The Perfect Pantry

Saved by the pantry, and moving-on pasta salad

Guest post by Arlo from Ottawa, Canada

We're moving again, and at a time when life couldn’t be busier. It’s the last week of school so all kinds of year-end activities to attend, a graduation ceremony for my potential daughter-in-law, St. Jean Baptiste Day, and somewhere in-between I have to pack.

I don’t know about you, but I hate packing.

No, let me correct that. I love packing when it’s just me with a suitcase full of paperback novels and a sunny destination to look forward to. But with a carpenter husband (basement full of tools and wood), two musician sons (instruments, drums, sound equipment), one computer-fanatic son and a teenage daughter who can’t bear to part with anything she’s accumulated since grade five, it's much harder. Not that I have to actually pack for them, but they keep stealing my best packing boxes!

For the past week I've been reducing my grocery purchases and using up all my pantry and frozen food. I had just finished cleaning my refrigerator, a preferable chore to scrubbing the oven, when a friend called to remind me of our “Healing Aboriginal Women” group potluck for the next night.

How could I have forgotten?

I was so stressed I had to watch the Food Network for the next two hours to chill out.

There is nothing as calming as watching robust women cook. It’s like they actually eat the meals they prepare, as opposed to surviving on the tiny spoonfuls they taste. But even Nigella and Ina could not inspire me. That day, their recipes all required a trip to the butcher shop or the ocean, and I had barely enough time to look for my favourite lucky potluck bowl (packed, somewhere). Plus my dish had to have NO meat, seafood, eggs, cheese or peanuts (just to be safe). We healing Aboriginal women are a fussy bunch.

In my newly cleaned vegetable bin, I had one lonely small red onion, a garlic bulb, very ripe cherry tomatoes, a greenish green pepper, a sad bunch of parsley and half a lemon. Compost bin stuff, really, but I was determined to use everything. The next day was full of appointments and no time to shop, so I thought -- Arlo, just improvise!

I went to my trusty (and yet un-packed) pantry, and dug out:

• Seashell pasta
• Can of chopped artichokes
• Can of black Spanish olives
• Small jar of capers
• Jar of roasted red peppers
• Sunflower seeds
• Lemon juice in a cute squirt bottle
• Teensy sample jar of Dijon mustard
• Balsamic and red wine vinegars
• Extra virgin olive oil
• Italian and Greek seasonings
• Chile flakes, black pepper, sea salt

I was cooking for seven, many with dietary issues. I did secretly pack some feta cheese, on the side and covered, so the vegans wouldn’t be offended. Tofu would have worked, too.

Although I couldn’t think of a traditional Native dish that met everyone’s requirements (Deep fried rosehips? Fiddleheads? Boiled mountain water?!), I did come up with a dish we all thought was delicious.

Saved by my pantry, once again.

HEALING-AND-MOVING-ON PASTA SALAD
A great dish for healing, packing, moving, and potlucks. Improvise from your own pantry. Serves 8.

2 lbs dried pasta
1 small onion
1 small green pepper
Cherry tomatoes, as many as you wish
Small handful of parsley
3-4 cloves garlic, to taste
1 lemon
1 can each, drained: artichokes (hearts or chopped), black pitted olives, roasted red peppers, capers
1 Tbsp Italian seasoning
1 Tbsp Greek seasoning
1/4 tsp crushed chile flakes
1 Tbsp sea salt
1/2 tsp black pepper
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1 large squirt lemon juice
3 Tbsp balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup red wine vinegar
2/3 cup extra virgin olive oil
A few sunflower seeds, for garnish

Cook pasta according to package directions. When al dente (just about cooked), drain and rinse. Place in large bowl.

While pasta is cooking, dice onion, green pepper, tomatoes, and parsley (save a few pieces to garnish). Finely grate the garlic. Zest the lemon (I use the same tool, so the lemon cleans the garlic out of the grater). Drain and roughly chop the artichokes, black olives, roasted red peppers, and capers.

In a jar, shake a tablespoon each of Italian and Greek seasoning, a quarter teaspoon crushed chile flakes, tablespoon sea salt, half teaspoon black pepper, big teaspoon Dijon mustard, juice of the lemon, 3 tablespoons balsamic vinegar,  one quarter cup red wine vinegar, and two thirds cup olive oil. Shake to combine.

Mix everything together, and present in a pretty dish. (This is easier if remember where you packed your pretty dish. I used an ice bucket with handle to transport and second-choice lucky potluck bowl to serve). Garnish with sunflower seeds and parsley.

I wish I’d remembered to add that can of chickpeas on the counter. You won't forget, will you?

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Clean-the-fridge chicken soup
Twisted three sisters soup
Curried pasta salad
Curried orzo chicken salad
Fregula sarda with leeks and sausage

 

Dijon mustard, in a beet and onion salad

When I was growing up, mustard came in three varieties: hot dog, corned beef sandwich, and Chinese food.

Hot dog mustard was French's, yellow, All-American ball park, mild.

Corned beef sandwiches got a slather of Gulden's, spicy brown, or similar "deli" mustards from Zabar's or Katz's.

And Chinese food mustard came with take-out, in little no-name plastic packets. It could take the hair off your head and clear out your sinuses. Sometimes, my parents mixed their own, with Colman's, English, incendiary.

We never had Dijon mustard, though the foods of my Eastern European culinary heritage cried out for the sharpness of mustard to balance the blandness of the boiled meats. These days, my own kitchen is never without Dijon, usually Grey Poupon, and often Maille, too.

According to The Oxford Companion to Food, by Alan Davidson, "mustard has always been important in Europe, because it grows locally and is therefore the cheapest of spices."

Davidson also writes that many royal courts in medieval times employed a mustardarius -- someone whose sole responsibility was to oversee the growing and preparation of mustard. (How's that for a job description?) To make prepared mustard, seeds (brown, black, white, yellow) are soaked in water, which activates the enzyme myrosinase. When the desired heat level is achieved, the activation is stopped with an acidic liquid, usually wine (for stronger mustards) or vinegar (milder). The level of enzyme action combined with the acid used gives a mustard its flavor. Obviously, the mustardarius had quite a bit of control over the taste and strength of the final product.

Dijon contains no turmeric, the ingredient that gives yellow mustard its yellow; in the photo, Dijon is on the left, and hot dog mustard is on the right. Dijon mustard also has no carbs, no fat, no trans fat, and only five calories per teaspoon. It can be stored for several months at room temperature, but I always refrigerate after opening.

