The Perfect Pantry

Pimentón agridulce/smoked bittersweet paprika (Recipe: chakchouka)

Guest post and photos by Kim in Pasadena, California.

When it comes to discovering new foods and ingredients, I’m like a dog who spots a squirrel. The world simply freezes for me.

I can walk down any grocery aisle in any store, and if there is something I’ve never seen before, my brain puts on the brakes, and before I know it I am reading the label. I’m flexible, but I keep Kosher, so I read carefully.

You’d think I would whip out my BlackBerry at this point, to reveal the mystery ingredient. But I don’t own a BlackBerry, nor do I have Internet on my phone. This might sound strange coming from a computer geek who makes a living building and fixing computers.

Even if I could, looking up stuff right there and then would spoil the ride home for me. All the anticipation until I can get to my computer and Google my new-found treasure is just too delicious. The surprise of some magical taste or a new recipe can be such wonderful journey. 

Sometimes this can be a bit of a let-down (mustard oil comes to mind), sometimes downright scary (got to put black salt in that box). But then there are the times when the food gods smile upon you and you get a real treat. 

Bittersweet paprika is one of those treats.

Tequila (Recipe: tequila-lime flank steak, grilled cherry tomato salsa, and a classic margarita)

Please welcome Bryan, who with this post joins The Perfect Pantry as a guest blogger. By day, he's an experience design consultant; he's also a former bartender who studied at the Boston University Wine Resource Center. Bryan is passionate about local and sustainable food, dabbles in photography, and makes a mean mojito. He’s here to to raid that other kitchen cubbyhole most of us have: the liquor cabinet. You'll find more of Bryan's recipes at Vinilicious, which he vows to start up again.

Guest post and photos by Bryan in Boston.

I used to bartend some years back at a jazz club, and at the end of my shift it was a habit of mine to mix up a tall, classic margarita.

I’m not talking about what passes for a marg at the neighborhood Chili’s, made with dash of Jose Cuervo, a bit of triple sec, and two or three glugs of sugary sour mix. This was the real deal: 100% blue agave tequila, Cointreau, topped up with freshly squeezed lime juice, rimmed with salt crystals the size of small stones.

The jazz club doubled as a restaurant. Nothing fancy, really -- steak tips, buffalo wings, and the sort -- but after an eight-hour shift standing behind a counter and slinging cocktails to parched salsa dancers, an order of overcooked steak tips tasted like just the closest thing to heaven.

After one particularly busy night, I accidentally spilled my margarita into my steak tips. I don’t remember what I was thinking -- perhaps I was just way too hungry to pick up takeout on the way home -- but I ate them anyway. What I do remember was that they tasted better than they did when they'd come out of the kitchen. (The soaked fries, not so much.)

Tea (Recipe: "smoked" egg salad)

Please welcome Kim, who with this post joins The Perfect Pantry as guest blogger. Kim lives in Pasadena, California; she is the business manager for a local farmers market, and also the Friday cook for a nonprofit organization that gathers donated food from various locations, and makes and serves meals to the homeless. This is her first-ever blog post.

Guest post and photos by Kim in Pasadena, California

Many years ago, one of the rites of passage into womanhood was "going to tea" with my friends.

Back then, the really haute-couture department stores had their own tearooms for ladies to rest after a day's shopping. My mother would sometimes take me to tea so I would learn the proper way for a lady to act and dress.

Just about the time I came of age for tea parties, the Beatles, Rolling Stones and (for me) Jethro Tull swept me off to wilder places that were unencumbered by rules and roles. I couldn't really see going to tea in bell-bottoms and a tube top!

Coffee (Recipe: how to brew the perfect cup of coffee)

Guest post and photos by Sarah in Boston

Like every dad, mine gave his opinion freely, but there were some things he considered life skills. He couldn't understand how you would ever be able to get through life without them.

These included: how to drive a car while shifting between gears so you could glide through curves and down hills instead of using the brake; staying at a consistent speed on the highway to conserve gas (in the days before cruise control); parallel parking in three turns of the wheel. 

He also felt very strongly about his coffee. This wasn't about buying expensive coffee or the perfect coffee pots -- just the basics on how to brew a strong cup of coffee. And whether you planned to use the brewed coffee in a recipe or drink it straight, the method was still the same.

Raisins (Recipe: spinach, golden raisin and parmesan tart)

 

Guest post and photos by Peter in Brazil, chef and co-owner of Pousada do Capão

Raisins were an integral ingredient in my New England culinary upbringing. The California Sun Maid was a pantry icon, on a par with the original 1950’s versions of Vermont Maid, Betty Crocker, the Campbell's twins, Uncle Ben, and Aunt Jemima before their numerous plastic surgeries.

The brown bread that accompanied our favorite hot dogs and beans on Saturday night (i.e., bath night) had to have raisins. My father always threw a handful into the breakfast cream of wheat. Hermits weren’t hermits unless studded with those plump, sweet beauties. And nothing was better than snacking right from the box.

In my innocence, though, I knew nothing of the exotic pleasures of golden raisins.

