Carrot Cupcakes with Cream Cheese Frosting: Adventures in the Kitchen

Yes, you are looking at five dozen boxes of the carrot cupcakes I've made. Though truth to be told I haven't had this exact recipe written down until six weeks ago, when my friend Caroline asked me out of the blue to share, simply because people in my office love them so much. ("The best thing I've put in my mouth" was the generous review from a co-worker.)

~by guest writer AlbertCAN

Carrot cupcakes with cream cheese frosting by AlbertCAN, all rights reserved, use granted for PerfumeShrine by the owner

Am I this expert at baking? Not at all. In fact I only know how because I used to be terrible at baking cupcakes. Ghastly terrible. But I tested recipes and learned from my mistakes. The recipe is simply a starting point for any baker, although for best results anybody starting out should stick reasonably close to a recipe. (A friend tried making this recipe last weekend without adding carrots. No carrots. He ended up eating hockey pucks unfortunately.) I have, however, noted some reasonable changes to this recipe.

The cupcake itself is essentially uses just one bowl, although anyone trying this out for the first time probably should use 2 (one for the wet and one for dry ingredients). The secret to the cream cheese frosting here is actually buttermilk powder, which is available in fine food stores. (Do not substitute buttermilk for buttermilk powder.) I have tried making this recipe with zucchini or chestnut: I'm sticking with the carrot version though.

The recipe takes about 90 minutes to complete, although I usually make the cake and the frosting separately the day before an event, and just frost the cupcakes the morning of.

NOTE: Normally a carrot cupcake recipe calls for regular baking soda, but I've tested double-acting baking powder, and found it to be much better here. The former will lend a slightly wet texture, whereas double-acting will give the cupcakes the necessary extra lift during baking.

CARROT CUPCAKES WITH CREAM CHEESE FROSTING
(Adapted from America’s Test Kitchen)

Makes about 18 large cupcakes

Carrot Cupcake

1 ¾ cups all-purpose flour
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon double-acting baking soda
1 ½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
¾ teaspoon ground nutmeg
½ teaspoon salt
¼ teaspoon ground cloves
1 ¼ cups light brown sugar
¾ cup canola oil
3 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla extract"
2 ⅔ cups shredded carrots (about 4 large carrots)
zest of 1 fresh large sweet orange (optional)

Frosting

16 tablespoons butter, softened*
3 cups confectioners' sugar
⅓ cup buttermilk powder
2 teaspoons vanilla extract"
¼ teaspoon salt
12 ounces cream cheese, chilled and cut into 12 equal pieces

Directions

1. FOR THE CAKE: Adjust oven rack to middle position and heat oven to 350 degrees. Fill a large cupcake tray with cupcake liners. Whisk flour, baking powder, baking soda, cinnamon, nutmeg, salt, and cloves together in large bowl.

2. In a separate bowl whisk sugar, oil, eggs, vanilla extract and orange zest (if using) together until mixture is smooth. Using a large box grater shred the carrots on a large kitchen towel. Pat the carrots dry before stirring in. Add flour mixture and fold with rubber spatula until mixture is just combined. Do not overmix.

3. Transfer batter to prepared pan. Bake until center of cake is firm to touch, 15 to 18 minutes. Cool cake in pan before removing them out of the pan for frosting, at least 30 minutes. Bake the remaining cupcake batter until all finished.

4. FOR THE FROSTING: Using stand mixer fitted with paddle, beat butter, sugar, buttermilk powder, vanilla, and salt on low speed until smooth, about 2 minutes, scraping down bowl as needed. Increase speed to medium-low; add cream cheese, 1 piece at a time; and mix until smooth, about 2 minutes. Do not overmix.

Use a butter knife, apply the cream cheese onto the cupcake. Lift the knife straight up after each application to create even small peaks. Decorate each cupcake with one almond, if desired.

“ I substitute 1 large Tahitian vanilla bean for every teaspoon of vanilla extract in this recipe.
* The original recipe calls for unsalted butter but I actually use regular cultured butter, and just omit the salt altogether. Very unusual, but it works great for me. Perhaps it’s the subtle tang in cultured butter that adds another dimension to the frosting.

Photo by AlbertCAN. All rights reserved.

Summer Love Potions

Imagine sipping on a cocktail that tastes just as sexy as your favorite perfume smells. Combine your scent with your drink as an unforgettable aphrodisiac pair. The scent: Safran Troublant, by L'Artisan Parfumeur THE DRINK: 1 ½ oz Dry Gin, ¾ oz saffron and vanilla bean syrup, ½ oz fresh lemon juice, Rosé champagne, White rose petal.

Read on this link to see how Mindy Yang of MiN New York’s apothecary and cocktail architect, Yusef Austin, created delicious, drinkable counterparts to five seductive perfumes.