Though I didn't grow up with Dijon, it's the secret ingredient (oops, now the secret's out) in my spaghetti sauce, and essential to help emulsify a vinaigrette for a Caesar salad. The acidity helps balance the richness of salmon, chicken, roasted veggies and bacon, too.

And, in a major break with family tradition, I use it on hot dogs and corned beef sandwiches all the time.
 

BEET AND ONION SALAD
Simple, and simply delicious. Serves 6.

6 medium-size fresh beets (approx. 2-3/4 lbs)
1-1/2 tsp olive oil
1 cup onion, sliced vertically
3 Tbsp lemon juice
1 tsp balsamic vinegar
1 tsp Dijon mustard
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1/8 tsp fresh ground pepper

Leave root and 1 inch of stem on beets; scrub well with a vegetable brush. Place in a heavy pot or Dutch oven, and add water to cover. Bring to a boil, cover, reduce heat, and simmer 35 minutes or until just tender. Drain, rinse with cold water and drain again. When the beets are cool, trim off stems and roots, and rub off the skins. Slice beets and set aside. 

Add 1 tsp oil to a small frying pan and place over medium heat. When the oil is hot, add onion and sauté until tender. Combine beets and onion in a bowl and set aside. In a small bowl, mix remaining 1/2 tsp oil, lemon juice, vinegar, mustard, salt and pepper. Stir well, pour over vegetables and toss.

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Deviled eggs
Chicken fingers
Grilled chicken salad
Root-vegetables-with-beef stew

 

Spike seasoning, in grilled chicken salad

Helmut Eugen Benjamin Gellert Hauser must have had the world's most perfect pantry.

How else could he have concocted the latest addition to my own pantry -- his famous Spike seasoning -- which combines 39 ingredients (Really. 39. Can you count them in the photograph?):

Salt and sea salt crystals, special high potency non-active nutritional yeast grown on beet molasses, hydrolyzed vegetable protein (the box says NO ADDED MSG, but we'll come back to this), mellow toasted onion, onion powder, orange powder, soy flour, celery leaf powder, celery root powder, garlic powder, dill, kelp, Indian curry, horseradish, ripe white pepper, orange and lemon peel, summer savory, mustard flower, sweet green and red peppers, parsley flakes, tarragon, rosehips, saffron, mushroom powder, parsley powder, spinach powder, tomato powder, sweet Hungarian paprika, celery powder, cayenne pepper, Greek oregano, French sweet basil, French marjoram, French rosemary, and Spanish thyme.

Gayelord Hauser, as he was known, was a German-born naturopath, nutritionist to the stars, and, it's rumored, more-than-a-friend of Greta Garbo.

As a teenager, he moved to the United States, and shortly afterwards contracted tuberculosis. Sent to Sweden to be treated by a monk who used herbal and dietary cures, Hauser made a full recovery, and upon his return to the US, embarked on the study of "food science." He's best known as the author of Look Younger; Live Longer, published in 1950 way ahead of the eat-to-live curve. Though he died in 1984, Hauser's seasonings have been manufactured in Wisconsin by Modern Products Inc. for more than 50 years.

Available in supermarkets and online (the 7-ounce box sells for $4.99), Spike comes in salt-free and flavored blends -- garlic, lemon pepper, hot and spicy -- and adds awesome flavor and instant umami to cottage cheese and egg breakfast muffins, turkey meatloaf, poutine, garlic shrimp stir fry and spicy chickpeas, beef and cilantro.

Though the package says NO ADDED MSG, Spike does contain hydrolyzed vegetable protein, which is a form of glutamic acid, or monosodium glutamate. (To learn more, read this article and this one and this one.)

I am one of those people who turns beet red in Chinese restaurants that cook with MSG, but I love Spike, and I haven't had an MSG reaction when I've used it. Doesn't mean the MSG isn't there, just that the amount of it used at any one time is miniscule and doesn't seem to affect me.

What does affect me is flavor, and the flavor is great. I'll be using this all-purpose seasoning on grilled foods, eggs, veggies, and in salad dressings all summer. Thanks, Kalyn, for introducing Spike to my pantry.

GRILLED CHICKEN SALAD
When friends drop in unexpectedly, toss this chicken salad with some Dreamfields rotini and grilled asparagus to make a complete meal. Serves 4.

1-1/2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts
1 Tbsp Spike seasoning
1/2 tsp fresh ground black pepper
2 tsp olive oil
1/4 cup mayonnaise or Miracle Whip
2 tsp Dijon mustard
1 tsp fresh thyme leaf
1/4 cup chopped celery

Trim the fat from the chicken breasts, and place on a platter. Sprinkle on both sides with Spike and ground pepper. Drizzle on the olive oil, and turn to coat. Set aside.

Heat a grill to high heat. Cook the chicken breasts for 4 minutes per side, or until cooked through. Remove from grill and set aside.

While the chicken is cooling, combine mayonnaise, mustard and thyme leaf in a large mixing bowl. Add the chopped celery. Chop the chicken breasts, and add to the bowl. Toss to combine. Serve warm or chilled, in a sandwich or salad, with or without pasta.

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Curried orzo chicken salad
Brick-grilled chicken breasts
Curried shrimp and pasta salad
Roasted pepper chicken

 

Dal (lentils), in an herb and feta salad

When I was in college -- okay, when I was in high school -- and my friends and I talked about mood-enhancing substances, we weren't talking about serotonin.

We weren't talking about lentils, either.

Though my misspent youth is far behind me, my body still craves all the mood enhancement it can get, and legumes (lentils, beans and peas) are a good source of serotonin, a neurotransmitter that makes you feel mood-enhanced: balanced, relaxed and happy. With too little serotonin, you end up feeling cranky, sleep-deprived, a bit anxious, sugar-deficient, and in a generally bad mood.

I'm not sure why, but I call brown and green lentils lentils, and pink, white and yellow ones dal. Really, the difference isn't the color; dal are lentils that have been hulled and split.

Stored in a glass jar with a tight-fitting lid, dal will keep for up to two years. Some of the dal that have graced my pantry, in addition to the plain brown and Puy green lentils, are:

• Masoor dal, lentils (red or salmon pink; the ones in the photo)
• Channa dal, split chickpeas (yellow; I always have these)
• Urd (or urad) dal, lentil-like beans (black or, when skinless, white)
• Tur (or toor, or toovar) dal, pigeon peas (orange)
• Moong dal, mung beans (cream or yellow)
• Muth (or moth) dal, beans (brownish green with yellow interior)
• Muttar (or matar) dal, peas (green or white)

Most often, we think of dal as fundamental to Indian cuisine, whether served thick, like a stew, or thin. But now that lentils have been identified as one of the world's healthiest foods, they're lightening up a wide range of dishes, including black bean salad, burgers, tacos and even fudge.

