A Taste of Bergamot

While travelling on scented adventures across the globe I distinctly recall the uplifting properties that a rind of bergamot tucked in my pocket for difficult moments imparted on my nausated self. A brief whiff of its aromatherapeutic properties was my lucky charm to aliviate the stress of traveling and make me focus. It was only much later I learned that it was the traveller of travellers, Christopher Columbus, who first brought the tree to the Caribbean, where it was popularly used in voodoo rituals to protect against misfortune and that it's still used in in hoodoo rootwork, to control or command individuals!

Antonio Familiari, an 80-year-old former school teacher who tends bergamot groves off Calabria's coast in Italy is definite on the subject:"The bergamot is an intelligent creature. Its arrival in Calabria is shrouded in mystery, and even though it grows elsewhere, only in this area does it give us the essential oil", while his nails claw on a bergamot releasing the little stream of droplets that posses a soft orange undertone under the lemon sharpness. Ezio Pizzi, a 62-year-old former lawyer who returned to his family's bergamot plot after his father died a decade ago is equally enthralled by the fruit: "When I think about the possibilities for bergamot fruit, I get goosebumps." On the outskirts of Reggio di Calabria, Francesco Crispo, director of the state-founded Consortium of Bergamot Growers, has a plan for a 1,500-square metre, seven million-euro institute of perfumery.
But apart from the established role of bergamot in perfumery, is there some way of utilizing this heavenly scent into something that combines the aromatherapeutic with the gluttony? As in food and drink?

The stimulating and pleasantly refined aroma of bergamot has always been a companion in my black tea, in the form of beloved Earl Grey, possibly the best-known incarnation for most people. Its distinctive flavour and aroma derives from the addition of oil extracted from the rind of the bergamot orange; the name on the other hand derives from the 2nd Earl of Grey, British Prime Minister (1830-1834) and author of the Reform Bill of 1832, who reputedly received the aromatized tea and the recipe as a diplomatic gift by a Chinese nobleman who thus thanked him for saving his life. History proves otherwise, but that shouldn't deter you from enjoying a full cup nevertheless! Twinings, one of the loose leaves black tea brands I buy out of tradition, still has the emblem of the Earl on their nostalgic, metallic canisters. Their newest addition Lady Grey is a little pale for my tastes, but you might like it. Fortnum & Mason has a superior Earl Grey blend in their loose leaves tins and is a purchase that won't break the bank. Clearly the many drinkers of Earl Grey have been enjoying this rich, elegant richness above all else and one of the loveliest blends you can try is Adagio Earl Grey Bravo (or Aristocrate), while I also like the balanced approach of Upton Teas Earl Grey Ceylon Select. Perhaps the best novel idea I can give you is to actually ice the tea and drink it for refreshment in the summer: much more invigorating and satisfying than plain black tea with lemon!

Yet bergamot has other uses in flavourful incarnations, even though the fruit is inedible, prompting the owner of this small garden on Zante island to proclaim on this funny placard on his midget trees "they're bergamots, not lemons", to deter poachers from cutting off the fruit to use in their kitchen.

One of the loveliest and easiest ideas is to aromatize a white liquor with the washed, peeled rind. Just peel the fruit, remove the white underside, cut in small rolls and press them inside the neck of a bottle of alcholic drink. Leave them be for a couple of weeks and you will see. The idea is not drastically creative, as Triple Sec has been using citrus essences on a base of brandy distillation to act as a digestif for decades. But it's good to expand. The idea works well with Italian Grappa as well as Vino Greco and I have personally used it with good results in light white rum and local ρακί/raki. The resulting potion can be used in cocktails, imparting a delicately bitter fruity flavour.

The most traditional and devilishly tempting proposition of them all however is the Greek Bergamot spoonful treat: a single spoonful of candied fruit dessert that is served on very small crystal plates and chased down with an icy cold glass of water. The flavour is so concentrated and intense that you won't need another one. And although it's so full of sugar it has no fat whatsoever, rending it a very healthy dessert. You can buy them ready-made, but they're breezily easy to make, so here is a handed-down recipe.