Granizado de Limon: Andalusia in a Glass

Throughout Granada and Seville in arid southern Spain there are tiny shops and street sellers peddling their icy cold wares to thirsty travelers. Among them the crisp granizado de limon is probably the most refreshing, the tart and juicy flavor trickling down the throat with the deep "aaaaah" of genuine relief. If you have a drop of vodka added the "aaah" factor increases (I'll save the limoncello recipe for another day to share with you). 

via

These past few days have been so hot that the granizados de limon have been numerous around here, though not all alcoholic of course. In a moment of sharing I unearthed this home recipe for granizado: you'll need 1 kilo of fresh, heavy for their size lemons, 1 kilo of water, 1/2 kilo of sugar and some caramel color. You can see the rest on the video. The drink also goes great with ginger or mint leaves. 

From Sweaty Stink to Sweet Goodness: The Magic of Browning

It never ceases to strike me as nothing short of magical how turning chopped onions in a pan over a hot stove fills the kitchen with the aroma of sweet caramel, succulent and penetrating to the very core of things. Usually the pleasantly invasive aroma, sneaking like Santa Claus down the chimney to offer gifts, complements the rich savory scent of meat or the naturally sweet and sour aroma of fresh tomatoes. It was for a vegetable & meat dish involving roasted eggplants and pork for which I stood over the stove the other day, browning onions slowly and thinking about the complexity of scent which man has added to the already rich palette of the natural world. By simply introducing the element of fire (simmering, browning, roasting over an open flame or over charcoals) man multiplied the pleasure of the olfactory sense exponentially. The reason is less romantic than my introduction, but fascinating to follow nonetheless.

via pinterest

Onions specifically offer a great glimpse into the mechanism of this aroma giving process. Their sulfurous "bouquet" has been likened to the scent of female sweat (as has grapefruit, another sulfurous material), but no matter what your view on that is (Flaubert and Baudelaire notwithstanding), most people classify volatile sulfurous components as unpleasant, more on which later. The organosulfur compounds called thiols present in onions (allyl mercaptan is the compound released upon slicing an onion) form a group,  also called mercaptans in the older days; a portmanteau deriving from the Latin mercurium captans  thanks to their superior bonding ability to mercury compounds. Thiols/Mercaptans are compounds with the -SH group bonded to a carbon atom.

Now you might be forgiven to think that mercaptans remind you of decay and stench; they're produced by animal and plant decay, are found in beer that has been exposed to ultraviolet light or in faulty wines (sulfur and yeast reacting in wild patterns) and are infamously contained in skunk secretions and in flatus. One form of mercaptan, T-butyl mercaptan, is routinely added to otherwise odorless natural gas to render a leak more likely to be detected. But they're not a damning thing per se: specific forms of thiols are responsible for the characteristic and coveted scent profile of grapefruit or ~interestingly!~ released upon roasting coffee beans, surely my idea of heaven this side of heaven.

The good part involving cooks and onions is that thiols can be easily oxidized to disulfides and higher oxidation products such as sulfonic acids, free from the associations had with their predecessor. Furthermore onions are comprised of 75%  water and they contain complex sugars. By browning a sliced onion in the pan the increased temperature makes water evaporate and break the bonds that hold chemical compounds contained and we see the plant matter shrink in front of our eyes and become soft and miserable. Yet those complex sugars are thus broken into monosacharides, i.e. glycose and fructose, resulting in caramelization and a more intense, sweet flavor than previously.

The so called Maillard reactions, a non-enzymatic type of chemical reaction that happens a lot in the kitchen, even at room temperature, also accounts for the breakdown of a reducing sugar with an amino acid, rendering things brown (This is the chemical process responsible for the nicely brow appearance of baked goods). The larger the sugar, the slower it'd react with the amino acids. Last but not least, the cysteine in the stewed pork (another sulfur containing ingredient) reacts with the sugars in the onions in another Maillard reaction to render the umami of meat that fills the mouth with rich satisfaction and the kitchen with the sweet caramel goodness of a deceptively wholesome dish. How far the mind can wander while making dinner…

Making your Own Rich Vanilla Extract & Savory Vanilla Bean Sauce (Vanilla Series)

There's something deeply satisfying about making your own condiments at home. The swirls of caramel, the folding of cocoa dust into coconut shreds, the steeping of hot, fragrant spices into boozy liquids wafting their own magic in the kitchen is irresistible for the sensualist in all of us. Therefore when I was researching, while composing my Vanilla Series (compiling a guide into the best vanilla fragrances), I came across some delicious recipes which can whet the driest of lips and put a creative spin to the hands of even the laziest cook.

These are easy to make (I have personally tweaked & tested the recipes to ensure it) and would provide for especially fetching and heart-warming homemade gifts to offer when invited over the holidays. All you'll need are a few pretty looking jars, some bottles and decorative ribbons.

via Pinterest

Homemade Vanilla Extract

The quality of the raw materials is what makes this shine, otherwise it doesn't really require any specific skills. You will need 20 good, real preferably organic black vanilla beans, a couple of liters of premium 80 proof vodka, clear bottles with a cap, and a funnel to decant liquid into, and a week (or a month if you can spare it!) of steeping time.