To me, lentils of all types and colors mean one thing: soup, soup, and more soup. And with all that serotonin, I'll be happy, happy, and more happy.

RED LENTIL, SPINACH AND FETA SALAD
Inspired by a recipe in Happy Food by Marlisa Szwillus, this nutrient-rich, picnic-friendly salad serves 2. Can be doubled.

2 tsp olive oil
2 tsp chopped fresh rosemary or thyme leaves
4 oz red lentils
1 cup vegetable stock or water
2 Tbsp white wine vinegar
Kosher salt and fresh black pepper, to taste
1 Tbsp olive oil
2 scallions, thinly sliced
2 oz baby spinach leaves
4 oz feta cheese, crumbled

Heat 2 tsp olive oil in a saucepan over medium heat, and briefly sauté the rosemary or thyme, just to bring out the aroma. Add the lentils and vegetable stock, cover, and simmer over lowest heat for 10 minutes or until lentils are cooked but not totally mushy.

Drain the lentils and add to a mixing bowl. In a small bowl, stir together the vinegar, salt and pepper, and 1 Tbsp olive oil. Add half to the lentils, and stir to combine. Add remaining ingredients, including remaining dressing, and mix well. Serve warm or at room temperature.

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Punjab Five Jewels
One-of-everything lentil soup
Spiced lentils with squash and raisins
Lentils with spinach and preserved lemons
Mulligatawny soup

 

Rice vermicelli, in bun gao noodle salad

An updated post from the archives, with a new photo.

My name is Lydia, and I'm a noodle-holic.

You know the drill.

"Hi, Lydia."

If there's a Noodles Anonymous chapter nearby, please let me know. I need it. I have never, ever, met a noodle I didn't love. I'd like to think I'm picky, like a chocoholic who eschews Hershey bars for cacao with a pedigree. But when it comes to noodles, I'm not picky, and my pantry proves it.

One shelf stocks Italian pasta: rotini, gemelli, cavatappi, spaghetti (much of it low-carb these days). Farfalle and lasagna. Orzo and teeny weeny ditalini. On another shelf, there's a stash of Asian noodles, with exotic names like banh pho, lo mein, banh trang, cellophane noodles (translucent, made from mung beans) and rice vermicelli.

Wait a minute.

Vermicelli — isn't that Italian? What's it doing on the Asian shelf?

Popular in every Asian cuisine, rice vermicelli, a.k.a. rice sticks, a.k.a. mi fen or mee fun in Chinese, sen mee in Thai, maifun in Japanese, bihoon in Tagalog, banh hoi in Vietnamese and bee hoon in Malay, probably originated in China, which has been called the mother cuisine of all Asian cooking.

Product labeling is inconsistent; what's called rice vermicelli comes in a variety of thicknesses, from thread-like to the flattened ribbons resembling fettucini, commonly used in making pad thai. You want to buy the thin noodles, the ones that look like Italian vermicelli (thinner than spaghetti). Shop with your eyes, and read the ingredients on the label (always listed in English, for packaged food sold in the US) to make sure what you're buying is made from rice and water.

Dried rice noodles need a bit of a presoak, in warm tap water for 15-20 minutes. Then, drop the noodles into boiling water for 1-2 minutes. Rinse under cold water, and drain, and you're good to go for mee siam, prawn and coconut laksa, Singapore rice noodles or crab-filled summer rolls.

BUN GAO (rice noodle salad with chicken)
With the components cooked, shredded and chopped, and stored in the fridge, this main-course salad takes only minutes to assemble, and it's one of my favorite warm-weather meals. You can substitute grilled pork, shrimp, beef or tofu for the chicken. Serves 6.

1-1/2 lb rice vermicelli
Leftover cooked chicken (1 lb for 6 people), or store-bought rotisserie chicken
2 carrots
1 English (seedless) cucumber
3/4 small head of iceberg lettuce, shredded thinly
Handful of spearmint leaves
1/2 lb mung bean sprouts, rinsed and drained
Chopped peanuts (dry roasted, unsalted), for topping -- a few tablespoons

Nuoc cham OR
Chinese peanut dressing, thinned with water to desired consistency

Fill a bowl with hot water. Soak the rice vermicelli for 15 minutes, until flexible. Drain. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Drop in the rice vermicelli, and cook for 1 minute. Drain, rinse under cold water, and drain again.

Add the cooked rice vermicelli to a large bowl. Grate the carrots and cucumber with a box grater (on the side with the largest holes), and add to the noodles. Add the lettuce, bean sprouts and mint leaves. Top with chicken. Toss with nuoc cham or peanut dressing. Top with chopped peanuts and serve. (If assembling the salad ahead, don’t add the dressing until you are ready to serve.)

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Faux pho
Nime chow (goi cuon)
Salmon-pesto potstickers
Vietnamese rice stick noodle salad with caramelized shrimp
Pad Thai

 

Soy sauce, in a gingery cabbage salad

The last time I wrote about lower-sodium soy sauce, I took a photo of the little bottle in my refrigerator.

Yesterday, I took a photo of the jug that's now in my fridge. You know what they say about something that comes in a jug, like the jug wine we used to drink in my college days.

It's cheap.

And you probably use it a lot.

True, and true. I have six other kinds of soy sauce -- Chinese light, dark, mushroom, and black; Japanese tamari; Indonesian kecap manis -- in my pantry, but Kikkoman less-sodium is the only one I buy by the jug.

Soy sauce is an ancient product, originally a salty paste that later came to be used as two separate foods: the liquid shoyu (soy sauce), and miso.

This lower-sodium (or less sodium) sauce is brewed, and after the fermentation (aging) process is complete, 40 percent of the sodium is removed. Though not as salty as regular brewed soy sauce, the reduced-sodium product works in harmony with very salty oyster sauce in the Cantonese Trinity (soy sauce, oyster sauce, sesame oil) and Spicy Trinity (soy sauce, oyster sauce, chili paste with garlic) that are fundamental seasonings for my stir-fry dishes.

Kikkoman lower-sodium soy sauce has a lighter flavor than some other brands and certainly than full-sodium varieties, so it's best added to sauces or lighter dishes, or as part of the Trinity seasonings. I love this soy sauce in salad dressings and with fish, but also in meatier recipes like chow fun, chicken wings, or beef and bell pepper with black bean sauce.

Once opened, soy sauce likes to be kept in the fridge, where it will be happy for 6-12 months.

If you don't think you'll use this amount in less than a year... well, you're not quite ready to step up to the jug.

