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You have to ask: Do you like black licorice? The answer will indicate whether you’re among friends before breaking out the black vines. It’s the dark secret of the pantry.
Black-licorice-lovers quickly learn that they are in the minority. Never give the candy as a gift, and certainly don’t hand it out at Halloween. But, with its complex aniselike flavor and subtle cool-and-hot sensations, black licorice is not just appreciated by Northern Europeans and old people.
“Licorice has become very hot!” says Eilene Cohen of Economy Candy, a 70-year-old candy emporium in New York City’s Lower East Side. Due to higher demand, the store has added many new brands over the past two years, including 10 to 12 varieties of Dutch licorice just in the past two months. “Before, all we had was bites and shoelaces,” Cohen says. Susan Fussell, senior director of communications at the National Confectioners Association, says that licorice sales are up. Though people are buying more candy in general (an increase of 2.9 percent in the past year), Fussell points out that “sales of licorice (which does include red licorice) are up 3.7 percent.”
Today’s taste in candy runs toward the sweet and chocolaty or sweet and fruity—like red licorice, which is not licorice at all but an artificially flavored and highly sweetened Doppelgänger, imitating the original’s shape but not its flavor. Black licorice is flavored with extract of licorice root, used as a remedy for sore throat and cough in ancient Rome, Egypt, and China. The root has a medicinal, herbal flavor and contains a compound called glycyrrhizin that gives it a bit of natural sweetness.
To make licorice candy, the root’s extract is blended with salt or a sweetener (sugar, molasses, or honey) to soften its flavor. Throughout Northern Europe, where licorice candy was invented, the preferred style is very dense and salty, more lozengelike than candy. Most often the saltiness comes from ammonium chloride or salmiak, a common ingredient in cough medicine, which lends a slightly ammonialike flavor to the traditional styles. Today’s salty varieties range greatly, from chewy candies with only a hint of salt such as Danish Heksehyl Zoet, to dense, mouth-puckering salt bombs like the infamous Dubbel Zout from Holland (a style not favored much by American palates; see our notes on tasting).
The British town of Pontefract claims to be the birthplace of the sweeter style. In 1760 a pharmacist, trying to make the cough medicine produced from licorice root more palatable, added sugar. Sweetener became a common addition in all licorice-producing countries. This variety, known as the Pontefract Cake, is still available today and was a favorite among the CHOW staff. The town hosts the Pontefract Liquorice Festival every summer.
Elizabeth Erlandson of Licorice International in Lincoln, Nebraska, says that of the 3,000 customers LI sells to each month, most are nostalgia seekers: first- or second-generation immigrants or people looking for the candy of their childhoods. Steve Almond, author of Candyfreak, points out that the candy industry has no vested interest in marketing a confection like black licorice that doesn’t appeal to kids. But adults, with a more sophisticated palate, often find they like licorice once they’ve tried it (or tried it again).
Many of Erlandson’s customers are young people searching for a gift for a licorice-loving parent, but “once they come into the store and start tasting, they discover that they like it too.” They usually end up buying for themselves and become regular customers. The store has recently added 20 new brands to its stock, bringing the grand total of licorice products to 160, up from 118 in 2004.
Caitlin Williams had a similar experience planning Miette Confiserie, her candy shop in San Francisco’s Hayes Valley. Before opening, she began asking acquaintances which items to stock. She found that there was an overwhelming demand for black licorice. “It’s funny,” she says, “everyone seemed to be a black licorice fan but thought that they’re the only one, like it’s their thing. But in fact black licorice had a huge following.” As a result, nearly an entire wall of her shop sports an international selection of the stuff, ranging from very soft and chewy to quite tacky and dense, and extremely salty to toothache-inducing sweet.
Licorice has even reached the highest levels of fine dining, paired with squab, watermelon, and foie gras at Alinea in Chicago, as well as appearing on the pastry menus at both Per Se and wd-50 in New York City. “I love it because besides being flavor, it’s a sensation,” says Pastry Chef Alex Stupak of wd-50, who grates a concentrated form of licorice paste over avocado purée in his dessert called Soft Chocolate, Avocado, Licorice, Lime. Sébastien Rouxel, pastry chef at Per Se, mixes extract into a batter that is baked, then ground, to create a powder for Guava Sorbet with Crème de Yaourt Frais, Black Licorice Dust, and Pomegranate Nuage.
Both pastry chefs have been using black licorice for a while, and though they agree that many people don’t like licorice on its own, they are confident that using it in desserts is not taboo. Stupak even goes so far as to include licorice in the only chocolate dessert on his menu. He calls it a “daring move” for what has long been considered a “mostly maligned flavor.” Since many people only order “whatever’s chocolate” from a menu, he says, doing this forces those who generally don’t like licorice to eat it. What do they say afterward? Most say “it’s perfect.”
My mom's parents are Dutch immigrants to the United States, and passed on the taste for the really salty black licorice (or Dropje, as they called it) to their children. As we were growing up, I'm sure much amusement was derived by their offering $5 to whichever of us kids could manage to eat and swallow an entire Dubbel Zout. I think I managed it once.