You start by putting the beans whole (non peeled) into the glass bottles (divide them according to how many bottles you will fill) and carefully decanting vodka till the beans are immersed whole into the alcohol. Cap them and let them sit in a bright spot. The clear liquid will start turning golden, then ambery as the days pass. The longer it sits, it stronger the flavor becomes (same principle as with homemade liqueurs).

When ready you can stick pretty labels on the bottles and put a ribbon around the neck and you're good to go! The boozy, rich vanilla extract can be added in a pleiad of recipes and beverages from freshly made cookie dough instead of commercial vanilla and in meat dishes as an interesting addition to the deglazing of the sauce to cappuccino coffee. Enjoy!

(inspired by Bethanyactually.com)

via Pinterest

Savory Vanilla Bean Sauce 

This is great to pour onto anything that would scream for a little caramel goodness, rich in the taste of authentic Madagascar vanilla, from apple pie or crumble, to ice-cream and speculoos butter cookies or shortbread. Or feel free to experiment, it's as addictive as Nutella.

You will need:

1.5 cup caster sugar
1/3 cup water
1.5 cup whipping cream (of at least 30% fat)
1 teaspoon white vanillin crystals
1 organic vanilla bean (sliced and seeded)
2 teaspoons of coarse sea salt, shredded with pestle and mortar

Put the cream in a big cup and add the vanillin, the seeded vanilla and the shredded sea salt. Stir well.
In a saucepan, heat the water and pour the sugar over medium heat. Let it cook until it gets golden, without stirring (or the spoon would stick at this point and get messy.) Gently move the pan around if you need to.
Add the cream mixture to the pan, stirring with an egg whisker continuously until the hot bubbles go down and it sets.
Let it cool a bit and pour into clear glass sterilized jars. Cap them, turn them upside down quickly (make sure the lid is secure!) and again upside down and decorate with a nice ribbon. They should keep for a week or so in the fridge.

If you want to further aromatize the sauce, you can add the zest of one orange to the water or you can mix the vanillin crystals with freshly powdered cinnamon. It adds a special something.

(inspired by bakedbree.com)

Bon appetit!!

The Invention of Albertine: Confession of an Epicurean

―by guest writer AlbertCAN

“Indeed, my roving mind was busy with a thousand projects: a novel, travel, a play, marketing a fruit cocktail of my own invention. (Don’t ask for the recipe; I have forgotten it.)”
 ~Jean-Dominique Bauby, «Le Scaphandre et le Papillon» (1997)

Lucid intoxication is the best tease: a demure wink, the deft nudge. L'Art de la séduction interdite. With verve and panache, an exquisite intrigue is truly a meeting of the minds, for the transcendent provocation can only be mischievous when done right; any more or less the pas de deux of sensuality goes awry.

Regina Lambert: Oh, did they do that kind of thing way back in your day?
Peter Joshua: Sure. How do you think I got here?*

Source: Uploaded by user via Cheryl on Pinterest

Thus the psyche was in full epicurean swing when putting together my new signature champagne cocktail one recent morning, which took all but one nifty trial. Elena initially half-jokingly referred to it as Albertini—lovely idea, but the recipe’s lack of gin and vermouth called for a slightly different signature, so Albertine it was christened.

I have the recipe below, and true to my style it’s deceptively simple: always get the best quality ingredients one could afford when effortless chic is called for.

photo copyrighted by AlbertCAN

Albertine

One 750 mL bottle Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin brut champagne, well chilled
One carton (1 L) of unsweetened pineapple juice, well chilled
One bottle of orange blossom water
Twelve classic 6 oz. champagne flutes
Serves twelve: In each flûte à champagne add ¼ teaspoon of orange blossom water and ¼ cup of pineapple juice. The flute should be half full at this point. Top off with brut champagne. Serve immediately.

Vierge Albertine: Non-alcoholic variation. Substitute the champagne with equal part unflavoured sparkling water. (I prefer Perrier or San Pellegrino.)

Of course, the recipe in practice has plenty of savoir-faire in spades: get a 350 mL bottle of brut bubbly to halve the serving for an intimate six, or multiply thereafter according to one’s entertainment needs. Even compatible with all champagne glasses so long the master ratio below is followed:

¼ teaspoon orange blossom water for every ¼ cup unsweetened pineapple; half juice, half champagne in each glass.

I selected Veuve Clicquot because the aromatic bouquet is exceedingly smooth and intricate—not to mention beautifully priced in my end of Canada —yet frankly any dry sparkling wine of quality shall suffice. The operative words here being, of course, quality and sensibility: a delicate Prosecco could easily step in, but anything too cheaply priced is probably just, well, too cheap in taste. As for the exclusive editions of Perrier-Jouët, Louis Roederer Cristal and Dom Pérignon are definitely not expected—but who am I to say no to Dom Pérignon at a perfect moment?

