Blood Orange - Lavender Shrub

On Saturdays in San Francisco there’s a booth at the Ferry Building farmer’s market that, among other things, sells "shrubs"- which are pretty much fruit vinegars or "drinking vinegars". I always like to stop by and at least peruse. The different liquids in the bottles have bright jewel-like tones, and the little sips they give as samples upon request are fruity and bracing.

The Bojon Gourmet has a lavender kumquat shrub recipe in the archives that looked so nice to me... I always have lavender available to make tea (love, love, love lavender, lavender as tea of course, lavender in caramels/syrup/shortbread/ganache/whatever sweets, lavender kombucha is my go-to for that beverage ...).  All I really needed was more kumquats. I’ve been buying them and snacking on them- slightly sour and bitter little citrus eaten whole. So, I  took my Saturday morning walk to the market, hoping one of the organic farmers might have some, but there were NO kumquats to be found at any of the booths.
At all.

Lots of other citrus was piled high though: many mandarins, navel oranges, tangelos, grapefruit, Eureka lemons, Meyer lemons, sweet limes... So I decided to go with blood oranges instead, with their deep red interiors, blush of red on the orange skin, and fruit punchy-orange flavor.
With a few changes, this would be my adaptation.
I’ve kept the Meyer lemon juice (sweeter, fruity and less acidic than regular lemons), and upped the vinegar and lavender.
(By the way, recently I read an interesting article on some of the Meyer lemon history- more specifically  about Meyer... Dutch transplant and Marco Polo/Indiana Jones of the USDA.)

When it's finished, shrub is great for mixing into a drink (ice cold sparkling water or maybe some vodka... or a bit of both... maybe champagne or sparkling wine...) though sipping a shot of just the fruit infused vinegar is also kind of nice (honestly, at the very least for this particular version, I think sipping it neat is my preference).
And why wouldn’t that citrus, honey, and apple cider vinegar combination also be good for you- especially end of winter or beginning of spring?
Citrus, with its vitamin C, local honey for allergy-fighting purposes (due to the inclusion of small amounts of the regional agricultural allergens, it kind of inoculates you), cider vinegar with many reputed benefits- though right now we’ll go with probiotics via fermentation from the raw and unpasturized organic version.
(And this would be my reason for opting for a marinating method instead of one involving heat- my hopes of keeping any good stuff going.)

 

The taste is tart and sweet, fruity... there's a slight spiciness from the vinegar, with a bit of a perfumed finish that you may not be able to quite identify.

Citrus is best organic or pesticide free here (and always, actually) as you use the whole fruit, but at the very least make sure you wash it before cutting, please.

And as a little side note, Mom used to make blackberry and elderberry shrub many years ago and we thought it wasn’t that great- mostly it was just plain weird. She’d say something like, “Come on guys, THIS is what they drank before soda!”
Not that we were soda drinkers at our house, we didn’t really have it around, but maybe that was supposed to lend some draw and mystique. Needless to say, we weren't all that impressed.
But yes, it was a Colonial form of fruit preservation. "Shrub" even sounds Colonial.
Shrub.
(Though I'd bet sparkling water, if it even existed in Colonial America, if it was "manufactured" or imported somehow, likely wasn't available to everyone.  It was invented/discovered in 1767 by an English chemist named Joseph Priestly- who also invented the eraser. It's better with sparkling water than still- I think we only had it with still water those many years ago.)
Anyway, sorry Mom, I like it now.
And I'll likely be experimenting with more.

Blood Orange-Lavender Shrub
makes about 3 cups (750 ml)

1 slightly generous lb (1/2 kilo) blood oranges (better, likely juicer, if they feel heavy for their size)
1 1/4 c (300 ml) apple cider vinegar
1 cup (240 ml) mild local honey
1/2 c (120 ml) Meyer lemon juice
1/4 c (8 g) dried lavender buds (food grade)

Remove a thin slice from the top and bottom of each orange, to get rid of that extra bit of pith. Cut the blood oranges in half, pole to pole, then slice thinly and add to a clean, large glass jar (at least a quart, though more space would make things easier). Add the vinegar, honey, Meyer lemon juice, and lavender. Muddle everything together well with a very clean wooden spoon to dissolve the honey and extract juice and oils from the pieces of blood orange. Cover tightly and let the mixture sit 2-3 days (perhaps tasting it after the second day), shaking it at least once daily, giving it a good jostle to redistribute everything. Strain through a fine-mesh strainer, moderately pressing on the orange peels to extract as more of the liquid, and pour the mixture into a clean jar and refrigerate. Use as desired.
The finished shrub should last several weeks refrigerated.

*Shrub can also be used as a marinade for meats, as part of a sauce for finishing, or in a vinaigrette.