GINGERED CHICKEN AND NAPA CABBAGE SALAD
Try making this with beef instead of chicken, or with tofu. Or with no protein at all; simply use the marinade as a salad dressing. Adapted from a recipe in Gourmet. Serves 6.

For the marinade:
2 Tbsp lower-sodium soy sauce
2 Tbsp fresh lime juice
1 Tbsp rice vinegar
1 Tbsp grated peeled fresh ginger
1/4 tsp chili paste with garlic, or more to taste

3/4 lb boneless, skinless chicken breast, all visible fat trimmed
2 tsp vegetable oil
1/2 lb fresh shiitake mushrooms, stems discarded, caps sliced
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 cup water
1 Tbsp agave nectar (or honey)
1 small Napa cabbage (approx 1-1/2 lbs), trimmed and sliced thin crosswise
1 medium red bell pepper, cut into thin strips
1 Asian pear or Bosc pear, cut into 1/4-inch julienne strips
2 scallions, sliced thin
1/2 cup packed fresh cilantro

In a shallow bowl, stir together marinade ingredients. Add chicken to marinade, turning to coat, and marinate at room temperature 15 minutes. Remove chicken from marinade, letting excess drip off, and reserve marinade. In a small nonstick skillet, heat oil over moderately high heat until hot but not smoking, and sauté the chicken about 5 minutes on each side. Transfer to a cutting board and let rest. (This would also be fabulous cooked on the grill.)

In any drippings remaining in skillet, cook mushrooms with salt, stirring frequently, until golden, about 3 minutes. Add reserved marinade, water and agave nectar, and bring to a boil. Remove skillet from heat and cool mixture for 10 minutes.

In a large bowl combine cabbage, bell pepper, pear, scallions, and cilantro. Add mushroom mixture and toss to coat. Cut chicken into thin slices and arrange on top.

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Salmon fried rice
Beef and broccoli stir fry
Spicy turkey rolls
Hot and sour soup
Moo shu chicken
Broccoli eggrolls
Rotini with spicy meat sauce

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

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

Seasoned rice vinegar, Asian slaw

Take a good look at the last bottle of seasoned rice vinegar I'm ever going to have in The Perfect Pantry.

Beautiful, isn't it? Clear, and light. Well, lite, as it says on the label. And that's part of the problem.

Seasoned rice vinegar is rice vinegar (also known as rice wine vinegar) with salt and sugar (and sometimes sake) added. That's it -- no big mystery. Also known as sushi vinegar, seasoned rice vinegar makes a nice dressing for salads or vegetables, and it saves time when you're making sushi rice -- not that dissolving a bit of sugar and salt in plain rice vinegar is such a taxing task (it takes two minutes on the stove).

The folks at Marukan claim that this "lite" seasoned rice vinegar has 32% less sodium than the regular seasoned rice vinegar; it's also lower in acidity (4.1% acidity for regular rice vinegar, 2.7% for the "lite").

Both of those qualities, less sodium and low acidity, are appealing, but here's what convinced me that this product should no longer be on my pantry shelf: when I looked up the substitution ratio, I discovered, to my dismay, that 3/4 cup plain rice vinegar plus 1/4 cup sugar plus 2 teaspoons of salt was the suggested proportion.

That's an awful lot of sugar and salt, isn't it? And for the "lite" product, that would mean only 1 teaspoon of salt, but still too much sugar. From now on, I'll stick with plain rice vinegar, which I can adulterate with sugar and salt to my own taste.

As I poke around in my pantry, learning more about each of the items I keep in the fridge, freezer, cupboards and spice rack, occasionally I run across something I've always had on hand, but never knew enough about. And what I learn makes me reconsider the item's value to my cooking. Seasoned rice vinegar is one of those items, so this bottle will be my last.

ASIAN SLAW
A great side dish to anything slathered with a sweet-hot barbecue sauce. Serves 6-8.

1/2 head green cabbage, shredded
1/2 head red cabbage, shredded
1 carrot, shredded
1/2 cup shredded daikon radish
2 tsp mint or basil leaves, torn or julienned
4 tsp seasoned rice vinegar
1 tsp dry mustard
1 tsp ground ginger
2 Tbsp vegetable oil
1 Tbsp sesame oil
2 tsp reduced-sodium soy sauce
1 tsp black sesame seeds
To your taste: salt, black pepper, sugar, honey

In a large bowl, place cabbages, carrot, daikon and mint or basil leaves (do not mix, yet). In a smaller bowl, whisk together seasoned rice vinegar, mustard, ginger, vegetable oil, sesame oil, and soy sauce. Taste, and adjust to your taste with salt, black pepper, sugar or honey. Pour dressing over the vegetables, and toss well to combine. Place in a serving bowl, and refrigerate for 1 hour, to allow the flavors to combine. Sprinkle sesame seeds on top, and serve.

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Celery seed (Recipe: Refrigerator zucchini pickles)
Cider vinegar (Recipe: Tomato nectarine chutney)
Japanese rice vinegar (Recipe: Carrot beet salad)
Black vinegar (Recipe: Ken Hom's cold aubergine salad)

Chutney, curried pasta salad

If I say "hot and spicy chutney" and your hips -- not your lips -- start to twitch, you've come to the right place.

After all, would the Pantry be perfect without music that raises your heartbeat and turns your cooking time into a dance party?

I think not.

Chutney, the lively music indigenous to the southern Caribbean (particularly Trinidad and Tobago, with its large population of Indian heritage), tosses together soca, classical Indian, reggae and calypso rhythms with lyrics sung in English and Hindi -- an exciting blend that makes it almost impossible to stand still when you hear it.

Chutney, a lively relish served with almost every Indian meal, tosses together many ingredients to create an exciting condiment that makes it almost impossible to sit still without clapping your hands in delight.

Much like salsa (which is also both a condiment and dance music), chutney brings together fruits, vegetables, heat from peppers, sugar, spice and, often, astringency. Chutney can be fresh, in which case it often does not contain vinegar or lime, or it can be cooked and preserved, in a style more popular with American and European palates. The base of chutney might be fruit (apples, tomato, tamarind, bananas, peaches), or coconut, or onions, or herbs (coriander and mint are common), or nuts. From the pear trees in front of my house, we harvest each autumn and make batches of pear-and-ginger chutney for Thanksgiving (we make cranberry chutney for the holidays, too). Almost any flavor of chutney would work well in these delicious cheese puffs or breakfast toast.

In the US and Britain, the most popular chutney is still Major Grey, a cooked relish made from mangoes and named for a mythical 18th Century British officer who may, or may not, have loved curries and may, or may not, have created this relish to last through the long journeys between far-flung outposts of the empire.

