The Perfect Pantry

The (More) Perfect Pantry: What's out, what's in, and enchiladas

Last week I was talking to my BFF Joyce, who's been my BFF for 37 years, since before anyone used BFF, or IM, or a PDA or even a PC.

We are the kind of best friends forever who can admit to each other their worst sins, deepest fears, mortifying humiliations, unimaginable frustrations, and the occasional politically incorrect thought or George Clooney fantasy.

For the past few months, Joyce has been cleaning out her apartment. Cat-shredded furniture? Gone. Books so old the pages have fused together? Gone. Clothes that don't fit, phones that don't ring, cassettes for a long-abandoned tape player? Gone.

Old spices, older canned beans, mysterious frozen things in her pantry? Gone, gone, gone.

Yes, I confessed, I need to do that, too.

With the Table of Condiments That Periodically Go Bad in one hand, and this food storage chart in the other, and a flashlight in my third hand, and a copy of The Perfect Pantry database (hmm... is that geeky?) in my fourth hand, I set out to do a bit of pantry tune-up. The time had come to dig into the nooks and crannies of my spice rack, storage shelves, fridge and freezer.

The time had come to set some things free.

[I'm often asked about what's included in The Perfect Pantry. Each item must pass this test: it must be used as an ingredient; it must be something I use more than once; it must be either used in more than one way, or used in one way over and over again. So, while I always have Fresca, for example, you won't read about it here, but you might read about orange or pomegranate juice, because I use it in cooking.]

First, I packed for donation to our town's food pantry assorted jams, jellies, mustards, pasta, and other non-perishable souvenirs we've purchased but haven't managed to use in the past year.

Next, I looked for duplicates, and triplicates, and five-plicates (how much instant couscous do we need at one time, really?) and packed the extras for the food pantry, too.

I set aside all of the spices that are more than a year old, to test them for potency. Any spice in a jar so dusty that I can't see what's inside will likely be a candidate for the compost pile. I hope the deer and rabbits who feast on the composting table scraps appreciate a bit of seasoning with their food.

No surprise, but I found some items that no longer meet the test for inclusion in The Perfect Pantry. I'd kept them in my pantry, thinking I would use them more often, or more creatively.

These still have a place in the kitchen, but in a supporting or occasional role:

• Frozen artichoke hearts (haven't been making as much paella lately; for everything else, I prefer fresh artichokes)
• Sliced bread (I'm off most bread and on to oat-bran pitas, so I only keep frozen sliced bread for sandwiches for house guests)
• Maple-chipotle grill sauce (it was a fad)
• Cowboy ketchup (another fad)
• Curry leaves (can't find them very often)
• Dried galangal (a poor substitute for the fresh galangal rhizome)
• Fruit sherbet (other than stuffing it in lemons, or putting some on fruit salad, we eat it straight from the carton)
• Pickling spice (I have all of the individual components, and can mix my own)

Now there's room for some new things, like:

• Fino sherry
• Aji amarillo peppers
• Sweetened condensed milk

Best of all, I discovered, lurking in the recesses of the pantry, some ingredients that inspired me anew:

• Mexican chocolate: in chocolate pudding, maybe?
• Curry powder: a potato salad calls to me.
• Five-spice powder: a noodle salad calls to me.
• Frozen fruit: 'tis the season for fruit soups.
• Sherry vinegar: some panzanella variations?
• Chickpeas: I want to learn to love them. Truly love them.

The inventory in my more perfect pantry today stands at a slimmed-down 226 items.

Have you looked through your cupboards, spice rack, fridge and freezer lately?

What's out? What's in? What's new?


VEGETABLE ENCHILADAS
Adapted from the Stonewall Kitchen web site, this recipe will use the last of the Maple-Chipotle Grille Sauce in my pantry. If you don't have this, use your favorite sweet barbecue sauce. Serves 8.

1 tsp canola oil
1 small onion, diced
1 clove garlic, minced
2 cups zucchini, diced
1 cup red bell pepper, diced
1 can (4 oz) green chiles, diced
1 tsp ground cumin
1-1/2 cups fresh corn kernels
2 cups shredded Monterey Jack cheese (or this time saver from the supermarket)
1 bottle Maple Chipotle Grille Sauce (or 11 oz sweet barbecue sauce of your choice)
8 (8") flour tortillas, warmed for 10 seconds in the microwave until flexible

Preheat oven to 350°F.

In a frying pan, heat the oil over medium heat. Add onion and sauté for 1 minute. Then add the garlic, and cook for 30 seconds. Add zucchini and bell pepper, and cook for 3-4 minutes, until soft. Stir in 1 cup corn, plus the canned chiles and cumin.

Spread 1/2 cup Maple Chipotle Grille Sauce in the bottom of a 13"x9"x2" baking dish. Mix another half cup of sauce into the vegetables. Place generous 1/3 cup vegetable filling in the center of a tortilla. Sprinkle with cheese and roll to enclose the filling. Place seam side down in the baking dish. Repeat with remaining tortillas and filling. Cover enchiladas with remaining sauce. Sprinkle with remaining 1/2 cup corn and remaining shredded cheese. Bake until heated through and cheese is melted, 30-45 minutes. Serve hot.

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Roasted halibut tacos with mango salsa
Smoky chipotle balsamic salad dressing

 

Fish sauce, for authentic nuoc cham

All this week, I'm updating posts from the very first month of The Perfect Pantry. New links, new photos, and some great recipes for summer.

When you taste something wonderful in a restaurant, and you ask for the recipe, and the owner himself shares the recipe with you — and you've written it down, so you won't leave anything out — you expect to be able to recreate that wonderful taste in your own kitchen.

So why did it take me years to make nuoc cham, the mother condiment of all Vietnamese cuisine, that tastes like it does in a restaurant?

The answer is in the fish sauce, and, as I discovered, all fish sauce is not created equal.

