the plate, the dastardly carob. But please, give yeast a chance.
These marigold-colored flakes, often sold in bulk in health food stores, are inactive yeast grown on molasses then pasteurized and dried. Nutritional yeast's nutty, savory taste makes it popular among vegans, who sometimes use it to make faux cheeses. It also adds an umami flavor to soups, stews and gravies and is sometimes used as a popcorn topping.
Having read so much about nutritional yeast's cheesy flavor on vegan blogs, I became determined to try it out for myself. I picked up a small baggie from the bulk bin at Whole Foods, which cost less than a quarter. That night I made popcorn, drizzled it with lavish amounts of butter, then added salt and a good handful of the yeast. It was delicious - cheesy, rich, sort of earthy. Totally addictive. I'm going to try it in some vegetable soup next time.
I've used herbs and spices my entire life without ever stopping to think about what the difference is between them. I was excited to find a blog post on the subject at the Supreme Spice Blog. It's always fun to find the answer to a question you didn't know you had.
"The leaf of a plant which is used in cooking is referred to as a herb and any other part of the plant that is used to flavor food is termed as a spice."
The blog gives some examples of spices and what plant part they are from: "Cloves (bud), ginger & turmeric (roots), fennel, cumin, coriander (seeds), cinnamon (bark), peppercorns (berries)."
Be sure to check out the Supreme Spice Blog for more about spices. Supreme Spice also sells a line of spice extracts in some unique flavors. I just made an Indian cupcake using their tea masala extract. I had never even heard of tea masala extract until I saw their product.
What Tabasco is to Avery Island, harissa is to Tunisia. This brick red tomato, garlic and spice paste is stirred into stews, served as a condiment for elaborate couscous dishes, and used as a rub for meat. Though originally Tunisian, it's ubiquitous in Moroccan and Algerian cooking as well, and tends to show up wherever North African food is served, whether at a Parisian kebab joint or a Manhattan merguez sandwich stand. I like to use it to spice up bean dishes, mix it with a little mayo for a sandwich spread, and stir it into yogurt as a dressing for cold lamb.
You can find harissa in cans or bottles at many North African and Middle Eastern markets, or you can make your own. Mediterranean food expert Clifford A. Wright has a good recipe on his website, using guajillo chiles easily found in Hispanic markets.
I have a weakness for great gourmet oils, vinegars, and spices. This makes every trip to my favorite foodie store that specializes in these three things divine torture, and an exercise in failing restraint. I try a million different flavors, and I have even been known to finish off a small cup of vinegar like a shot. I go into a foodie haze and I can't be stopped.
Last week, I met up with a friend to go to that sinisterly tasty place and made a new discovery: Halen Mon Sea Salt with Taha Vanilla, which merges sea salt from Wales with Tahitian vanilla. (Details) It's delicious -- and I say this as someone who steers clear of flavored salts. The mixture offers the sharpness of the salt with the sweetness of super-tasty vanilla. I couldn't help but buy some.