What to do with a lemony windfall...

Lots of lemons?

Today I worked on a round of preserved lemons. Such a fantastic thing to have waiting for you in the fridge.

It takes a little hands-on time, and then there's about a month of waiting patiently before they can be put to use.  It's like money in the bank, and the flavor is like nothing else. A preserved lemon is intense and lemony, but quite different than a fresh lemon. This variety adds a new dimension to foods such as chicken, fish, or sauteed vegetables that is at once familiar as it's lemon self, yet not.

 

The original post is here- it's from several years ago but it's well worth mentioning again.

Now to just wait and watch...

Ras el Hanout and Roasted Chickpeas

Ras el hanout was a spice blend I'd been hunting for a long time.
Moroccan, and meaning "top of the shop," ras el hanout is the best of what a spice merchant has to offer, everything pulled together in one blend.
Needless to say, there's no one specific blend, but many versions.
I suppose it all has to do with what one person's "best" might be, where the quality lies.
Some may contain more than 30 different spices in one blend (in contrast, what I have here is 14).
Potentially including spices such as ginger, saffron, turmeric, fennel, cardamom, rosebuds, lavender, a variety of peppers, cloves, both nutmeg and mace.... somewhat like a curry powder, it's exotic and intensely flavorful.

As I said, I'd been trying to find this spice blend for quite a while, but was never able to find any in stores when I looked. Online, yes.
After tasting someone else's gorgeous spice blend which was inspired by ras el hanout, I thought I'd mix up some of my own.
Yes, there was a jumping off point (found on about.com), obviously there had to be a jumping off point since ras el hanout is pretty far from my own personal background, but things can be very easily made your own when cooking.
Change a bit of this and that, add some of those... and obviously since there are no "rules" per se as everyone seems to have his or her own special recipe, if you like it, it works.

Everything rolled into one when it comes to spices, it runs warm, sweet, savory and spicy. Certainly flavorful and deep, spiced, but not overly spicy, the scent is pretty amazing. I wish you could at the very least smell it (I think it very easily elicits a well-deserved "wow").
I've been finding myself putting this spice blend on everything.
Truly.
Eggs, roasted vegetables (great on sweet potatoes), chicken, fish...
Though it hasn't been attempted yet, I think it would be equally nice on freshly stovetop-popped popcorn.

It's also very great mixed with a little olive oil, minced garlic, and preserved lemon peel to make a paste as a rub for roast chicken.

Add to a saucy chicken dish- perhaps a tagine?

I'm finding it does well with things that are particularly bland.
Thus the recipe for roasted chickpeas below (which would be really good on top of a salad)

Some of the spices called for are definitely going to be previously ground, no two ways about it over here. This is due in part to the fact that some are more difficult to find whole, maybe they don't "exist" whole, but others are more difficult to grind (I can't find pre-dried hunks of whole ginger to grind myself and I decided it wasn't going to be time-effective to open 50 cardamom pods to get the seeds I needed). If I DO call for grinding spices, it's only because it's definitely do-able in the situation called for.

Coriander seed, for example, is something I can occasionally find at a specialty grocery store. But, of course, I can't find it when I need it.
I can go to the spice shop, sure, but I don't always physically want to go there.
Sometimes there's something to be said for ease.

BUT, if things are accessible to you, and if you have the capacity, I would encourage toasting and grinding your own spices. The flavors will be much more present, as with pre-ground spices the flavors from the oils can quickly dissipate.
For example, I NEVER choose pre-ground nutmeg.  The flavor and taste of freshly ground does not compare to the dustiness frequently found in the jarred, pre-ground stuff.
Please invest in whole nutmeg if you can.

Here goes...

Ras el Hanout
Makes about 1/2 c (about 45 g)

2 t (5 g) ground ginger
2 t (5 g) ground cardamom
2 t (6 g) ground mace
1 1/2 t (4 g) ground cinnamon
1 1/4 t (4 g) ground cumin 
1 t (3 g) ground allspice
1 t (3 g) ground coriander seed 
1 t (3 g) ground turmeric
1 t  (3 g) ground nutmeg 
3/4 t (3 g) cayenne pepper
1/2 t (2 g) ground white peppercorns
1/2 t (2 g) ground black peppercorns
1/2 t (2 g) ground anise seeds
3 whole cloves, ground 

Mix all spices thoroughly and store in a covered container away from light and heat.
Use as desired.  

Ras el Hanout Roasted Chickpeas
makes about 1 1/2 cups

1 T (15 ml) olive oil
2 t (5 g) Ras el Hanout
1 t (5 g) salt
2 t (10 ml) lemon juice
15 oz can (425 g) chickpeas, drained and rinsed

Preheat the oven to 425 F/ 220 C.
Line a sheet pan with parchment paper and set aside.