Tamarind (Recipe: Mozambique chicken)

Guest post and photos by Peter in Brazil, chef and co-owner of Pousada do Capão

We lunched at Al Arabe Lebanese Restaurant last week during our routine weekly shopping junket to Diamantina. A cold, tall glass of tart tamarind juice, over ice and lightly sweetened with brown sugar, was just what I needed to take the edge off the noonday heat. And it was the perfect accompaniment to a plate of Ahmed’s meat kibbeh and delicious fatoosh salad.

As we returned to the center of town to finish up a few errands before heading home to São Gonçalo, I couldn’t resist buying some tamarind pods from a street vendor, whose wheelbarrow was brimming with not only tamarind, but also mangoes, okra, araticum, pequi, and other delicacies of the cerrado.

Usually I write about my pantry items that are native to Brazil and were globalized with the help of the Portuguese and Spanish explorers. Tamarind, on the other hand, is native to Africa and subsequently was naturalized all over the tropical world by colonizers and traders.

Its uses run the gamut from dyestuff to laxative to cattle fodder to furniture-making, but today I'll stick to its culinary appeal.

Eggs, or no eggs (Recipes: Wacky Cake and Poor Man's Cake)

Please welcome Sarah, who with this post joins The Perfect Pantry as guest blogger. A working artist, sculptor, and consultant on public art projects, Sarah's work has won numerous awards and fellowships, and has been featured in exhibits across the country. She is a dedicated urban gardener and coordinates a large multi-cultural community garden in Boston's South End.

Guest post and photos by Sarah in Boston

When I was a kid, my mom created a special scrapbook cookbook especially for my dad.

He was plagued with terrible headaches and swelling in his hands and feet, and assumed that he had food allergies. Through trial-and-error cooking, they concluded he must be allergic to eggs. 

As a traveling salesman, my dad had to eat most of his meals on the road, so when he came home they tried to calm his system with all his favorite comfort foods.

It wasn’t until he was in his late sixties that he was diagnosed with a rare genetic disease, hereditary angioedema -- not food allergies -- and, after treatment, to his great joy he could eat anything. But two of those egg-free desserts, made with ingredients from my mother's pantry, remained his particular favorites: Wacky Cake (in the top photo), which my mother made for family birthdays, and Poor Man’s Cake.

Tapioca (Recipe: white-on-red tapioca pudding)

Guest post and photos by Peter in Brazil, chef and co-owner of Pousada do Capão

On New Year's Eve, I needed to come up with one more dessert for my inn full of guests, to accompany the profiteroles with bittersweet chocolate sauce and the strawberry-hibiscus crostata on the buffet table.

There just wasn’t time to make another shopping trip to Diamantina, an hour away, so I turned to my perfect pantry for inspiration.

The first thing that caught my eye were the three bags of tapioca –- large pearl, small pearl, and small grains.

Kencur/lesser galangal (Recipe: Balinese green beans)

Please welcome Julia, who with this post joins The Perfect Pantry as guest blogger. A trained chef, she has worked in some of the finest restaurants in the country, and for many years ran an innovative cooking service called Interactive Cuisine. A consultant to restaurants, farms and food businesses, and an avid urban gardener, Julia blogs at Grow.Cook.Eat, where you can read more about her cooking adventures in Bali and Vietnam, and in her own kitchen in Cambridge, Massachusetts.

Guest post and photos by Julia of Grow.Cook.Eat., in Cambridge.

Ten years ago, I traveled to Southeast Asia –- to Bali -- for the first time. I didn’t know much about the cuisine before I went, but I discovered that this ruggedly beautiful island has its own cuisine, unlike that of any other part of Indonesia.

During my vacation I took a cooking course in Ubud, the cultural hub of the island. Even though my culinary school education had included two weeks of classes in Asian cooking, I quickly discovered how much I didn’t know.

The first hour of our class –- sitting in the garden under a thatched roof cabana, drinking fresh hibiscus iced tea -– was devoted to the Balinese pantry. A few of the ingredients I had used before: lemongrass, ginger, onions, garlic, chiles. Turmeric, which all of us have in our pantries in bright yellow powder form, was presented as a fresh rhizome.

Many ingredients were introduced as we learned the essentials of Balinese spicing. Most, like “torch” ginger, kaffir lime leaves and shrimp paste, were new to me. When kencur (also known as “lesser galangal”) was passed around, the distinct, pungent aroma immediately signaled its role as an essential ingredient in Balinese cuisine.

Annatto/achiote (Recipe: vaca atolada, or "cow stuck in the mud")

Guest post and photos by Peter in Brazil, chef and co-owner of Pousada do Capão

I mentioned urucum (which means "red" in the Tupi language) in my very first guest post on The Perfect Pantry as one of the 21 essential and ever-present items in any Brazilian pantry. When Lydia told me she had some urucum (achiote in Spanish, annatto in English) in her pantry just begging to be used, I figured it was time to get to work.

Annatto (the English name that might be more familiar to you), though very subtle in flavor, is huge on color. Some people swear it lends depth to food, tasting a bit of nutmeg and black pepper, but more importantly it gives that gorgeous, appetizing, mouth-watering red glow to so many Brazilian dishes: fish moquecas, chicken ensopadas, braised meats, rice and beans. The Indians loved red. The Portuguese loved red. So when the two met in the 1500s…