The Perfect Pantry

Cashews (Recipe: Muhammara, a pomegranate, pepper and nut spread)

Sometimes you feel like a nut.

Sometimes you don't.

Sometimes you feel like a peanut, walnut, pine nut, or even an almond, but sometimes you feel like a cashew, and nothing else will do.

Even though it's not a nut.

Zahtar, a Pantry Special (Recipe: fattoush, a salad of pita bread, tomato and cucumber)

Pantry Specials are great ingredients that find their way into my pantry from time to time, but not all the time. In this occasional series of short posts, you'll find information and recipes for foods that might not be on your local supermarket's shelves, but are available online.

Zahtar, zatar, za'atar: what's in a name? Though the word means thyme in Arabic, the name also refers to a blend of sumac, sesame seeds, salt and dried green herbs (thyme, usually, but sometimes oregano, marjoram or parsley). Zahtar, a popular table condiment in the Middle East, is sprinkled on or cooked with meat and vegetable dishes. Most often it's ground in a mortar and pestle, so the texture remains a bit coarse. For a perfect snack, mix zahtar with a bit of olive oil, and smear it on pita bread or pizza. And don't worry: sumac, the dominant ingredient in zahtar, is not the poison sumac we're taught to avoid in the woods. This sumac, from the dark-red berries of a shrubby tree native to the Middle East and parts of Italy, has a tart, fruity, lemony flavor.

Mahlab (Recipe: Armenian brioche filled with dates, honey and walnuts)

Today, another guest post by one of the food bloggers I've adopted through the Adopt-a-Blogger mentoring program. (Please be sure to visit their terrific blogs.) Today, meet Sandie of Inn Cuisine, the second blog I adopted. Sandie, a writer based in Kansas City, specializes in recipes from bed and breakfasts, country and urban inns, as well as cooking with local, sustainable foods. Her blog is full of recipes you'll love to have in your repertoire when entertaining family, friends and guests at home.

Guest post and photos by Sandie of Inn Cuisine.

As an avid reader of The Perfect Pantry, I have learned much from Lydia’s work: from interesting facts about ingredients I thought I knew, to discovering products and spices completely foreign to me. That’s why, when Lydia asked if I would write a guest post, my mind raced. What pantry ingredient could I feature? What recipe could I share?

In Perfect Pantry style, I decided to push myself, learn about and cook with a pantry item I had not previously heard of or experienced: mahlab.

Preserved lemons (Recipe: Couscous salad with herbs)

In the deep recesses of my pantry, large wire racks hold the cookware I don't use every day: three stacks of dim-sum size bamboo steamers, two orange mini coquettes, a plastic box of sushi-making gear, a handful of Bundt pans, three paella pans, one red cast iron karahi, and six conical-topped tagines.

Before the day I bought, on super-dooper sale, my first tagine in a tiny store that was going out of business, I knew nothing about Moroccan cooking. The shop owner included one of her favorite recipes for a traditional chicken and olive stew.

One of the ingredients listed was preserved lemons. I had no idea what they were and asked whether I could substitute fresh lemons instead.

No, no! she replied. The preserved lemons are absolutely essential.

One taste, and I knew just what she meant.

Syrian spice, a Pantry Special (Recipe: chicken shish kabob)

Pantry Specials are great ingredients that find their way into my pantry from time to time, but not all the time. In this occasional series of short posts, you'll find information and recipes for foods that might not be on your local supermarket's shelves, but are available online. 

Syrian spice, Syrian allspice, Arabic spice, baharat: what's in a name? The basic ingredients in the Syrian version of this popular North African spice blend -- black peppercorns, allspice berries, cinnamon and nutmeg -- can be enhanced with a bit of sumac, cumin, cardamom, cassia or cinnamon, paprika, cloves, rose petals, dried lime, saffron or mint. A rich and peppery (spicy, not hot) mix, Syrian spice makes a delicious rub for grilled chicken, or the base of a flavorful dip for roasted vegetables. My local Middle Eastern market blends its own, letting the pungent, complex flavor of allspice take center stage. I love it.