CURRIED SHRIMP AND PASTA SALAD
One of the most frequently used books in my library is a little paperback volume published in 1990, Condiments! Chutneys, Relishes & Table Sauces, by Jay Solomon, who owned a restaurant in Ithaca, New York. I love recipes that incorporate chutney into the sauce, though it's great slathered on sandwiches, too. I've adapted this recipe slightly. It's a perfect picnic dish, which makes it perfect for autumn hiking, too. Serves 4-6.

8 oz dry rotini or cavatappi
6 broccoli florets
20-24 medium-size shrimp (31-40 size), deveined and cooked
2 apples, diced (do not peel)
1/2 cup raisins
1/2 small red onion, minced
1 cup fresh shredded coconut
1/2 cup chutney (mango, nectarine, pineapple, cranberry, tomato -- whatever flavor you have on hand)
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup mayonnaise or plain yogurt
1-1/2 Tbsp curry powder
1/2 Tbsp ground cumin
1/2 tsp Tabasco or other hot sauce
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp turmeric
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/8 tsp cayenne pepper

Bring a large pot of water to a boil, add the pasta, and boil until al dente, about 8-10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Drain and rinse under cool water.

Blanch the broccoli in boiling water to cover for 3-4 minutes. Drain and cool under cold running water.

In a large mixing bowl, combine the pasta and broccoli with remaining ingredients and mix thoroughly. Wrap tightly and chill for at least 2 hours before serving, to allow the flavors to combine. Serve at room temperature.

Also in The Perfect Pantry:
Orzo, dittalini, annelini (Recipe: Curried orzo chicken salad)
Rice vermicelli (Recipe: Bun gao)
Miracle Whip (Recipe: Wild rice salad)
Curry powder (Recipe: Curried squash, apple and pear soup)

Miracle Whip, miraculous "salad"

While working on a new recipe index, I've been revisiting some posts from the early days of The Perfect Pantry. Here's one of my favorites -- a true confession! Welcome to Oldies Week, Day Two.

Strangers are about to learn a dirty little secret my family has known for years.

I eat Miracle Whip (gasp!).

In fact, I like it better than real mayonnaise (gasp!).

My favorite thing is to smoosh up Season sardines, mix in some Miracle Whip, and scoop it up on wheat crackers (gasp, gasp!). I learned this from my dad. My cousin Martin used to ship the sardines to me from Maryland (no other brand will do, just like no other mayo will do), because until recently I couldn't find them here. Finding the Miracle Whip was never a problem.

Invented at Max Crosset's Cafe in Salem, Illinois, Miracle Whip was originally called Max Crossett's X-tra Fine Salad Dressing. Crosset sold his formula to Kraft Foods in 1931 for $300.

A patented "emulsifying machine" helped produce a uniform blend of existing mayonnaise products and less expensive salad dressing. The machine, informally called "Miracle Whip" by inventor Charles Chapman, ensured that pre-measured ingredients could continuously enter the appliance and become thoroughly whipped and blended.

Kraft introduced its new product at the Chicago World's Fair in 1933, with the tagline "Salad Miracles with Miracle Whip Salad Dressing." It was an instant success.

While Miracle Whip is not an all-natural product, the list of ingredients contains nothing I can't identify: water, soybean oil, vinegar, high fructose corn syrup, sugar, modified food starch, egg yolks, salt, mustard flour, artificial color, potassium sorbate as a preservative, spice, paprika, natural flavor, dried garlic. Doesn't sound too bad, does it? And from a nutrition standpoint, it's actually a lower-fat alternative to mayonnaise, with no trans fat and only 1 gram of carbs per tablespoon.

In junior high school, my friends and I used Miracle Whip as a hair conditioner, and for facials (gaspgaspgasp!).

I grew up with Miracle Whip, and I guess I'll never outgrow it.

WILD RICE SALAD
This isn't really a salad, and it's not made with real wild rice. It was a favorite with our kids when they were young, and now our grandsons love it, too. A great way to get children to eat some vegetables. Use instant rice and a rotisserie chicken, and this meal comes together in less than 10 minutes. Serves 4.

1 box Uncle Ben's Instant Long Grain & Wild Rice, prepared according to package directions
2 Kirby cucumbers, or 1/2 of a long seedless cuke, diced
2 medium tomatoes, diced
2 stalks celery, diced
1 large green pepper, diced
1/2 lb roasted chicken breast, skin removed, diced (a rotisserie chicken from the market works well, or use leftovers)
1/4 cup Miracle Whip (or mayonnaise)
2 tsp Dijon mustard
Black pepper, to taste

Combine first six ingredients in a large bowl. In a smaller bowl, mix Miracle Whip and mustard. Add to the rice mixture, and season with black pepper to taste. Serve warm or at room temperature.

ALSO IN THE PERFECT PANTRY:
Horseradish sauce (Recipe: Horseradish dip)
Mayonnaise (Recipe: Caesar dip)
Orzo, dittalini, annelini (Recipe: Curried orzo chicken salad)

Cannellini beans

Could there be a more "foods of the world" can in my pantry?

In Italian: cannellini beans. In Spanish, alubias.

Nowhere does it say white kidney beans, and yet I bought this at the market in my small town, which really is more of a white kidney bean kind of place.

Are canned beans just a convenience, a lesser substitute for dry beans? Yes, and no. Of course they are a convenience; when I've forgotten to pre-soak my dry beans, or just don't have enough time to cook, canned beans are right there in the pantry, ready for action. Mostly, though, I think of canned beans as an entirely different food product. In dishes that depend on the texture of the beans, I start with dry beans, soak them overnight, and cook them until just soft, but if I'm making a dish in which the beans will be smashed -- a dip, or soup, or salad, or bruschetta -- I prefer to start with canned beans.

Cannellini, so popular in Tuscany that the Tuscan people have been nicknamed mangiafagiole, or "beaneaters", originally were cultivated in Argentina, and now are grown in Greece, France and central Italy. During the 16th Century, due to Catherine de Medici's attempts to "refine" Italian cuisine, beans were seldom eaten except by the peasant class. However, because of their nutritious (high in fiber, iron, magnesium and folate) and economical benefits, beans slowly returned to favor in Italian cooking, and their popularity spread throughout the northern Mediterranean cuisines.

The mild-flavored cannellini bean, shaped like (and closely related to) a kidney bean, can be used interchangeably with Great Northern or navy beans in most recipes. You'll want to drain and rinse the beans, which will "refresh" them and remove any excess salt, though some recipes use a bit of the reserved liquid as a thickener. Canned beans are fully cooked, so should be added to most dishes close to the end of the cooking time.