Now a word of caution: Albertine, not unlike the eponymous heroine in Proust’s «À la recherche du temps perdu», goes down smooth and lingers on. An undisciplined can easily glean over six servings at once! So please experiment responsibly.

The champagne cocktail is dedicated to Jean-Dominique Bauby, whose memoir “The Diving Bell and the Butterfly” honed my aesthetics many moons ago.

"My diving bell becomes less oppressive, and my mind takes flight like a butterfly. There is so much to do. You can wander off in space or in time, set out for Tierra del Fuego or for King Midas's court. You can visit the woman you love, slide down beside her and stroke her still-sleeping face. You can build castles in Spain, steal the Golden Fleece, discover Atlantis, realise your childhood dreams and adult ambitions." -Jean Dominique Bauby, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly

* Quotes from “Charade” (1963)

Bacchic, anisic-tasting cookies: Mediterranean Fennel biscuits

You may find similar recipes under “Bacchus Biscuits” because the followers of Bacchus carried a stalk of wild fennel with them; an image rather suggestive, if you think about the symbolism of the god. Irrespective of sexual connotations fennel is very popular around the Meditternanean where anisic flavours (such as the aroma present in aperitifs such as pastis, tsipouro and ouzo) are very familiar and beloved since infancy; even bread is often peppered with anise, paired with black olives and a slice of good cheese for a light supper. These fennel biscuits are crunchy, not soft (though they're never supposed to be gritty), a popular notion with the Greeks, maybe because the arid climate allows for a coordination with the local cuisine; you would never associate mulch stuff with Mare Nostrum. In addition there's a lightly sweet aspect to fennel which is at the same time quite refreshing, further enhanced by the richness of butter and the finishing of salt. 

Whatever the secret is Fennel biscuits make for a perfect accompaniment to strong flavorful coffee (a good Greek coffee made in the traditional copper "briki" or a dark roast espresso) in the morning or in the afternoon, preferably after a brief siesta, when life seems anew full of promise and earthy pleasures. Ah...

Recipe for 25 cookies

Ingredients:

• 1/2 cup soft butter (salted)
• 3/4 cup sugar
• 1 tablespoon fennel seeds (ground)
• 1 whole egg
• 1 3/4 cups plain flour
• 3 tablespoons cornmeal
• 1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder

Directions:

1. Cream the butter and sugar together in a large bowl. Add the fennel seeds and the egg and beat. In another bowl, mix the flour, with cornmeal and baking powder, and whisk.

2. Stirring all the time, start adding the flour mix to the butter mix, slowly . When smooth and starting to come off the edges of the bowl, shape the dough into a log with floured hands, cover in plastic wrap and refrigerate overnight.

3. The next day, preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Slice off the log into small cylinders of the log, roll them into a ball, then press them lightly with a glass to flatten again; you can also cut them with coupe-pâte. Arrange the slices on a bake-sheet in your baking pan. 

4. Bake until they begin to color on the edges, about 10-12 minutes (according to how thin the "slices" you cut were). Remove and cool on a rack. They can keep in a biscuit tin for up to a month. For further effect you can sprinkle aniseed when serving. 

 Song is "Σταλιά σταλιά" (i.e. drop by drop [and insatiably I drink your kisses]), written by Georgios Zabetas and sung by Marinella.

Etsy photo

Festive Aromas: Pork Carré with Dried Apricots and Prunes

Nothing spells holidays like a gathering around the hearth, on the festive table, with good company of loved ones and sensuous food and drink to make mortality seem like an afterthought. Although many roast a turkey for the holidays, the traditional dish for Christmas in Greece has always been pork, prepared in a variety of ways. Since the pantry is so rich in dried fruits and herbs that hint at the summery pleasures nostalgically preserved for the solstice, I prefer to make the following recipe. It's very easy and quick and truly delicious, as the intermingling of flavors oscillates between savory, sweet and umami.

Ingredients

16 small cutlets of tender pork with bone (2 carrés, reserved at your butcher's)
28 dried apricots (without pits)
28 dried prunes (without pits)
8 onions, peeled & cut in halves
800ml (2.5 cans) lager beer
2 teaspoons dried thyme
1/2 teaspoon cardamom (powdered or very finely chopped)
8 spoons extra virgin olive oil
salt and pepper to taste

For the sauce
100ml white wine
1 teaspoon Dijon mustard


1.Preheat the oven at 170C.
2.Place onions, apricots and prunes in a bowl soaked in the beer for a quarter of an hour. Then drain and keep the marinate liquid.
3.Place the pork on a heatproof pan and drizzle oil and marinate over it. Sprinkle the herbs and spices and put in the oven for 1.5 hours.
4.Then add the marinated onions, prunes and apricots and let it sit for another 40 minutes, taking care so as not to let it dry (you can add spoonfuls of water if it starts having no liquid).
5.When done, transfer into pretty flatware and serve with the cooked fruits around the edges. Keep a little of the liquid off the pan at hand for the sauce.
6.Put the liquid in a small pan on the stove, add the wine and the mustard and let simmer for 5 minutes. Check for taste/saltiness. Pour over the meat and serve on the table.

