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stories: The Ten

The New Kitchen Staples

Indispensable, required, delightful, and delicious. Get them.

By Steven Jenkins

Some things are so trendy that I’m embarrassed to use them. Others smack of “gourmet,” a characterization I spend every waking moment trying to avoid. I consider tamarind paste and pomegranate molasses to be this year’s poster children for the ACWMFASFF (the American Council of Well-Meaning Foodies Against Succumbing to Food Fads). Both have undeniable merit and significance, but they are also ubiquitous culprits in all those recipes across our land that are simply too busy. Past poster children include anything with sun-dried tomato in it, anything with the word pesto in it, infused oils, Laura Chenel’s frozen curd goat cheeses, argan oil, anything with the Silver Palate label on it, jarred bruschetta toppings, dipping oils, and everything Stonewall Kitchen makes.

These 10 things, however, are indispensable. Required. Delightful and delicious. Get them.

  1. Saba. Saba, the color of red wine with a slightly thicker texture, is also called vincotto, because it’s re-squeezed and cooked wine grape must (the leavings of grape pressings), most often from central Italian bulk winemakers. But it’s also found in the south and in Sicily. It evolved centuries ago, when most people were so poor that sugar was a chimera, and saba was used as a sweetener. But it’s not just sweet —it’s complex. It’s like a wine sauce made out of sorghum, if that makes any sense. I use saba as a pan deglazer: It’s heavenly in a deglazed sauce for scallops, for foie gras, for pork chops. A beautiful braising medium for beef in a dish like brasato di manzo, and for pork shoulder or pork tenderloin. Add it to vinaigrettes. Dee-lish with vodka and club soda.

  2. Sardines. There is no sardine on the planet that can compare to the vintage sardines of Brittany. I hesitate to mention them, as they are so rarely found here, but once you have tasted them, once you appreciate how sardines improve in the tin with time, you just can’t imagine how rewarding a few saltines, some slices of onion, and cold beer can be.

  3. Preserved lemons. Lemons become otherworldly when pickled, an entirely new fruit-cum-condiment that, when sliced and tucked under the skin of any kind of poultry, results in birds of paradise. The flavor and fragrance delivered by preserved lemons is not just lemony, but exotically lemony —you wonder how this dish could have come out of your very own kitchen. Mince it for couscous or rice or a vinaigrette; swirl it into pan leavings from a sauté of fish or scallops or prawns; fork-press it into a gremolata of parsley, garlic, and olive oil, and use it in our Moroccan Charmoula Dressing.

  4. Harissa. For the same reasons as preserved lemons. In Tunisia, harissa is a sacrament. Tunisians make their own harissa, from hot chiles grown in situ that are strung, garlanded, and festooned in nearly every house, then seeded and crushed and combined into a thick paste with sea salt and any combination of caraway, cumin, coriander, sometimes mint, and garlic and olive oil. North Africans would never dream of buying commercially made harissa, but there are several perfectly acceptable examples widely available here in specialty food shops, even supermarkets. I have a jar or tube of harissa on the table constantly in order to bombard my taste buds, to stun myself. Try it with baked potatoes, roasted onions, french fries, beef stew, short ribs.

  5. Goose fat or duck fat. To fry or sauté something in goose or duck fat is a revelation —chicken thighs, for instance. Goose and duck fat deliver that indescribable umami, that fifth perception of flavor that is usually referred to as “savory.” I cherish bacon fat as much as the next man, but bacon fat from the omnipresent coffee tin on the stove is for popcorn.

  6. Serious anchovies. Let’s get this straight, once and for all. If you don’t understand anchovies, you’ve got some seasoning to endure if you ever want to consider yourself committed to food. Serious anchovies are indispensable for stews, for vegetables (Mediterranean Braised Chard, anyone?), for soups, and for innumerable pasta dishes. Is there anything more satisfying—anything—than an aglio e olio sauce for pasta that features not just crushed or minced garlic and good olive oil, but also a couple of chopped fillets of anchovy and a dab of harissa? Forget about supermarket tinned anchovies. Forget about the anchovies that pizza parlors use. Serious anchovies taste like adult candy. The proof is to sit before a couple of olive oil–packed fillets from companies like Roque (Collioure, France), Ortiz (Pays Vasco, Spain), or Recca (Sciacca, Sicily). (It is a myth that serious foodies opt only for salted ‘chovies. They’re going to be irretrievably salty and bony and scaly, no matter how much you fuss with them!). A handful of marcona almonds. A glass of cold fino sherry. Crusty bread. The lights will go on for you.

  7. Membrillo. The eons-old “fruit cheese” of Catalonia and Valencia is quince paste. I cannot serve cheese and charcuterie without it. Unless the fruit at hand is so seasonal, so dripping with its own nectar, so perfectly ripe and maybe even trailing its own leaves, I say fruit is boring. Quince paste is so sweet that it makes your teeth hurt, but with grand cheeses it is divine; and as an accompaniment to rustic stuff like cheese, salami, ham, pâté, nuts and olives, and crusty bread, it is far more enticing and memorable than anything I can think of.