Asian fish sauce, made from anchovies, salt and water, is called nuoc mam in Vietnam, and in Thailand, nam pla. It's salty, and smelly, and indispensable in Vietnamese and Thai cooking, where it plays the role soy sauce plays in Chinese cookery. The quality and taste of fish sauces vary widely, and I tried many before I found one that produced the taste I was seeking.

Three Crabs brand is the one and only fish sauce in my pantry, and I've been using it for years. Stored in the cupboard, it will last for many months. Three Crabs is a bit different from other fish sauces available in my Asian supermarket, because it contains fructose, which makes it sweeter and also smoother than the naturally processed brands. To me, all that matters is that Three Crabs makes authentic-tasting nuoc cham, the all-important condiment and dipping sauce for summer rolls (nime chow) and noodle salads.

Authentic Asian fish sauce -- #4 on our readers' list of must-have-on-a-desert-island pantry items -- makes pad Thai, fried rice, catfish with ginger-lime dipping sauce, lemongrass chicken shrimp, Vietnamese pulled pork, pan-glazed tofu with red curry sauce and panko-crusted shrimp lollipops taste... well, the way they should.

NUOC CHAM (Vietnamese dipping sauce)
Keeps in the refrigerator for a month or more. Makes 1-1/2 cups. Use as a dipping sauce or salad dressing for cold noodle salads.

1/2 tsp chili paste with garlic (Lan Chi brand is best)
2/3 cup hot water
1/4 cup sugar (or less, to taste)
1/4 cup fish sauce (use Three Crabs brand with pink label to achieve best flavor)
Juice of 1/2 lime

Place all ingredients in a small jar with a tight-fitting lid. Shake!

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Rice stick noodle salad with caramelized shrimp
Green chicken curry with eggplant
Pineapple shrimp curry
Easy pad Thai

 

Allspice, in rhubarb-apricot chutney

Next time I reorganize my spice rack, I'm abandoning my usual system.

Next time, I will not group the little jars into peppers, salts, baking spices, warm spices and leafy green herbs.

Next time, I'll sort my dried herbs and spices this way:

1. aphrodisiacs
2. miracle cures
3. brings prosperity and good fortune
4. used for embalming pharoahs in ancient Egypt

That covers just about everything on my spice rack, including allspice (a triple whammy: numbers 2, 3 and 4).

The dried berry of a myrtle tree native to the West Indies and Central America, allspice was discovered by Christopher Columbus, who, thinking it was pepper, named it pimienta. Subsequently it became known as Jamaican pepper, because most of the best quality crop grew there; the English gave it the name "allspice", because it mimics the aroma of several spices, including cloves, pepper, cinnamon and nutmeg.

According to Herbs & Spices by Jill Norman, "allspice is the only important spice that still comes almost exclusively from its region of origin — which also makes it the only one grown almost exclusively in the New World." Today the majority of the world allspice harvest goes to the food industry, for use in commercial ketchups and other sauces.

One of the so-called warm spices, allspice is the star component of Jamaican jerk seasoning, and often features in ras-el hanout, Syrian spice and the American inventions apple pie and pumpkin spices.

Whole allspice berries should be a dark reddish brown, and rounded, with a rough surface and no musty smell. Ground allspice should be a rich, dark brown with a warm aroma. I always have ground allspice in the pantry, and occasionally there are some whole allspice berries, too, which I use to mix up a pickling spice.

If you prefer to grind your own, five whole berries equal one teaspoon of ground allspice; if you have to substitute, try equal parts cinnamon, ground cloves and nutmeg.

Properly stored in a cool, dry place, allspice will keep for more than a year (whole allspice berries will keep longer, up to three years). Good thing, too, because you'll use it over and over, in muffins, fish in escabeche, grilled pork chops, potato dumplings, arugula pesto, and of course jerk chicken.

And if it brings you a bit of prosperity and good fortune... well, there's nothing wrong with that.

RHUBARB-APRICOT CHUTNEY
I love chutney -- it's sweet and tart and a little bit spicy, and is a great way to add fruit to savory dishes. A perfect accompaniment to roast chicken, grilled fish or pork, this recipe is adapted from Magic Spices: 200 healthy recipes featuring 30 common spices, by Donna L. Weihofen. Makes approximately one quart.

2 cups diced rhubarb
2 cups dried apricot halves, diced
1 small red onion, minced
1 cup honey
1 cup golden raisins
2 cups cider vinegar
2 Tbsp fresh lemon juice
1 Tbsp lemon zest
1 Tbsp minced fresh ginger
1/2 tsp ground cloves
1 tsp allspice
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp cayenne pepper

In a heavy saucepan, combine all ingredients. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover, and simmer 20-30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Serve warm or cold. Store in a glass jar in the refrigerator (if using a canning jar, replace the metal lid with a plastic one, so the acid in the chutney won't corrode the lid).

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Shish taouk (garlic chicken on skewers)
Cocoa-cumin-allspice rub
Countertop dill pickles
Pumpkin pie
Tomato-nectarine chutney

 

Prepared horseradish, in a tart zucchini relish

As the crow flies, it is 990 miles from my house to the Horseradish Capital of the World.

Collinsville, Illinois, struts its stuff every July at the International Horseradish Festival, when more than 15,000 devotees come out to celebrate a root that's also known as stingnose.

A root that makes your eyes water, your nose twitch, your tongue numb, your fingers wrinkle, and your ears burn.

A root used to treat headaches, respiratory distress and rheumatism.

A root that was a favorite of both the Oracle at Delphi and Dagwood Bumstead.

More than 80 percent of the world's supply of horseradish grows in southern Illinois, and of that, the majority comes from Collinsville.

The horseradish root, a member of the mustard family, looks like a parsnip on steroids, and it's just as mild as a parsnip until you grate it. Then the isothiocyanates, volatile oils that contain the stinging hot flavor, are released, and the reaction gets stronger and stronger until vinegar is added to stop the action and stabilize the bite. The amount of time between grating/grinding the root and the addition of vinegar determines the heat level of prepared horseradish.

