January 05, 2007, Green thumbs and old salts, By Jeremy Goodwin

I know I am not a “normal” cook, but there are some similarities that should be obvious. The recipes and the techniques you read about in this column should be well within the capabilities of a basic home kitchen.

I am not suggesting catching the eggs before they hit the nest, like Martha Stewart, or the necessity of your understanding the chemistry of beaten egg whites and sugar as preparatory to making a meringue, like Alton Marshall. My litany is more along the lines of “keep it fresh and simple” and “use the best herbs and spices you can get.”

Living in San Miguel, I cannot think of a reason why everyone does not have at least a basic kitchen garden or even just a window or balcony box with some of the favorites available for picking. There are side benefits, too: butterflies coming to feed and lay eggs and the occasional hummingbird looking for the long flowers on a pineapple sage. The main reason, though, is the brightness of flavor from chopped oregano sprinkled on a tomato sauce just prior to serving, a chiffonade of fresh basil on ripe tomatoes with some crumbled chevre and a dash of balsamic vinegar, or a quick pesto of both herbs with black pepper and garlic hanging in a Greek extra-virgin olive oil with the viscosity of 90-weight motor oil.

Then there is the practical aspect of growing a few plants around the house; the soothing smell of English lavender on bed linens that have been stored with a sprig between the folds and the use of mountain sage to ease an upset stomach spring immediately to mind.

When it comes to seed spices, more often than not it is easier to buy them than grow them, unless you have some space for a decent crop and the necessary time and patience. However, there is no excuse for buying the powdered stuff in small jars, and even the whole-seed spices should be rotated out of your kitchen on a regular basis.

Cooking in other people’s houses is often an adventure—and not always a happy one. Asking for the paprika or cumin, I am often directed to an odorless lump of concrete lurking in a jar hidden behind the green tube of parmesan and the salt, both of which rival sugar in their inherent molecular stability and lack of appreciable smell and seem to have imparted those properties to the spice jars behind. All aromatics tend to fade with age, and very few spices retain their inherent worth for more than six months. Even those like cloves, pepper and nutmeg alter appreciably after a year. In the course of writing this I was reminded of one jar of allspice that has lurked among my overflowing lazy Susans since the mid-nineties.

Spreading throughout the US is a chain called Penzey’s, supposedly selling a remarkable selection of top-quality spices. They had better be top-quality at those prices. That they could not sell me whole fenugreek (methi) seed, as it was “too hard for the customer to grind,” just pushed me down the street to the Indian store. There, I got a pound of fresh seed for the same cost of 2 ounces of stale powder in the specialty store. If you think it might not be important, just compare the colour of freshly ground cumin to that of the pre-ground spice; it is dark and rich, just oozing flavor. Even better, buy some of the sticks of cinnamon in one of the local markets. It fooled me the first time I smelled it; it was more like nutmeg with the mace still attached than what I had assumed cinnamon was like from my friend’s donut shop. Now, that cinnamon goes into lots of soups and any pot roast, where it adds subtle complexity.

The holiday season is upon us, and I have made up batches of salt-free spice mixes from freshly ground seeds and some dried thyme, many going out to the culinarily challenged among my friends, along with some packets of seeds for planting and a few different peppers from my modest collection of pots.

The spice mixes, along with an aloe-based, culinary oil hand lotion, are part of the range of products I manufacture sporadically under the auspices of The Best Kept Secret.

Here is a little challenge with a small reward: Email me at the address below with a brief description (200 words or less) of your worst culinary disaster, and the authors of the top three submissions will receive a gift of spice mixes, hand lotion and my favorite coffee beans. The most amusing may see publication in a future article dealing with my greatest mistakes.

Happy holidays to everyone, and remember that no matter your creed, the message is always peace.

Jeremy Goodwin is an author, freelance food writer and owner of The Best Kept Secret. He may be contacted at Jeremy@dcnet2000.com