Recipe for Bergamot Spoonful Sweet
You will need:

7 fresh bergamots
white sugar, as much in weight as the bergamots
water
juice of 1 lemon
1 and 1/2 cup of water for the final boil
juice of 1/2 lemon for the final boil
toothpicks
clean, boiled jar with tight-fitting lid

1. Wash the bergamots, wipe and using a kitchen scrub pad scrub until outer becomes bright yellow.
2. Cut a little off the top and the bottom and score with a sharp knife into three or four parts. With the tip of the knife, remove the skin and throw away the inner part. Remove as much white pith from the bergamot peels as possible, because it's very bitter.
3.Pick the rolls of rind and roll them securing them with the toothpicks. Place them in a large saucepan and cover them in water.
4. Bring to boiling point for 2 – 3 minutes. Remove the water and substitute with fresh. Repeath Step 4 for 3-4 times. This can be done on consecutive days or on the same day to remove some of the bitterness. The more diaphanous the water becomes, the less bitter it has got.
5.On the last boiling procedure empty hot water, add fresh cold water and the juice of 1 lemon. Put them again to boil for 10 minutes. Remove from stove and leave until the water cools. Drain them and put them on the pot again.
6.Now add the sugar and the water. Leave them for half an hour and then boil. Lower heat to medium for 15 minutes. Remove from heat and leave for a while.
Bring the bergamots again to a boil, simmer for about an hour, or until the liquid becomes clear and thick (You'll know it's ready when it forms "set" droplets that leave the spoon reluctantly when dropped). Finally add the other lemon juice, stir and leave to cool completely.
7. Place the fruit in clean jars with a lid, close tightly and place them upside down for a couple of minutes. You can keep them in a cupboard for a year.


Related reading on PerfumeShrine: the Bergamot Series, Aromatic Cuisine (scented escapades in the kitchen)

Photos copyright by PerfumeShrine and via Gayot.com

Travel Memoirs: On the Bergamot Trail

Sailing on the Mediterranean Sea under the sweltering sun of late summer on a wooden built gulet, rubber-soled feet on parquet decks, scarf on salty-sprayed hair, and the guarantee of sunshine and clear blue waters, is almost an unbearable reminiscence in the heart of winter. Relaxing on deck, wining and dining under the stars in eno-gastronomical matchings to threaten even the toughest dieter’s plan and hopping off to catch couleur locale wherever interesting is the nomadic life I would love to be able to live in full 12 months of the year, if only I could. But snippets will suffice and trailing the route where bergamot ~this prized material for both perfumery and aromatherapy~ abounds, has its own rewards to last throughout the year into the months of cold and dreary.
Bergamot is inextricably tied to Sicily (the largest island in the Mediterranean Sea), the Calabria coast of Italy and the Ionian islands at the west of Greece.
And indeed despite current cultivation on the Ivory Coast in Africa which produced a cheaper product, it is still Sicilian bergamot (and lemon too)which is considered the highest quality in the world ~although it's sad to see the groves now seem erratic and neglected. It's the kind of rich joyous aroma that scents the finest morning Earl Grey cup of tea and gives it its delightful flavour. The fruit of the bergamot is inedible but the peel can be candied into a highly scented preserve which is very popular along the breadth of the Mediterranean; an exquisitely bittersweet marmalade, yummy on rye bread and butter, is painstainkely made by housewives.

Trekking over the villages my heart aches a bit from the echo of Grecanic (Griko or Katoitaliótika), linguistic remnants of the time when Sicily and Calabria were called Magna Graecia (Greater Greece) because of the numerous villages that survived from the colonization of the Greeks in the 5th century BC. So many relics, so many conquests have left their indelible mark on this austere place…
The history of Sicily has frequently seen the island controlled by greater powers—Roman, Vandal, Byzantine, Islamic, Hohenstaufen, Catalan, Spanish; yet periods of independence, as under the Greeks and later as the Emirate- then Kingdom of Sicily- are also part of its multi-hued fabric. Since antiquity, the Sicilian landscape has hosted the cultivation of groves of Hesperidia trees, specializing in growing the sweetest lemons in the Mediterranean; cultivations interwoven in many facets of the Sicilian lifestyle.
The Garden of Hesperides according to classic Greek mythology belonged to Hera, Zeus’s wife and the Hesperides (Ἑσπερίδες) were nymphs, the daughters of Hesperus (God of the Evening Star, from whose name Vesper derives), who tended a blissful orchard in the far western corner of the world.