While horseradish is cultivated primarily for its root, the rest of the plant is also edible. But it's invasive, which is why, despite having a large herb garden, I like my horseradish from a jar, the way people have been buying it since 1860.

So get yourself to Collinsville in July, for the Horseradish Derby, horseradish toss (The record? 80.5 feet!), horseradish golf, the crowning of Little Miss Horseradish, and, best of all, the Bloody Mary contest.

And, if you're very lucky, you might find some horseradish meatloaf, cole slaw, smashed potatoes, short ribs,  soup, hummus, aioli, and horseradish mayo that's great on crab cakes and roast beef sandwiches.

Now that sounds like a party.

ZUCCHINI RELISH
Adapted from Fondue, by Marlisa Szwillus, this tart relish makes a nice counterpoint to something rich and creamy, like fondue, or mac-and-cheese. Marinates overnight, so leave extra time for this recipe. Serves 4-6.

18 oz zucchini
5 shallots
1 tart apple
1/4 cup sugar
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/4 cup dry sherry
1 bay leaf
1 tsp peppercorns
2 cloves garlic
2/3 cup herb or white wine vinegar
2 tsp prepared horseradish
2 Tbsp olive oil
2 Tbsp chopped Italian flat-leaf parsley

The night before serving, trim and wash the zucchini. Peel the shallots. Finely dice zucchini and shallots. Peel and core the apple, and dice. In a bowl mix the zucchini, shallots and apple with the sugar, salt and sherry. Cover and marinate overnight.

The next day, pour the mixture into a colander, collecting the liquid in a wide saucepan. Add the bay leaf and slightly crushed peppercorns. Peel and mince the garlic, and add it to the pan. Boil the mixture uncovered over high heat until it is reduced by half. Add the vinegar and fruit and vegetable pieces to the pan. Simmer, uncovered, over medium heat until most of the liquid has evaporated, stirring occasionally. Remove the bay leaf. Stir in the horseradish and let the mixture cool. Just before serving, stir in the oil and parsley.

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Horseradish dip
Ginger salad dressing

Aleppo pepper, in walnut and pomegranate paste

This week we're cooking with pantry items from one of my favorite regions, the Eastern Mediterranean. Welcome to Fertile Crescent Week, Day One.

People in Boston -- home of the Kennedys, Parker House rolls, and some very smart folks at the World's Greatest University -- associate the word Aleppo not with northern Syria or caravanserais, but with large men in tiny cars and red fez hats, doing crazy-eights in the middle of the street.

Boston is home to the Aleppo Shriners, a fraternal order founded in 1882, part of a national organization that supports Shriners Hospitals for Children and specialized burn centers around the country.

Like Shriners everywhere, they are parade entertainers par excellence.

Yes, they can drive, but I wonder... do they cook?

And do they use Aleppo pepper?

Until recently, I didn't. Oh, I'd read about it in cooking magazines, and seen it on some trendy restaurant menus, but I already had so many peppers in my pantry. Did I really need another one?

After several Pantry readers pointed out the gap in my spice rack, I tried Aleppo pepper, and I fell in love.

Native to Northern Syria and Turkey, Aleppo (also known as halaby) peppers are sun-dried, seeded and crushed into small flakes. The pepper is a deep red, almost eggplant, color with a high oil content; the flavor is mildly spicy and fruity, with a hint of smokiness. You can substitute red pepper flakes plus a bit of cumin to approximate the flavor, or use ground ancho chile plus a pinch of cayenne or sweet paprika plus a bit of cayenne.

Aleppo pepper will add richness to many dishes, from butternut gratin to flatbreads with spiced chicken, lentil soup to lamb kibbeh, bulgur pilaf to collard greens. Mix it into egg salad, or sprinkle it on pizza.

Now that I've got it, what else can I do with Aleppo pepper? What do you make with it?

MUHAMMARA
This walnut and pomegranate paste is a stunning deep-red color, and the flavor is rich and mildly hot. Use it as a dip or spread, with bread or grilled fish or chicken. Recipe from The New Book of Middle Eastern Food, by the incomparable Claudia Roden. Serves 6-8.

1-1/4 cups shelled walnuts
1-1/2 to 2 Tbsp tomato paste
1 slice whole wheat bread, crust removed, lightly toasted
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil
2 Tbsp pomegranate molasses
1 tsp Aleppo pepper (or a pinch of mild chile pepper)
1 tsp ground cumin
2 tsp sugar
Kosher salt, to taste

Blend all ingredients to a rough (not too smooth) paste in the food processor.

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Mushrooms and peppers in puff pastry
White chili
South End Deep Root Chili

Mexican oregano, smoky-spicy salad dressing

Twigs and leaves.

At this time of year, just a few days past peak foliage season in New England, I'm surrounded by twigs and leaves, shed by the maple, oak, pine, cherry, sassafras and birch trees on our land.

When I pulled this bag of Mexican oregano out of the freezer last week, I realized I've got twigs and leaves in The Perfect Pantry, too.

Foliage it might be, but oregano it is not. Mexican oregano, also called Mexican wild sage or Tex-Mex oregano, actually is a member of the lemon verbena family, not related to the more familiar Mediterranean oregano, stronger and sweeter but with a similar lemon-licorice aroma. I first sought out this herb when I started reading Diana Kennedy's and Rick Bayless' cookbooks; their recipes, both traditional and contemporary, often called for Mexican oregano, and I knew nothing about it.

Native to the American Southwest and Mexico, where I've seen the fresh herb for sale in street markets all around the country, Mexican oregano is found in dried form in most other parts of the world. It will keep in a tightly sealed jar at room temperature, or in the freezer, for six months or more. If you don't have a Latino market near you, order online from Penzeys, Mexgrocer or Gourmet Sleuth.