It accompanies rice pilaf (preferably prepared with pine nuts and roasted chestnuts) or baked potatoes perfectly!

Merry Christmas to all who celebrate and a happy time for all!

pic via gastronomos.gr

Lemon Verbena Cream with Blackberries & Blueberries Tart: The Taste of Early Autumn Prolonged

The flavor of verbena, lemony tart and yet with a slightly bitter, herbaceous edge to it, is incomparable when used in haute cuisine. It lends the freshness of lemon without the resinous facets, while on the other hand it has a refined and uncommon profile. It's enough to use it in panacotta or crème brûlée once (or indeed as an enhancer of the meatier edges of meat or fish) to get hooked. The small, uppermost top leaves of verbena are the most tender, as are the small blossoms, handy when homegrown for the kitchen, easy to find in the grocer's, farmers' market and specialty super-markets or dried in spices & fine tea stores. 

The joy of early autumn and of the harvest season is encapsulated in a filling and eye-catching crust tart, so different than the expected pumpkin pie, hereby filled with the pillowy lemon verbena flavored cream and strewn with blackberries and blueberries: the contrast between sweet and sour is a play on the taste buds like no other.

It would be wonderful to accompany this culinary duet with the iconic, classic L'Artisan Perfumeur fragrance Mûre et Musc (Blackberry and Musk) which juxtaposes the tartness of berries with the fruity facets of a specific musk ingredient. So here's to the perfect pairing of food and perfume!

via phillymarketcafe.blogspot.com

Here is an appetising, gorgeous looking recipe adapted from pastry sous-chef Michael Brock's (of Los Angeles's Boule) Mara des Bois Strawberry Napoleons recipe:

Ingredients:

0.5 pound/ 0.220kg cold, all-butter puff pastry dough
2/3 cup whole milk
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup loosely packed fresh or dried whole lemon verbena leaves
1/2 vanilla bean, split, seeds scraped
2 large egg yolks
1 1/2 teaspoons cornstarch
2 teaspoons all-purpose flour
1/2 teaspoon unflavored gelatin
1 tablespoon water
1/2 cup heavy cream
2 cups approx. of fresh blackberries and blueberries

Preparation:

1. Preheat your oven to 375°F/190°C.

2. Prepare the pastry: Line a baking sheet with parchment paper. On a lightly floured work surface, roll out the puff pastry and then transfer to sheet. Chill for 10 minutes in the fridge. Then cover the pastry with parchment paper and top with another baking sheet (to prevent the pastry from puffing when baking). Bake for about 35 minutes. Remove sheet and parchment on top and let it cool completely off while you prepare the cream.

3. Make the cream: Bring the milk and sugar to a simmer in a saucepan. Add the lemon verbena leaves and the vanilla bean and seeds. Remove from the heat, cover and let stand for 15 minutes. Strain into a measuring cup. In a bowl, whisk the egg yolks with cornstarch and flour and slowly whisk in the hot milk. Pour the mixture into the saucepan and cook until the pastry cream is thick and comes off the sides of the pan. Transfer the pastry cream to a bowl.

4. In a glass bowl, sprinkle the gelatin over the water and let stand until it becomes soft. Heat the gelatin on bain-mari until melted. Whisk the gelatin into the warm pastry cream until they're mixed well. Now chill the cream in the fridge.

5. Use your electric mixer to beat the heavy cream until it stiffens. Fold the the remaining whipped cream with a rubber spatula into the refridgerated lemon verbena cream and put in the fridge again for a few minutes.

6. When thoroughly chilled, pour the cream over the pastry and decorate with fresh blackberries and blueberries and a twig of verbena leaves.

 Bon appetit!

Related reading on Perfume Shrine: Aromatic Cuisine, scented recipes and epicurean adventures

Seker Pare & Halva: Semolina Recipes to Usher the Cold in with Glee

The Arabian word ḥalwà is mellifluous enough, rolling off the tongue, to induce fantasies of a Sarayı drenched in moonlight. But learn that the Turkish Şekerpare means "the dancer's bellybutton" and let the imagination roll...Seker Pare are mouth-watering "cookies" if you will, made with fine semolina, baked until golden and then soaked in sweet syrup. The rounded curves of the pastry recall the plump and inviting belly of a belly dancer, the almond in the middle is...the belly button. But no, the pedestrian reality is that Şeker means sugar in Turkish and Pare is the Persian word for "piece". The fantasy version is so much more creative though, isn't it?

Devouring the popular Greek food magazine "Gastronomos" (literally arbitrer of the belly) I happened upon Ketty Koufonikola, owner of Cafe Avissinia (tfuno  navigate site!) in Athens' Monastiraki district, who presented a recipe for Şekerpare; here slightly adapted for home preparation. Kaiti's cooking combines the distinct cuisines of Constantinople/Istanbul and Northern Greece and this recipe is no exception.