  8. Salted capers from Pantelleria. Brined capers are but cosmetic. No flavor. The salted capperi from the island off the southwestern coast of Sicily have been famous for centuries. It’s a cinch to wash away the sea saltiness. (Unlike the cinch it’s not to wash away the salt from salted anchovies.) I love to fry them in olive oil to add to various things. They work nicely in our take on remoulade. Capers are meant to boost flavors. Pantelleria capers are meant to have a life of their own.

  9. Pignoli (pine nuts). Toasted until brown, they are a welcome ingredient with rice and with cooked vegetables. Try them in our Linguine with ‘Squash Noodles,’ Pine Nuts, and Herbs.

  10. Dried porcini. A secret weapon to boost flavor without being superfluous. Perfectly paired with pancetta in our Fettuccine with Porcini and Pancetta Cream.

Published September 21, 2006

Comments

The use of the word "chimera" in this article is the best use of any word I've happened upon this week. Kudos. This list is also depressingly erudite. I thought I was hip as hell for using agave nectar to sweeten my sun tea. Turns out I was jus' a corn-fed novice...

SOAK the salted anchovies
I soak the oil packed guys too - the oil is gross

Pickling lemons, as it happens, is easy and fun -- the intense yellow halves are lovely sitting near a window while pickling. It takes about a month, but what could be much simpler than halving or blossoming (nearly-quartering from the blossom end) a dozen or so lemons or limes, smashing about two teaspoons of salt into each, packing them tightly into a jar, and adding enough lemon juice to submerge them for a month? A sterilized pebble works fine for keeping them submerged, or you can fill the jar nearly to the top and add a couple teaspoons of neutral oil (though this is flirting with botulism if you don't sterilize everything beforehand, it is traditional).

I have grown to like pickling because it teaches the virtues of patience, much like vinegar, wine, or braising.

Also -- I would suggest that anyone who would like to make their own harissa, schug, anchovies, sprats, or sardines could enjoy Oded Schwartz' _Preserving_. It is out of print, but many libraries seem to have a copy, and often this seems to lead to the borrower tracking down their own copy. Tremendously well photographed and written, it opened my eyes to the possibilities when you preserve your own selections, to your own tastes. Granted, I won't be making aceto balsamico tradizionale anytime soon, but at least now I have an appreciation for what masterfully constructed preserved foods bring to the table (beyond what I am able).

I have been looking for Harissa for months, but it is unavailable in my area (Wilkes-Barre/Scranton PA). Does anyone have a good mail order source for it? I would also like to try those anchovies if anyone has a mail order source for them.

> (Pays Vasco, Spain)

It should be País Vasco (Pays Basque in French).

In Italy we always soak the anchovies, whether packed in salt or oil, in milk.

Capperi di Pantelleria, packed in salt: rinse off the salt well in cold water (do not soak), then dry the capers in paper towels, place in a small jar, and top with olive oil. The capers will plump up, and look and taste great whenever you add them to your dishes.
The small capers are always the best.

And another tip: pine nuts go stale very very quickly - store them in the freezer.

I'll tell you what's irritating: when the food you've grown up with - my family is Moroccan - becomes trendy. Because you know, when will your own ethnicity become yesterday's news? God I loathe food trendoids and snobs. They talk so damn much I don't know how they ever get anything into their mouths to taste.

I agree 100% with you, piedsdesanges. As a child (about 40 years ago), my mother used to serve us beef short ribs, lamb shanks, chicken thighs, etc. because these items were inexpensive and we didn't have alot of money growing up. Now look what's on the menu.

Oui d'accord, pieds des anges. I've always eaten pesto, for example - made it at home - it is extremely healthy and a seasonal treat.

And I eat goat's cheese all the time - can't digest cow's milk. I first had sun-dried tomatoes in the far south of Italy (Calabria) - it was a way people in a hot, dry climate conserved them. This was in a village where people were absolutely untrendy.

Bruschetta toppings (?) and dipping oils are simply variations of people in the Mediterranean had on their bread. Butter was the luxury.

I know the same applies to huile d'argane and of course harissa - though the latter is a staple not only in the Maghreb but, in tubes and jars, in France and not only among foodies.

Fortunately, grain-fed chicken thighs and legs are still relatively cheap here in Montréal.

Who would have guessed that the VINOCOTTO that my grandfather made after making his table wine would wind up on a foodie website!
Does anyone know where to buy this? As kid we'd mop up Vino Cotto with Pasta Fritta or fried dough.

Cotto d'Uvo is available (and about a half to the third the price of ''saba'') from most of the Italian specialty stores where I live. Particularly in a 1:1 mix with balsamico, I find it more versatile than either alone.

Another...BAD...problem with food trends is that suddenly, the foods you ate from childhood because they were 'cheap' suddenly become outrageously priced. Think flank steak, for instance. When I was a child and young adult, it was one of the cheapest meats you could buy. NOW, it's more expensive than a fillet steak. Oxtails is another one...they, too, were dirt cheap, until about 5 years ago. Of course, all food prices are higher, but in relation to what they were, 'trendy' foods have FAR outpaced the rest. It's so sad.

What do you think?

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