Mexican oregano adds authentic flavor to many bean dishes, soups and stews, and pairs well with beef, chorizo, onions, squash, cumin, garlic, lime and tomato.

SMOKY CHIPOTLE-BALSAMIC DRESSING
Dress up any sturdy salad -- romaine lettuce, steak, grilled veggies or chicken -- with this richly flavored dressing, adapted very slightly from Mexican Everyday by Rick Bayless. Makes 1-1/4 cups.

3/4 cup vegetable oil
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar (this is where you use the vinegar from Trader Joe's, not your oldest, best balsamic)
2 canned chipotle peppers in adobo
1 tsp adobo sauce (from the can)
1 tsp Mexican oregano, crushed lightly in a mortar
Sea salt, to taste

Combine the oil, vinegar, chipotles, adobo sauce, oregano and one teaspoon salt in a blender or food processor, and process until smooth. Taste and season with additional salt if necessary; the dressing should be highly seasoned. Store in a jar with a tight-fitting lid; store in the refrigerator, and shake the jar immediately before use.

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Spicy Sunday skirt steak
Mole colorado
White chili
Frijoles de la olla
Vegetarian Cuban canapes

Cider vinegar

In a pantry filled with olive oils from Italy, Spain, California and Trader Joe's, there's bound to be a vinegar or two. Or more. Welcome to the end of Vinegar Week, Day 3.

Pickles, shmickles.

I was going to rave about cider vinegar's culinary assets, how it's wonderful for making pickles and chutneys and cole slaw and salad dressing and marinades.

I was going to tell you about the cider vinegar diet, and that cider vinegar supposedly possesses magical curative powers over everything from arthritis to the common cold.

I was going to explain that cider vinegar is made from the fermented juice of apples, diluted with water to a uniform strength of 5% (50 grains) acidity, and that consistent minimum acidity is necessary for the safe canning and pickling of food.

I was going to add that that same acidity means that cider vinegar has a long shelf life (almost unlimited if unopened, and six months or more after you've opened it).

I was going to point out that pure (i.e., unflavored) cider vinegar is kosher and gluten-free.

I was going to mention that, while the color is mild and mellow, the taste is not.

I was going to confess that I've tried expensive, small-producer artisan vinegars, and see little difference between those and the one I find most easily in my local supermarket (other than price and the fact that the supermarket brands are filtered to remove any sediment).

All of that pales next to this one fact, this life-altering nugget of information that I discovered while reading up on vinegar this morning. And even if it seems that this has nothing to do with food, with cooking, or with The Perfect Pantry, it has changed my world forever.

Vinegar kills weeds.

TOMATO-NECTARINE CHUTNEY
A late-summer favorite with fish or grilled chicken. Makes approximately 4 cups.

4 cups seeded and chopped fresh tomatoes
2 cups chopped nectarines
1 cup chopped onion
1/2 cup golden raisins
1/2 cup firmly packed light brown sugar
1/2 cup cider vinegar
1/2 tsp dry mustard
1/4 tsp kosher salt
A pinch of cayenne pepper, or hot sauce, to taste

Combine all ingredients in a large stainless steel or other nonreactive pot. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer, uncovered, for 1-1/2 hours or until thickened. Stir frequently to keep chutney from burning. Pack into airtight containers and store in the refrigerator for up to a month (or can, using a water-process bath).

MORE VINEGARS IN THE PERFECT PANTRY:
Sherry vinegar
Balsamic vinegar
Red wine vinegar
White wine vinegar
Black vinegar
Rice vinegar

White wine vinegar

In a pantry filled with olive oils from Italy, Spain, California and Trader Joe's, there's bound to be a vinegar or two. Or more. Welcome to Vinegar Week, Day 1.

Before Marc Antony fell on his sword, he fell in love with Cleopatra, and she, though married to Caesar at the time, loved him right back.

One night, Cleopatra prepared a very over-the-top meal for Antony, who should have been impressed, but instead had the bad manners to comment on the extravagance. Piqued, Cleopatra wagered that she could consume a fortune in one meal. She then removed one of the very large pearls in her earrings and threw it into a cup of vinegar. The vinegar dissolved the pearl, and she drank it.

I like my vinegar a bit more moderate: strong enough to balance the effects of a rich olive oil, but mild enough not to dissolve my jewelry.

According to The Vinegar Institute,

vinegar is made by two distinct biological processes, both the result of the action of harmless microorganisms (yeast and “Acetobacter”) that turn sugars (carbohydrates) into acetic acid. The first process is called alcoholic fermentation and occurs when yeasts change natural sugars to alcohol under controlled conditions. In the second process, a group of bacteria (called “Acetobacter”) converts the alcohol portion to acid. This is the acetic, or acid fermentation, that forms vinegar. Proper bacteria cultures are important; timing is important; and fermentation should be carefully controlled.

Balsamic, sherry, and red wine vinegars, always in my pantry, are just the tip of the acidic iceberg. White wine vinegar -- the product of the two-step fermentation of white grapes -- gets a workout, too.

White wine vinegar can vary in color from white to pale gold, with an acid content of 5-7 percent. Like most vinegars, it's a self-preservative that will keep almost indefinitely on the pantry shelf. A perfect base for herb vinegars (especially tarragon), white wine vinegar pairs particularly well with shellfish. It's perfect in mostarda, salads, pickled onions, gazpacho and noodles, and indispensable to a great Hollandaise or Bearnaise sauce.

CAPONATA
Adapted from Diane Seed's Top 100 Mediterranean Dishes, this flavorful sweet-sour Sicilian condiment can be served as a dip with pita triangles, or a topping to grilled swordfish or salmon. Serves 6.