As to halva (a popular dessert in both the Middle East, the Balkans and India) I need to point that in Greece we tend to eat both types of halva: the sticky semolina type and the crumbly sesame paste type (made with tahini), what the Jewish call "halvah", though made without the soapwort. But only one of these is made at home, the former, which accounts for the use of "grocer's halvah" appelation that the latter type still retains among the elders; a small quantity bought for the days of Lent ensured ample nutrition for the family. Interestingly, it's the sesame paste type that has been handed down through classical times, a no doubt proof of the fact that adiposity is the path to an ethnos's spiritual ruin. But I digress.
It is the semolina type halva, in various orchestrations/twists, which has marked many wintry afternoons of my childhood, as we stirred with big wooden spatulae, me and my mother, on pots with olive oil and golden dust, to make a yummy dessert which aromatized the whole house with its spicy bouquet. Its super-easy recipe to remember, short-handed into "1:2:3:4", as it calls for one unit of oil, two of semolina, three of sugar and four of water, is etched in my memory.

Recipe for Greek Semolina Halva

1 cup of extra virgin olive oil
2 cups of wheat semolina, rough grind
3 cups of white granulated sugar
4 cups of water
2-3 cinnamon sticks
5-10 cloves
1/3 cup raisins
1/3 cup pine nuts

Put the oil and semolina in a big pot under slow fire on the stove and stir slowly until golden. Then add the raisins and pine nuts and keep on the stove for a little longer, till the pine nuts are golden too.

In the meantime, get the water to boil with the sugar and the aromatics in another pot. When it's bubbling vigorously, pour slowly into the pot with the semolina, stirring quickly (and carefully, it will bubble and might sprinkle you with hot material!) until thoroughly mixed.

Stir, stir and stir some more over the stove, until it doesn't stick to the pot and most water has seemingly evaporated. Pour over a deep bowl and let it sit covered with a thin napkin (it will still steam a bit and you want as much water evaporated as possible, as this will make it lighter on the stomach). You can then decorate with blanched almonds, shredded walnuts or raisins, sprinkle with grounded cinnamon and serve when cool.

Καλή όρεξη!

Recipe for Turkish Şekerpare

2 sticks butter at room temperature
1/2 cup sugar
2 eggs

2 1/2 cups flour

1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/3 cup fine semolina

1/3 cup whole blanched almonds

for the syrup:

2 cups water

2 cups sugar

orange blossom water/hydrosol
lemon peel
2 vanilla pods

Pre-heat the oven to 190C/375F degrees. Whisk together the flour and baking powder in a bowl and set aside. Cream the butter and sugar together until fluffy. Add the eggs stirring carefully. Stir in the semolina and mix lightly. Add the flour and mix until the dough no longer sticks to the sides of the bowl (use a bit more flour if necessary).

Line a cookie sheet with parchment. Form the dough into balls the size of a chestnut and place on the parchment. Place a whole almond in the center of each ball, pushing it halfway in. Bake until light golden. 

In the meantime, heat 2 cups of water with 2 cups of sugar, add  and bring to a boil. Add a 3-inch piece of lemon peel and two vanilla pods, opened & scraped, and let it simmer.

Remove the cookies from the oven, and immediately pour thehot syrup with a spoon on each and every one of them, allowing them to absorb the syrup. They should be spongy but not soggy.
Eat at room temperature and keep in an air-tight tin box.

pic of sekerpare via otikatsi-soula.blogspot.com, pic of halva via cretaolympias.gr

Panettone: Classic Italian Flavour for Christmas

Michele Franzan, writer for Gola Gioconda, a Florentine food magazine, advises buying panettone from a first-rate baker. I am reminded of this wise advice preparing for wintertime Venice, where the scent of bakeries is filling the air with trails of scent which you have to follow through the small cobblestone alleys and the bridges over the canals. I will miss making it from scratch myself this year.

This succulent, but tricky to make, bread-pudding from Lombardy in Northern Italy is forever associated with Christmas preparations, ever since its humble origins at the Sforza times (Milanese rulers in the late 15th and early 16th century). An absentminded cook burnt the dessert for Christmas' Eve and in his mortification his assistant Toni suggested using the leftover dough with what was on hand at the moment: eggs, raisins, candied fruits, butter and sugar. The end result was lavishly compliment, but the cook recounted with humility that “L’è ’l pan del Toni” (It is Toni’s bread). This is most probably fiction, no less because Toni is such an Italian-American nickname, and theories abound on the origins of the word and the recipe (Among them “Pane di tono” from French the “pain de ton”, aka “rich people’s bread”, and the Milanese “panett”, from the “panett de butter” i.e. small pack of butter).

