The Perfect Pantry

Baking powder (Recipe: blue corn muffins)

From the archives, a favorite post, updated with a new recipe, photos and links.

If baking powder were an opera, the libretto might read:

Act I: Poor little BP lives a quiet life on a cool, dark shelf. Enter The Baker, who introduces BP to Wet. Bubbles appear.

Act II: The Baker, sensing something dramatic might be happening, then introduces BP and Wet to Heat, and kaboom! Bubbles appear again. The Baker encourages BP, Wet and Heat to travel together to Muffin Land, and they have adventures along the way.

Act III: Out of the oven the Baker pulls beautiful muffins, all puffed up and proud, thanks to BP's double-bubble action.

And they all live happily ever after.

Actually, except for The Baker, they all get eaten in the end...which, of course, is a happy ending for us.

Miracle Whip (Recipe: chipotle chicken sandwich)

Today I stand before you, unapologetic and unashamed, confessing, as I do every summer, my love for Miracle Whip®, the salad dressing that cannot, by law, be called mayonnaise.

What can I say in my defense?

Red pepper flakes (Recipe: Laotian chicken and herb salad)

REVELATION: Did you know you can make your own red pepper flakes?

Have you ever thought of doing it?

When it comes to peppers, the labels "mild" and "hot" don't really mean much. Is "mild" a NuMexico Naky (500 Scoville Units) or a NuMexico Big Jim (5,000)? And is "hot" a Tabasco (30,000) or a Thai (100,000)?

Why not create your own blend, mild or hot, smoky or not? You don't even need to use red peppers.

All you need are dried peppers, an oven, a rolling pin, and patience.

Other People's Pantries #78

From Dawn, in Tucson, Arizona:

I just discovered your post and thought I'd share my pantry. Certainly an eyesore for most, but I'm the one who lives with it, and so...it works great for me!

Japanese rice vinegar (Recipe: cucumber ribbon salad)

What's now called Boston's Leather District used to be a gritty few blocks of warehouse buildings filled with tanneries and industrial yarn makers, and publishing companies looking for cheap office space.

Thirty years ago I worked for one of those publishers, in the top floor of a converted loft space with huge Palladian windows on all four sides. The view was tailor-made for those of us "creative" types who liked to stare out the window while pretending to "create"; one bank of windows overlooked the train tracks, another the downtown skyline, a third the hypnotic expressway traffic.

On the fourth side an equally tall building blocked our view of Chinatown, just three blocks away.

Proximity to Chinatown was the best part of my job -- that, and the fact that a co-worker knew all the words to the Groucho Marx song, "Lydia the Tattooed Lady". On my walk home, I could shop at the grocery stores and small markets for fresh vegetables and new-to-me pantry items like chili paste with garlic, oyster sauce, and Japanese rice vinegar.

Orzo, and other small pasta (Recipe: cold curried orzo)

Poor orzo.

Compared to the other small, stubby pastas, with lyrical names like ditalini (little thimbles), annelini (little rings), acini de pepe (little beads), tubettini (little tubes), tripolini (little bows) and stelline (little stars), orzo sounds so... well, so pedestrian.

It definitely needs another syllable or two to fit in with the other pastas, but in taste, texture, and versatility, orzo (which means "barley" in Italian) leads the pack.

Maple syrup (Recipes: maple nut bread and a maple cocktail)

Guest post and photos by Sarah in Boston.

My dad had a way of making the simplest foods into a celebration.

He spent a lot of his free time in his backyard garden, talking to robins and tilling the soil with his trusty hoe. Each garden season was met with great anticipation: the first rhubarb, green onions, beefsteak tomatoes, basketball-sized cabbage heads -- you name it, he grew it.

For each thing he grew, he created a special ritual to enjoy it, something as simple as walking around with a pocketful of salt so he could eat radishes and cucumbers right out of the garden.

He had his special ways of enjoying other foods, too, like red-skinned peanuts and cold, locally made hot dogs. He was very particular about the hot dogs. He would never eat packaged ones raw, but the ones they made at Tom’s Market he ate by the pound. If I close my eyes, I can still see him sitting at the picnic table, listening to the Detroit Tigers on the radio, with a pound of peanuts and a plastic Tupperware tub of hot dogs, watching his garden, and sometimes fiddling with his car.

Another favorite was maple syrup, and of course he created a family ceremony around the annual spring tapping of the sugar maple in our front yard.

Other People's Pantries #77

From Hillary (Chew On That), in Deerfield, Illinois:

My pantry is made up of a conglomeration of ingredients from my parents and me. 

Artificial sweetener (Recipe: asparagus, nectarine and tomato salad)

Some pantry ingredients make life worth living.

Others make life livable.

In the first group: chocolate, balsamic vinegar, parmigiano-reggiano.

In the second group: Fresca, fat-free yogurt, artificial sweetener.

A gourmet ingredient it is not, but in a household of dieters and diabetics, artificial sweetener is our reality.

Dark soy sauce (Recipe: shrimp teriyaki)

One of my favorite Asian pantry ingredients, in a post updated from the archives, with new recipe, photos and links.

Yoda, the wise jedi master who seemed to know everything about everything, taught us all about the dark side, but I'll bet he didn't know that there's also a dark side in The Perfect Pantry.

There's dark chocolate, dark chili powder and, occasionally, dark ale.

And always a bottle or two of dark soy sauce.