2 lb eggplant (any variety)
Kosher salt
4 oz extra virgin olive oil
2 celery stalks, finely chopped
1 medium onion, finely chopped
14 oz canned Italian plum tomatoes, seeded and chopped
10 large green or black olives, pits removed, roughly chopped
2 Tbsp capers, rinsed and dried
5 Tbsp white wine vinegar
2 tsp sugar, or to taste
Black pepper, to taste
2 Tbsp pine nuts
2-3 tsp roughly chopped fresh basil leaves

Dice the eggplant and place the cubes in a colander. Sprinkle with salt, and set aside for an hour.

Heat half of the oil in a large sauté pan, and cook the celery for approximately 15 minutes over low heat before adding the onion. When the onion is soft and beginning to change color, remove the vegetables with a slotted spoon, and add the remaining oil to the pan. Turn the heat to medium-high, and add the eggplant. Cook for 10 minutes, stirring continuously. Add the tomatoes, olives and capers, and the vinegar, sugar, and a bit of pepper. Return celery and onions to the pan. Reduce heat to simmer, and cook for 15 minutes or until the mixture has thickened.

While the caponata is simmering, toast the pine nuts in a dry frying pan for 2-3 minutes, until just lightly browned. When the caponata has thickened, stir in the pine nuts and basil. Remove pan from heat. Allow to cool, and serve cold or at room temperature.

MORE VINEGARS IN THE PERFECT PANTRY:
Sherry vinegar
Balsamic vinegar
Red wine vinegar

Celery seed

If it weren't for potato salad and pickles, my celery seed would be toast.

All winter, it sits on the spice rack, pushed farther and farther to the rear of the shelf.

In summer, when I'm ready to make pickles and potato salad (Why only in summer? I don't know.), I retrieve the celery seed, dust off the jar, use a few teaspoons here and there, and send it back to its place. Every other year or so, I throw out the mostly-full but decidedly less-zesty spice, buy a new jar, and start the cycle again.

Time to admit that maybe celery seed shouldn't be in The Perfect Pantry? Time to broaden my culinary repertoire?

Time to start drinking Bloody Marys?

Celery seed -- called apio in Spanish, ajmoda in Hindi, sedano in Italian and kan-tsai in Chinese -- is not actually the seed of the leafy celery stalks that garnish those Bloody Marys, though it has the same ancestry. The seed comes from Apium graveolens, a marsh plant called smallage or wild celery, grown primarily in India but also in China, France, and California.

Light- to medium-brown in color, celery seeds have a more spicy taste than the familiar stalks of cultivated celery; in Herbs & Spices, an essential reference for any cook's library, Jill Norman describes the aroma and taste as having hints of nutmeg, citrus and parsley. Use sparingly, as that spicy taste can overwhelm. Be sure to purchase whole seed rather than ground; when ground, this spice quickly loses its balance, and the flavor becomes quite bitter.

A common ingredient in pickling, celery seed also plays an important role in cole slaw, catfish, chicken salad, and couscous.

And without celery salt -- 3 parts kosher salt mixed with 2 parts ground celery seed -- the Bloody Mary would be toast, too.

REFRIGERATOR ZUCCHINI PICKLES
Any minute now, the zucchini will begin pouring out of gardens, farm stands, and farmers' markets throughout the northern climate zones. Be prepared! If you've been thinking about buying a mandoline, this recipe, adapted slightly from Stocking Up by Carol Hupping, is a perfect excuse. Makes 4 pints or 2 quarts.

4 lbs small zucchini
1/2 lb small white onions
1 qt cider vinegar
1/2 cup honey
2 tsp celery seeds
2 tsp turmeric
2 tsp dry mustard
2 tsp mustard seeds

Cut unpeeled zucchini into thin slices, like cucumbers. Peel onions and slice thin. Place vegetables in a large stainless steel or glass bowl. In an enamel or stainless steel saucepan, combine remaining ingredients. Bring to a boil and pour over vegetables. Let stand 1 hour.

Pour vegetables and liquid into a stainless steel saucepan. Return to heat, bring to a boil, and cook 3 minutes. Pour into hot, scalded jars. Cover tightly and refrigerate.

Dark soy sauce

When the temperature soars above 90 degrees, as it did last weekend here in Rhode Island, I don't want to cook, but I still want to eat. It's the end of Vegetable Sushi Week. Day Three: the soy sauce.

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.

One of the fundamental condiments of much Asian cooking, soy sauce is made by fermenting boiled soybeans with roasted wheat or barley and a starter mold, known as koji. After the mixture ferments for a few days, a brine of sea salt and water are added, and the sauce is allowed to mature for six months or so. Then it's pasteurized, and becomes light (shoyu) soy sauce, which is what I use as an everyday condiment.

Dark soy is aged much longer, and often caramel or molasses are added to yield a brownish-black color and thicker consistency. Because its dark color and stronger flavor can ruin some delicate dishes, it's used more for cooking, especially red-cooked dishes, than as a drizzle-on condiment. Dark soy tastes slightly sweeter (duh.... the added caramel) and less salty than light soy.

A well-stocked pantry should have both dark and light soy, as they're often combined in recipes to achieve the perfect balance of sweet and salty. I always have both, plus a reduced-sodium Japanese-style soy sauce made by Kikkoman. In addition, I keep mushroom soy in the refrigerator (a good option for vegetarians), and I'm planning to pick up some wheat-free soy sauce to have on hand for gluten-free cooking. Though I don't use them often, I have black soy, tamari, and kecap manis, too.

With dark soy on hand, you can have fun making pulled pork, fried vermicelli, tea-leaf eggs, stir-fried tofu with basil, sea bass with ginger and spring onions, kung pao chicken, General Tso's chicken, or this wacky recipe for Dr. Pepper Chicken Wings.

Find your own favorite brand of dark soy the old-fashioned way: taste! I'm partial to the Amoy brand, but I also like Pearl River Bridge. Don't shop by color alone; make sure the label says dark soy sauce.

SWEET-SALTY-SPICY SUSHI SAUCE
For nori rolls or other sushi, there's nothing better than a bit of dipping sauce, but this also makes a wonderful dressing for cold noodles or pasta salad (thin with water to desired consistency). Makes 1/2 cup.