Whatever the reality is, there is no doubt that panettone is delicious in its pliable sponginess, its fresh flesh yielding under the teeth and its candied fruits and raisins tickling the palate into a panorama of flavour. It's a hard to resist delicacy, reminiscent of fragrance and in fact often standing in for one on the day one prepares it.The whole house fills then with the creamy scent of melted butter and the baking aroma of sugared fruits and eggs, the whole emitting its rich, inviting, comforting scent all around. This is one of the main reasons to bake your own, besides the industrial ready-made variety being not as fresh and possessing a slightly plasticky texture. In reality it's no harder than kneading and baking your own bread.

Panettone Recipe:

For the first rising:
5 ounces (140 g) fresh yeast cake(at the refrigerator section of good supermarkets and at the baker's)
3 1/3 cups (400 g) flour
3/8 cup (90 g) unsalted butter
5/8 cup (110 g) sugar
6 yolks
1/2 teaspoon salt
4/5 cup (200 ml) tepid water

For the second rising:
2 1/3 cups (280 g) flour
5/8 cup (110 g) unsalted butter
7/8 pound (400 g) sultana raisins
1/2 cup (100 g) sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 teaspoon honey
1/2 teaspoon salt
6 yolks
A little flour for dusting the work surface and mold

The how to:
The evening before, melt the butter over a very low flame or a double boiler. Dissolve the sugar in about 2/5 cup (100 ml) of warm water (not too hot or it will kill the yeast, test with your hand). Put the melted butter, salt, and yeast cake in a mixing bowl. Next add the yolks and sugar, and sift in the flour without stopping whisking (It might take a tad more water at this stage). You want a smooth dough with plenty of air bubbles (too much whisking will burst them and it won't rise properly). Put it in a lightly floured bowl, cover it with a kitchen towel, and keep it warm (85 F, 30 C) for the night.

The next morning wash the raisins, drain them well, and set them on a cloth to dry.
The dough should have trippled in volume by now. Put on a working surface and add the flour, vanilla, yolks and honey. Knead with youy hands for about 20 minutes in all directions, then work in all but 2 tablespoons of the butter, which you will have melted as before, and a little water with a pinch of salt.
The dough will become shiny and will unstick: it's time to add the fruit. Divide into little balls that will later go into a baking tray (A pannetoni baking tray is best, but one for cake or for cupcakes will do in a pinch).

Take the balls of dough and put them in a warm corner, letting them rise again for 30 minutes. Grease your hands after they rise and gently put them into a baking tray (A panettoni baking tray is best, but one for cake or for cupcakes will do in a pinch). Leave them like that in a warm, humid corner for another 6 hours.

Heat the oven to 380 F (190 C). Cut an x into the top of each panettone and put 2 tablespoons (30 g) unsalted butter over the cuts. Put them in the oven, and after 4 minutes, remove them and quickly push down on the corners produced by the cuts. Return them to the oven and bake them until a skewer inserted into the middle comes out dry.
When ready, cool the panettoni on a rack; they're ready to serve.You can decorate with sliced blanched almonds if you like, sticking them with a tiny bit of cake frosting, though I personally prefer not to.
Panettoni keep for a good two weeks in a large air-tight biscuit tin, though it's ever so better when fresh.

Bon appetit and Merry Christmas to you!

pic koritsiagiaspiti.blogspot.com

Lemon Cloud dessert, enhanced by lemon & bergamot fragrance, by chef Joredi Roca

Jordi Roca is the youngest of the Roca brothers, owners of Celler de Can Roca, one of the best restaurants in Spain. He is the pastry chef, and his desserts based on popular fragances like Eternity, Tresor or Carolina Herrera are famous.
Lemon Cloud is now a stand-alone fragrance available online, inspired by his depicted dessert!

Jasmine Gin Fizz: Floral-Laced Cocktail Recipe for Festive Nights

We have to thank Korres, the Greek company, for this recipe of floral-laced festive Jasmine Gin Fizz brought to you today thanks to the sharing spirit of my reader Morticia. Now that the nights are longer, and more inviting to parties, we can get to the spirit of the upcoming festivities with something alcoholic. Gin Fizz recalls the sparkling nature of Lubin's classic fragrance by the same name, whetting the appetite of this perfumeholic for an accompanying sip on the lips.

The recipe here follows a late 19th century Silver Fiz cocktail version, which was updated by chef Ryan Fitzerald, who always wanted to incorporate the floralcy of jasmine tea into a gin cocktail (he added honey to bring on the fruitiness of jasmine in the blend).
The recipe suggested by Korres below is even easier:

Jasmine Gin Fizz

Ingredients:
2 ounces jasmine gin
1 ounce fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon superfine sugar
club soda
ice

Preparation:
To make the jasmine gin, you soak two jasmine teabags in 8 ounces of gin for one hour. Then get the teabags out and count 2 ounces of the liquid. Add and stir 1 ounce of fresh lemon juice and the sugar. Shake so that sugar dissolves. Strain over ice in a suitable glass (get out the cocktail glasses!). Top with club soda.