I always have cannellini in the cupboard, for a quick pasta supper, an elegant white bean stew, a hearty bowl of baked beans, a flavorful dip for pita triangles or crudites, or a Big Fat Greek Salad.

NO-COOK SUMMER ANTIPASTO
Antipasto isn't an exact science; the more people you have, the more food you pile on the platter. Use your imagination and your painter's eye; combine colors and textures, and have plenty of good crusty bread on hand. Add meat and cheese, if you wish. This recipe -- more a method than a recipe -- is a pantry lover's dream. Serves 8-10.

Arrange on a platter, any way you wish, in a design or scattered as the base of the antipasto:

1 cup mesclun salad mix, or romaine lettuce
1-2 blood oranges or other seedless oranges, peeled and sliced crosswise
1 large red (sweet) pepper, cut into 1-inch chunks
1 large green pepper, cut into 1-inch chunks
2 large plum tomatoes (or other tomatoes, in season), cut into large chunks
1 large cucumber or English cuke, peeled, cut lengthwise,
    then into half-rounds
3-4 radishes, cut into chunks
2 stalks celery, cut into 1-inch pieces1 sweet white onion, sliced into half-rounds
1 fennel bulb (anise), sliced thin (save the leafy tops for garnish)

Make piles here and there of:

1 16-oz can black pitted olives (large or colossal)
6-oz jar marinated artichoke hearts, drained and quartered
1 3-3/8 oz jar green Spanish olives with red pimientos
1 8-1/4 oz can whole beets
1 3-oz can Italian tuna in oil
1 small can cannellini beans, drained

Make vinaigrette by placing in a jar with a tight-fitting lid:

1/4 cup vinegar (red wine or balsamic)
1/4 tsp kosher salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
1/2 cup extra-virgin olive oil

Shake the dressing until well-mixed, and pour over the antipasto.

ALSO IN THE PERFECT PANTRY:
Dry beans (Recipe: Everything-in-the-pantry bean soup)

Mixed grains

When I moved from Boston's South End to a rural part of Rhode Island, I knew I would miss certain things.

Art museums within walking distance of my house.

Bookstores within walking distance of my house.

Great restaurants within walking distance of my house.

Chinese food that could be delivered to my house, on the days I didn't feel like walking anywhere.

What I miss most of all, though, are the ethnic groceries, especially the easy-to-walk-to Asian markets that carry everything from live lobster that you fish out of the tank, to funerary items and clay pots, to hundred-year eggs and baby bok choy.

While restocking The Perfect Pantry a couple of months ago, my friend Candy and I discovered this product in our favorite Asian market, and now that I've found it, I don't ever want to let it go: mixed grains, it's labeled in English (Is that a literal translation of the Korean words on the package, or does it have a more exotic name? Help!).

An exuberant marriage of barley, millet, sweet brown rice, brown rice, job’s tear, red bean, black bean, peeled mung bean, black sweet rice, corn, and green peas, this grain combo, sold under the Assi brand, comes in three- and five-pound bags. Jessica and I found the smaller size in a lovely little Korean market near her Providence office; Candy bought the large size, which was great for experimenting with new recipes. It looks as beautiful cooked as it does in the bag, and contains enough possible pairings to make a complete protein ten times over.

Have you seen this product in your local market? Have you used it? Do you have a recipe to share?

MIXED GRAIN SALAD
For a party celebrating the publication of our son-in-law's book, Candy created this beautiful salad. In taste and appearance, it's a show-stopper! If you can't find this brand of mixed grains at your local Asian grocery, use any combination of dried beans, peas, rice and corn. Serves 12 or more as part of a buffet.

2 cups Assi brand mixed grains (or combination of your choice)
1/2 tsp kosher salt
1/2 tsp sesame oil
2 Tbsp peanut oil or hot chili oil

In a large bowl, place the grains, and cover by 2 inches with cold water. Soak overnight or at least 8 hours.

In a large sauce pan or Dutch oven over medium heat, add salt, sesame oil, peanut oil or hot chili oil. Then add grains, and toss with the oil to coat. Cook until just slightly browned. Add 4 cups boiling water, cover with aluminum foil and a tight-fitting lid, and reduce heat to simmer. Cook the grains for 1-1/2 to 2 hours, or until tender (stir occasionally to keep grains from sticking, and add a few Tbsp of water if necessary). When the grains are fully cooked, remove from heat and set aside to cool.

For the dressing, combine:
1/2 cup orange juice
2 tsp honey
2 Tbsp lime juice (or lemon juice)
1/4 cup peanut oil
1/2 tsp kosher salt, or less to taste
1/2 tsp crushed black pepper, or less to taste
1/2 cup fresh chopped flat leaf parsley or cilantro

Prepare:
1 red onion, sliced thin, then add to dressing
2 ribs celery, sliced thin
Cucumber, cut into chunks
1 large red bell pepper, cut into chunks
1-1/2 cups dried fruit: cherries, apricots, dates, or figs (or a combination)
3/4 cup fresh toasted almonds, chopped coarsely

Gently toss vegetables, dried fruit and almonds with cooled grains and the dressing.

Add:

1-1/2 to 2 cups fresh seasonal fruit, such as mango, peaches, cherries, chopped (Candy likes to combine dried fruits with the same fresh fruit -- dried and fresh apricots, etc.)

To serve:
Mound the salad on a large platter, topped with:

1/4 cup fresh toasted almonds, chopped coarsely
1 cup fresh crumbled French feta cheese

Japanese rice 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 2.

In a blind taste test, would you be able to tell the difference between Japanese rice vinegar and rice wine vinegar?

Maybe.

Would you know which is which?

Maybe not.

Does it matter?

Not so much.

In fact, they are virtually the same product, as both are made from rice and not from wine. Both are pale in color, slightly sweet, moderately acidic, and mild in flavor. And in most recipes they are interchangeable.

Kind of like ketchup and tomato ketchup, if you catch my meaning.

Rice vinegar is made from distilled fermented white rice, slowly brewed over a period of one month. The Marukan and Mitsukan brands are excellent, and they're easy to find in supermarkets and Asian groceries. When a recipe calls for rice vinegar, generally it means this Japanese rice (a.k.a. rice wine) vinegar. There are Korean rice vinegars (much stronger), and Chinese rice vinegars (red and chinkiang), and of course there's shao hsing wine, which is not vinegar but is made from rice.

If you don't have rice vinegar, a.k.a. rice wine vinegar, you can substitute cider vinegar or white wine vinegar in most recipes, as in these dipping sauces, marinades, stir fries and salads. What you should not substitute, unless a recipe calls for it, is seasoned rice vinegar -- which is rice vinegar pumped up with sake, sugar and salt -- or mirin, which is sweetened rice wine for cooking.