1/2 cup dark soy sauce
1 Tbsp honey, or more to taste
1/2 tsp wasabi sauce or wasabi paste, or more to taste
1/2 tsp grated fresh ginger root

Combine all ingredients in a jar with a tight-fitting lid, and shake well to combine. Will keep in the refrigerator for up to three days.

Horseradish sauce

Every item in my pantry falls into one of two categories: innie, or outie.

Innies — ingredients that don't stand alone, and are fundamental to the creation of a dish — include herbs and spices, grains and legumes, and dry pasta.

Outies can be innies, but they also can stand alone. Often used as garnish, or to enhance the flavor of a finished dish, my standby outies include things like yogurt, ketchup, cheeses, soy sauce, and my brand-new favorite: horseradish sauce.

Horseradish, a perennial cultivated for its large, white root, is a member of the mustard family, like cauliflower, Brussels sprouts and the garden radish we use in salads. Horseradish is quite mild in flavor — until it is ground or grated; when the root cells are crushed, volatile oils known as isothiocyanate are released. Vinegar stops this reaction and stabilizes the flavor; the point at which the vinegar is added determines the potency of the finished product.

Bookbinder's Creamy Horseradish Sauce has been kicking up my cooking for the past few months, ever since it flew off the grocery store shelf (in the condiment aisle) and landed in my shopping cart. This particular brand contains good stuff (water is listed as the first ingredient, followed by soybean oil and actual horseradish, as well as distilled vinegar), and not-so-good-for-you stuff (high fructose corn syrup, which balances the heat of the horseradish root).

Horseradish sauce, traditionally served in England with roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, tastes amazing as a condiment on my grandmother's beef brisket or turkey burgers. Mixed with cocktail sauce, it makes a potent dip for cold poached shrimp.

Best of all, this outie really livens up the boiled chicken stripped from the carcass after making stock. I hate to throw the meat away, but it gives up most of its flavor to the stock. Sassy horseradish sauce (it actually says "sassy" on the label) revives the overcooked meat, and a little bit mixed in with Miracle Whip (I know, I know....) and some diced celery makes a darned good chicken salad.

HORSERADISH DIP
This dip is equally delicious with grilled shrimp, lamb or chicken kabobs, or crudites. Serves 6.

1 cup Hellman's mayonnaise
3 Tbsp creamy horseradish sauce
1 Tbsp fresh lemon juice, or more to taste
1 tsp sugar or sugar substitute, or more to taste
2 Tbsp chopped fresh herb (dill, for shrimp; rosemary, for lamb; thyme and parsley, for chicken)
Salt and black pepper to taste

Mix all ingredients, and chill for an hour to allow flavors to blend.

Dijon mustard

Fall foliage colors, day two.

Who can forget the commercial — it ran on television forever — two limosines pull up next to each other, the windows silently roll down, and from one, an outstretched arm and a mellifluous voice, asking,

"Pardon me, but do you have any Grey Poupon?"

"But of course," comes the disembodied reply from the other car.

The jar of dijon mustard changes hands, and we're left to believe that no self-respecting chauffeur-driven limosine would be without this most famous of condiments.

I don't know about limos, but my pantry wouldn't be without Dijon mustard. Never mind how very good it is on a grilled chicken sandwich; it's the secret ingredient in my homemade marinara sauce, beef stew, and other dishes that love a bit of undefinable tang. Usually I have Grey Poupon, which is easy to find in my local markets; sometimes I keep a jar of Maille, too.

Mustard-making in the Dijon region of Frances dates to the 13th century. Grey Poupon mustard came on the market in 1777, when a Mr. Grey and a Mr. Poupon (no kidding) formed a partnership. Grey had developed the recipe; Poupon had the money to back the venture. Though the original Grey Poupon store still stands in downtown Dijon, most of the world's mustard is made from seeds grown in Canada.

Dijon mustard is made from husked black mustard seeds, blended with wine or vinegar, salt, and spices. It is pale yellow, with no artificial coloring agents allowed, and varies from mild to very hot.

An essential ingredient in many French sauces, Dijon mustard pairs well with vegetables (as in this recipe for cucumbers in dill sauce), chicken and beef (carpaccio, anyone?). It also cuts the oiliness of salmon and bluefish.

Pardon me....do you have any Grey Poupon in your pantry?

FRENCH POTATO SALAD WITH BASIC VINAIGRETTE
Every cook develops his or her basic all-purpose vinaigrette. Here’s mine. If you like your dressing a bit sweeter, or are including fruit in your salad, try adding 1 tsp of honey. Serves 8.

3 lbs Yukon gold potatoes, scrubbed clean but not peeled
1 cup roughly chopped flat-leaf parsley
Sea salt and coarse black pepper, to taste

For the vinaigrette:
1/3 cup red wine or sherry vinegar
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp freshly ground black pepper
2/3 cup fruity extra-virgin olive oil

In a large pot, place the potatoes (cut in half if large) and cold water to cover. Bring to a boil, then simmer for 15-20 minutes or until potatoes are tender. Meanwhile, combine all vinaigrette ingredients in a jar, and shake to emulsify. When the potatoes are cooked, drain, and remove potatoes to a cutting board. As soon as they are cool enough to handle, slice into 1/4-inch thick slices and place in a large bowl. Add the vinaigrette and parsley, and toss gently until the potatoes are coated. Add salt and pepper to taste.

Cocoa powder

Sometimes I uncover an item in my pantry that's a bit of mystery. I know I should have it. In fact, I'm never without it. I just don't know why.

Cocoa powder is the mystery du jour.

What, exactly, is cocoa powder? What makes some of it Dutch-processed? Is natural cocoa powder better, or just different?

Here's what I've learned.

Unsweetened cocoa powder results from the pressing of chocolate liquor to remove most of the cocoa butter. The remaining cocoa solids are processed to make a fine powder. There are two types: natural, and Dutch-processed.