Grains of paradise, a Pantry Special (Recipe: tagine of lamb with apricots)

Pantry Specials are great ingredients that find their way into my pantry from time to time, but not all the time. In this occasional series of short posts, you'll find information and recipes for foods that might not be on your local supermarket's shelves, but are available online.

On a recent search for new pantry ingredients with food blogging friend TW Barritt of Culinary Types, I acquired this tin of grains of paradise -- so unfamiliar to me that I had to look it up on my phone in the middle of the store.

Popular in West African cuisine and indigenous to that part of the world, grains of paradise (also called Melegueta or alligator pepper) got its name in a medieval marketing ploy: spice traders looking for a way to inflate the price claimed that the seeds grew only in Eden, and had to be collected as they floated down the rivers out of paradise. Spices were popular in those days, but true pepper was expensive; grains of paradise was a cheaper substitute (ironically, today pepper is inexpensive, while grains of paradise is not cheap at all). The spice was widely used in England until King George III, fearing it was being used in beer and wine production, banned it.

Grains of paradise tastes pungent and fruity, a bit like pepper crossed with cardamom. A frequent component of the spice blend ras el hanout, it works well with eggplant, potatoes, lamb and poultry, squash, tomatoes, and other root vegetables. Purchased in seed form, it must be ground or crushed right before use, and is best added towards the end of the cooking time.

Is this Pantry Special new to you?

Pilaf noodles (Recipe: lentil noodle soup)

Oodles of Noodles Week, Day Three. 

For years, I didn't know the proper name for pilaf noodles.

I lived down the block from a wonderful Middle Eastern market, where the owner knew me from my days as a food writer for the local newspaper. Whenever I would ask for those noodles, he knew just what I meant.

And when Ted would go to the store, I'd write pilaf noodles on his shopping list.

It wasn't until many years later that the owner of another market taught me the Arabic name: chayreyé.

Lovely, I know, but I'm kind of sweet on the name pilaf noodles, and I guess I always will be.

Pomegranate molasses (Recipe: pomegranate snow swirls)

My Cousin Martin travels the world to search out all sorts of foods and kitchen tools for The Perfect Pantry.

Well, maybe that's not his only reason for traveling, but he does bring me wonderful things. Wooden spoons from everywhere, and ravioli cutters and gnocchi paddles. Iranian saffron. Tahitian vanilla beans and Mexican vanilla extract. Cookbooks from Costa Rica and Mongolia. Silicone baking sheets from France, years before Silpats were common here.

I've grown accustomed to these treats from far-off lands. So, when Cousin Martin unveiled his latest gift, I looked at the bottle and said oh, ho hum, more Tahitian vanilla.

But no, this was better. Much better.

The little bottle that once held precious vanilla extract from Tahiti now contained something infinitely more interesting: homemade pomegranate molasses, from his own kitchen.

Matzoh (Recipe: my dad's famous matzoh brei)

An updated post from the archives, with new photos.

My father, like all dads of the 1950s, mastered a couple of pieces of cooking equipment and had his special dishes that he produced on holidays, and on demand.

With the aid of a charcoal kettle grill in the back yard, he made the world's best lamb chops. In the electric frying pan, on Sunday mornings, he would make Spit in the Ocean, or another weird concoction that involved slices of bologna or salami floating in a sea of scrambled eggs. If that dish had a name, I've repressed it.

Every year in the Spring, my father did his best work, with a straight-sided covered sauté pan, a large melamine mixing bowl ... and his hands. Spring meant Passover, which meant matzoh, which meant matzoh brei. We ate this only once a year. And my dad was the matzoh brei king.

Allspice (Recipe: garlic chicken on skewers)

Do you think it's easy deciding where to start?

I was this close to logic and predictibility, beginning at the beginning with the quintessential pantry items: salt and pepper. And then, this morning, the universe sent me a sign. Two signs, actually.

First: While Ted was watching the World Cup soccer matches on TV, I entered all of the pantry items willy-nilly into a database on my computer, and kicked out an alphabetized list of more than 200 items that are always in my fridge, freezer, spice rack and cupboards.

Top of the list? Allspice.

Hmmm.