Confusing, isn't it?

CARROT-BEET SALAD
Refreshing for summer and so yin-yang on the plate, this salad serves 6.

1/4 cup minced shallot
2 Tbsp minced peeled fresh ginger
1 garlic clove, minced
1/4 cup rice vinegar
1 Tbsp soy sauce
1/2 tsp toasted sesame oil
Hot sauce, to taste
1/2 cup olive oil
4 cups finely shredded carrots
4 cups finely shredded peeled raw beets (approximately 3/4 lb)
Baby spinach leaves, for garnish

In a blender or food processor, puree first seven ingredients. With motor running, add olive oil in a stream and blend until smooth. In separate bowls, toss carrots with half of the dressing, and toss beets with remaining half. Divide carrot salad and beet salad among 6 plates, and garnish each plate with spinach leaves.

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

Maple syrup

In the 31 years that Ted and I have shared a life and a home, I have put up with a lot.

Fanatic devotion to the Montreal Canadiens, who've won the Stanley Cup six times and gone to the playoffs in all but five of the remaining years. Celebration of Thanksgiving in October. The occasional "Canada" or maple-leaf-emblazoned t-shirt wandering around the house. The appending of "eh?" to ends of sentences at the most unlikely times, eh?

But the worst, the absolute worst, thing about living with a Canadian is this:

Maple syrup on matzoh brei.

Talk about a clash of cultures. More than three decades, and I still shudder every time he pours syrup on my salt-sprinkled egg-and-matzoh masterpiece.

Of course I am kidding, but not about the fact that only in the home of a Canadian would maple syrup be considered a pantry must-have. Maple syrup comes from the sap of the sugar, black or red maple tree. The trees are tapped and a small funnel is inserted; the sap runs out the funnel into a bucket which hangs on the tree. You can see tapped trees, with their buckets appended, all throughout New England in early spring. A local farmer even taps the trees in our village's historic cemetery.

Initially, the sap is clear and almost tasteless; it needs to be boiled, often inside a specially-built sugaring house, to evaporate the water, leaving behind a viscous liquid, amber in color, with a sugar content of 60 percent. It takes approximately 40 gallons of sap to make one gallon of maple syrup.

The USDA grades maple syrup into four categories:

• Grade A Light Amber, very light in color, mild, delicate maple flavor; usually made earlier in the season when the weather is colder. Best for making maple candy and maple cream.
• Grade A Medium Amber, a bit darker, more maple flavor. The most popular grade of table syrup, usually made after the sugaring season begins to warm, about mid-season.
• Grade A Dark Amber, very dark, with a stronger maple flavor; usually made later in the season as the days get longer and warmer.
• Grade B, sometimes called cooking syrup, made late in the season, very dark, with a very strong maple and caramel flavor; often used for cooking and baking.

Maple syrup is a good source of manganese and zinc. Unopened, it can sit on the cupboard shelf; once you open it, store the syrup in the refrigerator.

Try maple syrup in dishes sweet and savory, whether ice cream or muffins, baked squash or glazed carrots, roast chicken or mango-ginger tofu. Pancakes? Absolutely.

But please, never-not-ever on matzoh brei.

MAPLE GLAZED SALMON SALAD
A favorite in our Canadian-American household, this recipe works well with honey in place of maple syrup, and mango juice instead of orange juice. Mix and match, according to what's in your pantry. Serves 4.

5 oz baby romaine lettuce leaves
1/2 cup dried cranberries or dried cherries
1/4 English seedless cucumber, sliced thin
4 oz white or cremini mushrooms, stems trimmed, sliced thin
1 lb salmon filet, boned and skin removed
Kosher salt and fresh ground black pepper
2 tsp olive oil
1/3 cup orange juice
2 tsp low-sodium soy sauce
2 tsp maple syrup
Balsamic vinegar and extra-virgin olive oil (optional)

In a large bowl, combine lettuce, cranberries, cucumber and mushrooms, and set aside.

Cut salmon into two-inch chunks, and season with salt and pepper. Heat 2 tsp oil in a deep saute pan over low heat, and add the salmon. Stir 2-3 minutes, to "seize" the outside of the fish. Add orange juice, soy and maple syrup, and cook, basting the fish with the liquid, for 5 minutes, until the fish is just cooked but not overdone. Remove fish from the pan and add it to the salad bowl. If necessary, boil down the pan juices to desired consistency, and pour over the salad. If you wish, or if you need more dressing for the salad, add a tablespoon or two of good balsamic vinegar and extra-virgin olive oil, and toss to combine.

Orzo, ditalini, annelini

Nothing says "pantry" like dried pasta, and the shelves of The Perfect Pantry hold every imaginable shape and size. Welcome to Italian Pasta Week, Day Three, Short and Stubby.

When I was growing up, in a non-Italian household in a non-Italian neighborhood, there was macaroni and cheese, and lasagna (which seemed to be mac-and-cheese made with bigger noodles, piled up in a pan), and there was spaghetti with meatballs and sauce made from a packet of Spatini.

It wasn't until the 1980s that the term pasta became ubiquitous, and when it did, we tossed aside the beautiful, lyrical names of the more than 500 distinctive shapes of Italian semolina noodles. It was all pasta, all the time.

Lest we forget, even the tiniest Short and Stubby pastas have lovely, poetic names: ditalini (little thimbles), annelini (little rings), acini de pepe (little beads), stelline (little stars). Most often, these very small pastas are used in soup, sometimes in combination with beans or vegetables. Orzo, shaped like grains of rice, is the exception; it's popular for cold salads and stuffings.

To end Italian Pasta Week, here are some fun facts about pasta:

• World Pasta Day is October 25.
• The first American pasta factory was opened in Brooklyn, New York, in 1848, by a Frenchman named Antoine Zerega, who apparently kept a horse in his basement to power the pasta machine!
• Spaghetti is by far the most popular pasta dish, followed by lasagna and mac-and-cheese.
• More than 75% of Americans say they eat pasta at least once a week.
• The National Pasta Museum, located in Rome near the Trevi Fountain, has an entire room devoted to pasta in art.
• The World Directory of Pasta Shapes and Names tells you where to buy the dies to cut each shape, and even suggests sauce pairings.

You will remind me, and rightly so, that we haven't touched on whole wheat pastas (we will; I've got plenty in the cupboard), stuffed pastas like ravioli and tortellini, or pastas — I mean noodles — made with grains other than semolina. I've showed you some of my stash of rice noodles here, here and here, and soba, lo mein, wonton skins and egg noodles wait patiently in the pantry for their few minutes of fame.