In 1778, the Dutch brought cacao from the Philippines to Sumatra, where they established a propagation facility that enabled major production in the region. In 1828, Conrad van Hooten, a Dutch chemist, patented a technique for pressing most of the fat from roasted and crushed cocoa beans, improving the digestibility of the resulting powder. The addition of alkaline salts neutralized the acids in the cocoa, making it more easily soluble in liquids. This "Dutch cocoa", as it came to be called, has a mild flavor, and must be used with baking powder or other acidic ingredients.

Natural unsweetened cocoa powder is more intense in color and flavor; when used in a recipe that calls for baking soda (an alkali), it creates a leavening agent.

Though it's always best to use the type of cocoa powder specified in a recipe, in a pinch (ha ha) you can substitute one kind of cocoa powder for another:

• For 3 Tbsp Dutch-processed cocoa, substitute 3 Tbsp natural cocoa powder plus 1/8 tsp baking soda.
• For 3 Tbsp natural cocoa, substitute 3 Tbsp Dutch-processed cocoa plus 1/8 tsp cream of tartar or 1/8 tsp lemon juice or vinegar.

(At the moment, I happen to have Droste, a Dutch-processed brand, in the pantry. Other popular brands: Valrhona and Lindt. Some natural cocoa powder brands: Ghirardelli, Scharffen Berger, and good old Hershey's.)

We always think of cocoa as a sweetener, but unsweetened cocoa is an ancient food that features in the cuisines of Brazil, Mexico (think molé), and other countries in the cacao-growing bands a few degrees north and south of the Equator.

COCOA-CUMIN-ALLSPICE RUB
The surprise hit of the #1 Cooking Group's recent cooking session on dry rubs and wet mops. We rubbed this on venison tenderloins and cooked them on the grill. Oh, baby! Adapted from Cooks Illustrated. Makes about 1/3 cup.

1    Tbsp unsweetened cocoa
4    tsp ground cumin
2    tsp ground allspice
4    tsp black peppercorns
2    tsp kosher salt

Grind all ingredients in a dedicated spice grinder (don't use your coffee mill) or mortar until no whole peppercorns remain.

Garam masala

What happens when a good-for-nothing handsome hunk like Mac finds himself in possession of an empty flat and access to three gorgeous air hostesses, Priti, Sweety and Puja? I have no idea, but you will, if you settle in with Garam Masala — a 2005, three-hour, Bollywood movie extravaganza! Indian movies that combine song and dance, love triangles, drama, comedy, and daredevil thrills are called masala movies, because, like masalas — spice blends — they are a mixture of many things.

Visit one hundred kitchens in India, and you'll find one hundred different versions of garam masala, the spice mixture at the heart of northern Indian and Pakistani cooking.

One of the few spice blends used in Indian cooking, garam masala is pungent but not spicy-hot, and it's usually added at the end of the cooking to bring an extra burst of flavor to the dish. Most often made of whole spices that are toasted and then used whole or ground, garam masala varies from one cook to the next, and from one spice seller to another.

Currently I have Penzeys' version of garam masala on my spice rack. Penzeys uses a "recipe" brought to them by a customer who grew up in the Punjab; it contains coriander, black pepper, cardamom, cinnamon, kalonji, caraway, cloves, ginger and nutmeg. Garam masala can have as few as three ingredients, or as many as a dozen or more.

In every kitchen, the masala dabba, a spice box with two lids to keep the contents fresh, holds the key to the family's culinary traditions and memories — and it holds little containers for seven ingredients that combine and recombine to make the masalas and curries that are a cook's trademark.

By the way, a masala dabba can hold any combination of spices in your own kitchen, even if you don't do a lot of Indian cooking. Mine occasionally has Latin flavors — cumin, chili powder, pepper, oregano, etc. — or baking spices like cinnamon, ground cloves, and cardamom.

And if you're settling in for that three-hour movie, you could fill the little containers in the masala dabba with M&Ms, peanuts, or jelly beans.

MINT CHUTNEY
In a wonderful store in Assonet, Massachusetts, that specializes in rare and used cookbooks, I found a book humbly titled Indian Cooking, by Savitri Chowdhary, published in London in 1954. There's an abundance of mint in my herb garden at the moment, so this recipe caught my eye as I paged through the book. The author's charming measuring system leaves much to the cook's discretion. Serves 5.

6 medium-sized spring onions
1 teacupful ready-to-use mint
1 tsp salt
1 tsp sugar
2 medium-sized minced green chiles or 1/2 tsp chili powder
1/2 tsp garam masala
1 Tbsp dried pomegranate seeds (anardana)
1 dessertspoonful ground mango or 1 Tbsp lemon juice

Wash the onions, throwing away only the tough green leaves. Wash the mint under running water, and mince these two things and the fresh green chiles together. Put them in a mortar, add salt, sugar and garam masala and crush for several minutes with the pestle. Take out and place aside on a plate. Sort and rinse the dried pomegranate seeds, and crush them in the mortar separately, then put the half-prepared chutney back in the mortar and crush and mix thoroughly. Lastly add the ground mango or lemon juice and mix once again. Transfer to a glass dish and serve.

Mint chutney will keep for a day or two, but is tastier when freshly made.

Colman's Mustard

My mother always kept a tin of Colman's dry mustard on her spice shelf. I never saw her cook with it, but lately I've been wondering whether she snuck it into meatloaf or marinara sauce. That's what I do.

In 1814, Jeremiah Colman, a flour miller of ten years' experience, took over a mustard manufacturing business based in a water mill on the river Tas, four miles south of Norwich, England. In 1823, Jeremiah took his adopted nephew, James, into partnership in the new firm J & J Colman. In 1866 the distinctive red and yellow livery was introduced to the label, and the company was granted a Royal Warrant as manufacturers to Queen Victoria.