I love licorice, but be careful with it, especially if you have high blood pressure. See here, at Special Precautions and Adverse Effects, near the bottom of this page:
http://www.peoplespharmacy.com/archiv...
I discovered the salty black licorice sensation (and its companion liquer; I forget its name) while in Finland. I found the candy oddly pleasing and brought back a jar of it to the office, where it lived out its (almost-untouched) days tied as the weight on the chain to the restroom key.
As for sweet black licorice, I can't stomach the vines (it's a texture thing) but adore black jelly beans.
They sell the salty black licorice at the food store in Ikea. We bought it once before, and I just cannot stomach the ammonia smell--it wafts from your throat up your nose while you are chewing. It doesn't strike me as salty in the traditional, sodium-salty sense, but more like a chemical salty taste. I didn't like it.
My first BF was a Danish exchange student. He was so excited to finally get a package of goodies from home, including the salty licorice he adored. When he handed me a piece, I popped it in my mouth, made that face a baby makes right before it starts wailing, and promptly ejected the offending disc from my now very sad tongue into my boyfriend's receptive mouth. My hero.
I really don't like this kind of licorice. I'm sure it's a taste I could get used to, but I run more toward Bassett's All-sorts. And I'm not crazy about Twizzlers either, I think they're too sugary.
For kelkelkelw... Some Finns are mad for salmiakki, which is both a candy and liqueur flavoured with salty liquorice. That was probably it. Chacun son gout, whatever your goo is, I guess.
Thanks for the interesting article. I crave and eat all different qualities of black licorice regularly. I love the chewy hard type best. If you eat too much it makes you go to the bathroom and your poop turns black. ;-)
you guys left out all the Italian licorice - in the south they even sell the roots to chew on - look for brands such as Tabu, super salty grains in a tiny gorgeous tin - and Golia - which in its original form comes in chew sweet lozenges and also Bianca - covered in a minty shell - both yummy and refreshing!
I LOVE licorice, and I don't add the word "black" to that b/c to me the red stuff isn't licorice at all. I remember the first time I add it when I was 8 years' old, and it totally transported me. My friend from Australia brings me a treat called "Bullets," which is chocolate-covered licorice, and it is divine so I can relate to the pastry chef in the article adding a licorice taste to his chocolate dessert. Although I am a dark-chocolate person, in this case I prefer the milk-chocolate-covered Bullets. I once made licorice ice cream from a Fran Gage recipe, and it used licorice root tea bags so the color was a pale beige, and the flavor was subtle and haunting. I don't think most people would recognize what it was. What the article doesn't postulate on is the theory I have heard that liking black licorice is actually carried on a gene the way some people think cilantro is. And it makes sense if you consider that there are countries like Holland and Australia where most of the population, unlike here, adores the stuff. This would make it more than an acquired taste. Any thoughts?
I agree with deliciousnyc, you forgot to mention Italian licorice. Wild licorice root is abundant in Italy. I remember visiting as a kid and my cousin pulling up a root and chewing on it - I was fascinated it tasted so good. I always stock up when I go back. It keeps well in an airtight container although some prefer to have it dried out and more chewy. What about the Sherbert Fountains with the licorice stick - now that's yummy confection. I've read that sugar is most people's first addiction.
I went one of my fave San Francisco restaurants, Brick, the other night and guess what new item was gracing the dessert menu? Black Licorice Parfait (made with licorice root and anise oil). It was fantastic!
one of the few flavors i absolutely won't eat! my danish father always has this in the house (the kind dusted in salt and shaped like a fish is his favorite) ... gross!!!!
My favorite is the pipe-shaped licorice which, I think, comes from Sweden. Great texture, great flavor.
I am one of those people who was advised my my doc not to eat it due to hypertension... and since heart disease has killed every man on both sides of my family, I listened.
I used to go through about a pound a week at work. The nice thing about it is that it seems about 99% of the rest of the world's population seems to hate it so I NEVER had to worry about candy moochers from my desk.
I have searched high and low to find a suitable black licorice "substitute" made without the medicinal effects and have found nothing. I miss it like the dickens...
I love black licorice! So, good. Pretty popular in Finland.
We have a over guest from Finland this week and I asked her to bring lots of it, so she did. FoodWine is now a very happy puppy!
P.S. "hungry pangolin" said: "Some Finns are mad for salmiakki, which is both a candy and liqueur flavoured with salty liquorice."
"Salmiakki" is the candy -and the liqueur You mentioned is called:
"Salmiakki Koskenkorva",
which is Koskenkorva-spirit (slang= Kossu"), flavored with salmiakki flavor.
In my mind it is a dangerous drink, because it is hard booze, but tastes like candy.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Koskenko...
I love 'salmiakki' also, but never touch 'Salmiakki Kossu', yikes!
I love black licorice! So, good. Pretty popular in Finland.
SOrry, typo, meant to say: We have a guest over from ...
Messed it up again, did not notice that the first sentence from my original post was still there, arrgh!
Chowpeople: It would be helpful it there was an editing option on these threads, too.