Mix the olive oil, Ras el Hanout, salt, and lemon juice together to make a paste. Stir in the chickpeas, toss and fold the mixture so that the chickpeas become well-coated. 
Pour the chickpeas out onto the parchment paper, making sure to spread into a single layer. 

Roast the chickpeas 20 minutes, stir, and cook another 10-15 minutes, stirring every few minutes so that they cook evenly. 
When the chickpeas are golden brown, remove the pan from the oven and let cool completely. Store any extra in a covered container. 

Growing Ginger

 

This actually wasn't one of my thoughts or plans for this month, but it certainly serves the purpose.
I started writing this post and taking photos quite a while back, in fact more than a year ago, but never quite finished or found a good time to post it. I decided to resurrect it.

Last year I bought a large container of fresh organic ginger.
I used most of it.
However, when the unused bit was left alone and forgotten in a cool and dark place, it sprouted.
So, technically it was still... alive.

I asked a gardening expert about growing ginger, but she didn't know, which is, I suppose, understandable.
It's probably due to the fact that there's not much call for growing tropical ginger in temperate Missouri.
A little research ensued...
I soaked the piece of ginger overnight in water, filled a large pot with soil and compost, placed the ginger in the pot close to the surface (bud facing upwards), covered it in about 1/2 inch of soil, and placed it outside.

It worked.

Young Ginger

Ginger needs to be watered frequently. Not so much water that it drowns, but being tropical it's a plant obviously used to humidity. The soil needs to be damp, but it also needs some drainage at the bottom of the pot.
The plant was left outside from about April to mid-October, and when the weather became cold the pot moved indoors for a while.
The great thing is that it was viable. Growing ginger in middle America is not impossible.

Ginger, being a root, won't actually be visible as it grows.
But of course, you'll get some above-the-ground bamboo-like foliage to let you know that it's healthy and growing. The leaves and stems smell nice and gingery- definitely a plus.
And I've read you can steep the leaves in boiling water to make ginger tea.

There is a difference between the older, papery-brown skinned pieces of ginger you will find in the store and fresh young things potted in the back yard.
Younger ginger is less tough and stringy in texture, and the flavor is more delicate, not as strong. To use, dig up the root, cut off what you need, and bury the rest so it keeps growing.
However, I've read that the best time to harvest everything all together is once the leaves start dying. Some of it is saved for re-planting, other pieces can be frozen for later use.

Ginger grows best when started in the spring. But once it's begun, if taken care of it will grow year-round. When you go to the grocery store, just look for a really healthy piece of ginger with small delicate buds on it. They may be a lighter cream color and not covered in the papery skin, they may even be a little green- but the buds will certainly look tender when compared to the more mature ginger.

This was mostly an experiment for me. It turned out pretty well and I think I'll do it again.
It's doable and certainly a feasible option for anyone who might really like fresh ginger and be interested in growing it.

So, the ginger had been growing for 18 months to 2 years. 
I didn't really harvest much until just now when I dug up all of it.  
In large part the reason for this drastic move was because I didn't think the pot in which I'd planted the ginger could take it any more. Besides, the stems and leaves had turned brown a while back and the plants had been cleaned up a bit. All that could be seen at this point were little knobs of ginger root poking above the soil's surface all over the pot. 
And so, the pot was pretty much emptied of it's contents, the roots were trimmed up and cleaned off, rinsed, and set outside to dry a bit. 
I ended up with about 2 1/2 lb. (more than 1 kg) of ginger.
Some will certainly be saved and re-planted, perhaps in a pot that's a little wider and a bit more shallow. 

I have a penchant for fresh ginger.  It's a good thing because I now have plenty to use.

So far, I think my favorite posted recipes including ginger have been:

Carrot Soup
Butternut Squash and Apple Soup
Sweet Potato Casserole
Cardamom Chicken Curry
Vegetable Korma
Kedgeree
Rice Bowls
Thai Green Chicken Curry

When dealing with fresh ginger, I find the best way to peel it is using a spoon. The papery skin comes off easily and you don't lose any of the actual ginger (as you might with a peeler or a knife).

Sometimes we really like to make a ginger tea. It's very easy, and there's no real set-in-stone recipe, just guidelines. I usually eyeball everything.
Place slices of fresh ginger in a pan of water and bring to a boil (I like to be generous with the ginger). Boil for 10 minutes or so and then let it steep for another 10. Strain the ginger tea into glasses, add some fresh lemon juice and honey to taste. If the ginger happens to be too strong, just dilute with some hot water.

Playing With Food

OFFICIAL ZERGUT TRAILER from CHAYKA SOFIA on Vimeo.

I think it must be a horror movie... and a reminder to clean out the fridge.