According to Waitrose Food Illustrated, mustard seed used to be ground right at the dining table, much as black pepper is today. Colman's mustard, a blend of two varieties — white for flavor and brown for potency — was milled to obtain a powder, a fashion popularized by another mustard manufacturer, Keen & Company, which some say is the origin of the phrase "keen as mustard". Colman's bought Keen in 1903; mega-conglomerate Unilever bought Colman's in 1995.

Colman's calls its dry mustard the "not-so-mellow yellow", so beware; it's hot stuff. To prepare, combine equal parts of Colman’s and a liquid such as water, wine, vinegar, beer, milk or cream. Let the mixture stand for ten minutes, for the full flavor to develop.

The French tarragon in my herb garden went berserk last week. It's not supposed to do all that well here in Climate Zone 5, but this year I've got tarragon on steroids — a perfect excuse to make honey and tarragon mustard, using mustard seed and Colman's Mustard.

COARSE-GROUND MUSTARD WITH HONEY AND TARRAGON
Mix with mayonnaise, toss with chicken and celery, and you'll have a summer salad with pizazz. Makes 4 cups.

1 cup light or dark mustard seed
6 Tbsp dry mustard powder, lightly packed
1-1/3 cups water
1-1/2 cup rice vinegar
6 Tbsp mild-flavored honey
4 tsp salt, or less to taste
2 Tbsp chopped fresh tarragon leaves

Combine mustard seed, mustard powder and water in a food processor or blender, and process to a coarse puree.  Let the mixture stand uncovered, at room temperature, for at least one hour and up to four hours. Stir occasionally.  Combine mustard mixture with the vinegar, honey, salt and tarragon.  Process in food processor or blender to the texture that you like, coarse or creamy.  Store in clean, dry jars, tightly capped in a cupboard, where it will mellow gradually.  The mustard will be ready to use in a few days. 

Fish sauce

When you taste something wonderful in a restaurant, and you ask for the recipe, and the owner himself shares the recipe with you — and you've written it down, so you won't leave anything out — you expect to be able to recreate that wonderful taste in your own kitchen.

So why did it take me years to make nuoc cham, the mother condiment of all Vietnamese cuisine, that tastes like it does in a restaurant?

The answer is in the fish sauce, and, as I discovered, all fish sauce is not created equal.

Asian fish sauce, made from anchovies, salt and water, is called nuoc mam in Vietnam, and in Thailand, nam pla. It's salty, and smelly, and indispensable in Vietnamese and Thai cooking, where it plays the role soy sauce plays in Chinese cookery. The quality and taste of fish sauces vary widely, and I tried many before I found one that yielded the taste I was seeking.

Three Crabs brand is the one I've been using for years. It's a bit different from other fish sauces available in my Asian supermarket, because it contains fructose, which makes it sweeter and also smoother than the naturally processed brands. To me, all that matters is that Three Crabs makes authentic-tasting nuoc cham, an all-important condiment and dipping sauce for salad rolls (see tomorrow's post) and noodle salads.

Oh...it's great in other Asian recipes, too.

NUOC CHAM (Vietnamese dipping sauce)
Keeps in the fridge for a month or more. Makes 1-1/2 cups (approx.)

1/2 tsp chili paste with garlic (Lan Chi brand is best)
2/3 cup hot water
1/4 cup sugar (or less, to taste)
1/4 cup fish sauce (use Three Crabs brand with pink label to achieve best flavor)
Juice of 1/2 lime

Place all ingredients in a small jar with a tight-fitting lid. Shake!

Red wine vinegar

Last April, after a cooking class in my kitchen for the 16 women in my friend Laura's book group, I found two large unfinished bottles of wine, one red, one white. I'd read about making wine vinegar by simply exposing wine to air for at least three weeks, so I popped the corks, marked VINEGAR on each bottle, and let them hang out in the kitchen.

It worked!

Red wine vinegar, the go-to vinegar in French cuisine and a popular choice for salad dressings everywhere, is made from matured red wine, so it stands to reason that the better the wine, the better the vinegar. When the ethanol in the wine is allowed to oxidize, or is in contact with a starter (yes, just like sourdough bread), it forms acetic acid (vinegar).

You can buy good red wine vinegars in any market. Cooks Illustrated conducted a tasting of ten brands, and discovered a couple of supermarket vinegars, including Pompeian (above), that passed muster with their two dozen testers. I have both homemade and store-bought in the pantry.

My homemade vinegar started life as a 2004 Beaujolais Villages, but a few weeks into the process, I added another bit of leftover red wine, and then, a few weeks later, a cup of yet another vino. So now my vinegar is a mutt — a mildly acidic, pleasant blend, perfect for my summer panzanella and the chutney we make when our pears ripen in the Fall. I'll decant most of my vinegar into another bottle and cork it to stop the oxidization, but I'll leave a quarter cup in the bottle to act as a starter for the next batch.

BEET-CUCUMBER RELISH

Wayne Hansen, our local organic farmer, brought two varieties of baby beets to market this weekend. These first-of-the-season beets were the size of chocolate truffles — a harbinger of the beautiful striped Chioggia, Golden Globe, Detroit Dark, and cylindrical beets to come later in the summer. This recipe makes 3 cups of relish, a perfect accompaniment to grilled chicken, salmon or flank steak.

4 large or 6 medium beets, scrubbed, peeled, and diced
2 cucumbers, peeled, seeded and diced
10 scallions, minced
2-1/2 cups red wine vinegar
1/2 cup brown sugar
3 Tbsp minced fresh dill weed
1/2 tsp black pepper
1/2 tsp kosher salt

Combine all ingredients in a stainless steel or other nonreactive saucepan over low heat. Stirring occasionally, cook uncovered for 45 minutes, or until the beets are easily pierced with a fork. Let the mixture cool to room temperature, then refrigerate. Relish will keep for 7-10 days, or, while still hot, pack into sterilized jars and process in a boiling-water bath for 20 minutes.