For now, dear readers, mangia! Eat!

CURRIED ORZO CHICKEN SALAD
Inspired by a recipe in Pasta: The Little Guides, this lovely salad with an Indian flair makes use of leftover cooked chicken or shrimp. A rotisserie chicken from the market would work well here. Serves 4-6.

8 oz orzo or other short and stubby pasta, cooked according to package directions, drained, rinsed under cold water and drained again
1 cup cooked chicken (or shrimp, or tofu)
1/2 cup dried apricots, chopped
1/4 cup celery, chopped
1/2 green pepper, chopped
2 scallions, thinly sliced
1/3 cup mayonnaise or Miracle Whip
1/3 cup plain nonfat yogurt
2 Tbsp chutney
1/2 tsp curry powder, mild or hot
1/3 cup roasted, lightly salted peanuts

Placed cooked pasta, chicken, apricots, celery, green pepper and scallions in a large bowl. In a smaller bowl, combine mayonnaise, yogurt, chutney and curry powder, and mix well. Add the dressing to the pasta bowl, and stir to combine. Place in a serving bowl, and top with peanuts.

Bulgur

You're looking at the photo. I know what you're thinking.

Oh, no, here comes the tabbouleh.

If you're a cook of a certain age, you discovered tabbouleh in the Sixties, when "cream" was a rock band and a "big hunk" was a candy bar.

It would have been easy enough to write about tabbouleh, the best-use-of-parsley-as-a-vegetable staple of Middle Eastern cooking, because I first added bulgur to my pantry years ago precisely so I could prepare it for a summer buffet. But then I wouldn't have time to tell you about kibbe and pilaf, and bulgur salads with fruit or chickpeas or nuts.

Bulgur is whole wheat kernels that have been steamed or boiled, dried, and crushed. Also called bulghur, or burghul (in Arabic), it has a tender, chewy texture and comes in coarse, medium and fine grinds. According to author Claudia Roden, in the days before mechanization, bulgur was made collectively; the men harvested the wheat, the women separated the wheat from the chaff. The wheat is boiled for hours in huge pots until it splits, and then it's dried in the sun, spread out on large sheets laid on rooftops or in fields. When dry, the grain goes to a stone mill.

Often, bulgur is soaked prior to cooking, but it's very forgiving. If you forget to presoak, simply pour boiling water over the bulgur and let it stand in a bowl for a few minutes while you are prepping the remaining ingredients for your recipe. One cup of dry yields three cups of cooked, no matter which way you fix it.

BURGHUL BI JIBN WAL BATINJAN (BULGUR WITH CHEESE AND EGGPLANTS)
From The New Book of Middle Eastern Food, by Claudia Roden, this Syrian recipe combines bulgur with salty cheese and smooth eggplant. If you cannot find halloumi, substitute feta or mozzarella. Serves 4-6, as a vegetarian main dish or a side dish with grilled chicken and a spinach salad.

1 eggplant (approx. 3/4 lb) cut into 1-inch cubes
Kosher salt
1-1/2 large onions, diced
Vegetable oil
2 cups coarse-ground bulgur, washed in cold water and drained
3-1/4 cups boiling water or chicken stock
Black pepper
7-9 oz halloumi or feta cheese, cubed

Sprinkle the eggplant generously with salt and leave in a colander for 30 minutes. Rinse, and dry with paper towels.

Fry the onions in 2 Tbsp oil until golden. Add the bulgur and stir. Pour in the boiling water or stock, season with salt and pepper, and stir well. Cover and cook on very low heat for 15 minutes, or until the water as habeen absorbed and the bulgur is tender.

Fry the eggplant briefly in hot oil, turning the cubes so that they are lightly colored all over. Lift out, and drain on paper towels.

Stir 4 Tbsp oil into the bulgur. Add the cheese and eggplant, and gently fold together. Heat through with the lid on until the cheese is soft. Serve very hot.

Grandanina couscous

When I first moved to Rhode Island, potluck ruled. It seemed like every weekend was another potluck occasion, and the pressure to come up with new dishes was intense (and entirely self-inflicted).

In our first full summer here, Ted and I offered to host a party for our local arts organization. We figured it would be a good way to meet people, so we sent out invitations and I started cooking for a huge buffet dinner that we planned to serve outside under the pear trees. The invitation asked everyone to bring a beverage to share — and their favorite bug spray. No potluck. Well, this caused a stir in our little community! No potluck? Indeed!

A few years later I learned how to turn grandanina couscous into a perfect potluck dish, and now it's always in my pantry.

Grandanina is a medium-size coarse ground couscous with a nutty flavor, made of durum wheat. Couscous often is called pasta, as it's made from the same ingredients, and in this dish you can substitute orzo, a small torpedo-shaped pasta, or Israeli couscous, which is a slightly larger grain, the size of tapioca pearls. I buy grandanina couscous at The Gourmet Outlet in New Bedford (Massachusetts), the retail arm of Sid Wainer & Son, wholesale purveyor of fine foods to restaurants, airlines, hotels and corporations all over the US.

Couscous originated in North Africa, and is prevalent throughout the cooking of Mediterranean cultures, often as a base for stews. So it's particularly appropriate that this recipe uses both apricots and orange, which are also cultivated throughout the hot climates of North Africa. I've brought this dish to many a potluck, but I also use grandanina as a thickener in soups, a base for stews, and in hearty salads.

VEGETARIAN COUSCOUS WITH DRIED FRUIT
This colorful and healthy recipe from chef John Verrier at Sid Wainer & Son serves 6 as an accompaniment to grilled chicken, fish or pork. One year for Thanksgiving, I bought a boneless turkey breast and stuffed it with this couscous, then glazed the outside of the turkey with pomegranate molasses. It looked like a giant football, but it tasted amazing.

2 cups Grandanina pasta or Israeli couscous
2 tsp extra virgin olive oil
1 Tbsp minced garlic
1/2 red onion, cut in half and sliced very thin
1 green pepper, diced
1/2 cup each dried apricots and dried cranberries, diced
8 oz orange juice

In a medium stock pot, cook couscous in water according to package directions. Drain and set aside.

While the couscous is cooking, heat the olive oil in a small frying pan. Saute the garlic, red onion and green pepper until the onions are soft, about 7 minutes. Season with salt and pepper. Put in a serving bowl. Add dried fruit. Add the cooked, drained couscous. Pour in the orange juice, and keep stirring until thoroughly mixed and the liquid is completely absorbed. Serve warm or room temperature.