The peaceful place was either located near the Atlas Mountains in Libya, or on a distant island at the edge of the encircling Oceanus, the world-ocean, while Sicilian Greek poet Stesichorus and Greek geographer Strabo state that the orchard lies in Tartessos, at the southern edge of Iberia. In that garden a grove of immortality-giving “golden apples” grew. Those were planted from the fruited branches that Gaia (mother Earth) gave to her as a wedding gift when Hera married Zeus and the nymphs were given the task of tending to the grove, but occasionally plucked from it themselves. Hera also placed in the garden a never-sleeping, hundred-headed dragon named Ladon, as an additional safeguard. The eleventh labour of Hercules consisted of being ordered to steal the golden apples and bring them to Argos, Greece, although Athena later returned the apples to their rightful place. But in a strange course of events the mythological name Hesperide came to be applied to the golden fruits that came from the east, oranges, and ultimately to the entire citrus family!


Native to China and Southeast Asia (with mentions in the Nan-Fang Ts’ao Mu from the 4th century BC) and encompassing hundreds of variations, citruses were brought to the west by the Arabs through the Spice Route during the Middle Ages.
Sicily (and Spain, to a greater extent due to the longer Arab conquest) thus became centers for the cultivation of hesperidia. During the 14th century, the spice and precious metals trade was the origin of wealth for the city-states of Italy, Venice and Genoa, until the battle at Chioggia in 1380, when defeated Genoa succumbed to a new reality: monopoly of the trade by the Venicians. Often Venetian galleys intercepted easterm caravans carrying wares at Aleppo, Handax or Alexandria, transporting the loot to European artisans. Among them, citrus fruits, only much later prized on board for their ability to fight scurvy.

One version of bergamot’s etymology attributes the root to a Turkish word meaning “Princess Pear”; another, after a small town in Italy where the oil was first sold. But it is Christopher Columbus who is said to have brought bergamot oil from the Canary Islands back to Spain and Italy. The bergamot tree (citrus bergamia) is the result of cross-breeding a lemon (citrus limonia) and a bitter orange tree (citrus aurantium). Classified as a citrus, the plant originated in tropical Asia but found an excellent breeding place in Sicily, Italy and the Ionian islands. Bergamot trees grow up to 16 feet tall, producing an almost pear-shaped, yellow fruit that is highly aromatic, similar to lemon, smaller than an orange. It was once called the Bergamot Pear Tree, not be confused with "false bergamot" used to aromatize Oswego-tea and derived from the plant Monarda didyma, a type of mint indigenous to the New World. Italian-conducted research indicates that bergamot oil relieves fear and anxiety, lifts the spirits, combating depression and calms anger by balancing the activity of the hypothalamus. Bergamot oil with its optimistic ambience evokes feelings of joy and acts as a confidence booster. Bergamot essence is easy to render, as are most citruses. I still recall how transfixed I was as a child scraping my nails on a bergamot or a lemon and being left with hands that almost dribbled with the bitter-tasting sour oil which scented them for hours on end. Cold-pressed /expressed from the rinds of the sour green fruit, a pale emerald-hued oil results, bergamot essential oil, possessing a refreshing lemony-orange smell, complex and with flower accents, yet also a subtly sweet balsamic undertone that makes it pliable to numerous uses in perfumery. The main chemical constituents in bergamot oil are limonene, linalyl acetate, nerol, and linalool; all are substances antiseptic and astringent with a fresh facet. The one constituent which might be possing a certain problem is bergaptene, a photosensitising agent, which has been under the radar of recent IFRA restrictions, although since forever the advice on putting fragrance on is not to use it on parts about to be exposed to the sun.

Bergamot and its uplifting aroma is traditionally paired with materials with citrusy nuances, such as lemon, coriander or orange blossom; rosey shades such as geranium or palmarosa; aromatic herbs/trees such as lavender, cypress or juniper; and flowers such as jasmine, ylang ylang and violet. Its alliance to erotic labdanum and darkish oakmoss (often with some inclusion of patchouli) creates the classic chypre accord, to which we have devoted a whole Series. But its wondrously influential use in simpler fragrance-waters hailing from Europe cannot be ignored!

To be continued...

The joyous spirit of hesperides matches the uplifting mood of this lovely Italian song which will surely brighten your day!



Song "Vanità di Vanità", written by Angelo Branduardi from the 1983 picture "State Buoni, Se Potete" directed by Luigi Magni. This film depicts the time and life of Filippo Neri.
All pictures © copyright by Elena Vosnaki/Perfumeshrine