L'chaim!

photo via whimsically wishing blog

A Dish for All Saints & the Day of the Dead: Ancient Bittersweet Koliva

The season of mists is upon us, the fireplace silent with the first ashes lain motionless, morning frost chilling the small of my back as I roll out of bed begrudgingly. The protracted dawn, diminishing in light, reminds me of the dwindling of daytime and brings the knowledge of death closer. The knowledge that, like with all natural things, this is the fate that awaits every one of us too, some day. It is then, at those early morning hours, Halloween looming or not, curling my hands around the steamy cup of malotira tea, looking through the misty windows at the black-billed magpies, gliding from perch to perch with renewed vigour, that I think of my dearly departed. There is deep feeling, akin to drama, in all aspects of commemorating the dead in my culture.

And this is where the "kollyva/koliva" (κόλλυβα) pudding comes in, making me a little choephoros (libation bearer), as I amass pots & pans and test the heaviness of the pomegranates to determine whether their seeds will be juicy enough.

A special memorial dish of the Eastern Orthodox and Greek Catholic church, made of shredded wheat, nuts, raisins, pomegranate seeds and sugar, koliva/kolyva/kollyva is widespread across the Balkans (Serbs call theirs Koljibo for instance) and has an ancient lineage: The word derives indeed from the ancient Greek κόλλυβο, which meant "grain of cereal". The dish is prepared at home but served (and shared) in church for the benefit of departed souls. Participating into preparing and sharing a meal for the dead ~even another person's dead~ is a mystagogy. It's the belief of our ancestors needing life to continue, to be sustained in memory, to still need nourishment; if not in the literal sense, in the spiritual one. By remembering them, we hold them in Elysium.
In a way, it's close to how the Mexicans observe their own Day of the Dead; celebrating life in all its earthen dimensions means honouring the dead; they were  a part of life's cycle and can still be, beckoning as we do to visit us in their soul form again and humouring them by relaying funny stories of their passage on earth.

Everything in the preparation of the delicious dish of "koliva" is symbolic, with tentacles griping both the Pagan and the Christian world, as befits every traditional Greek ritual. The boiled wheat is a throwback to rural products offerings to the many gods of antiquity responsible for the good crops. It's also a symbol of resurrection; as the grain of wheat is planted in the soil to take root and bring forth fruit, so is man buried with the promise of resurrection. Nuts and raisins are the most concentrated forms of sustenance, essential for the soul's passage through Hades. Anise seeds help to establish psychic sight and ward off the evil eye. Pomegranate seeds recall Persephone and her tale of diving into the Underworld; pomegranate the common thread between the two realms. Dusting sugar is mounted on top to represent the grave, parsley chopped across the borders to recall "the place of growth, of coolness, of repose" that Heaven stands for, rose water to evoke serenity. The dessert is decorated with a cross and the deceased initials in sugared almonds and sometimes "silver candy" and a small candle is lit while the blessing is read; the pudding is then passed onto bystanders in waxed paper bags with a little spoon to eat on the spot or keep for later. But take koliva home and you have to eat it till night falls, or the magic is lost! But with a sweet taste like that, who's to refuse? The oily and crunchy center of the nuts, the starchy chewy grains, the cool and juicy pomegranate seeds make for a delightful contrast of flavours you will want to repeat again and again, preferably unrelated to anyone's passing on.

HOW TO MAKE BITTERSWEET "KOLIVA" PUDDING:

Ingredients needed:
1 cup of shredded whole wheat
4 cups of water
1 cup of chopped nuts (walnuts, almonds, pistachios)
1/2 cup of holden raisins
1/2 cup of pomegranate seeds
1 teaspoon of powdered cinnamon
1 teaspoon of anise seeds, finely milled
1 tablespoon of rose water

For the top decoration:
1 cup of powdered sugar
3/4 cup of sugar-coated almonds (sometimes sold as "Jordan almonds")
chopped fresh parsley (about 1/2 cup, but it really depends on the borders of the dish you use)

Preparation
The night before:
Rinse and drain the wheat. Cook it as you would rice, for about one to one and a half hours over a medium-low stove. Do not overcook and check the wheat as it's cooking for doneness. (It should retain a tiny bit of crunch). Pour the hot wheat into a large colander, rinse with very cold water to stop the cooking and allow to drain overnight, covering loosely with a towel. Do NOT refrigerate! (The chill hardens the starch in the grain and you don't need that for this recipe, you want it to be fluffy)

In the morning:
In a large bowl mix the wheat with the assorted nuts, the raisins, the pomegranate seeds, the cinnamon and the anise powdered and add the rosewater for flavour. Transfer the mixture into a wide bowl or deep pan. Now place a piece of waxed paper on top of the mixture and flatten the top, so that sugar is evenly distributed. Sprinkle powdered sugar evenly over the wheat mixture. If you want to decorate with specific lettering or a cross or something, you can make your own cardboard stencil and shift the powdered sugar atop the wheat layer accordingly, leaving an imprint, so to speak. Also use the sugared almonds to make designs or just use them to line the bowl/pan. Finally, add the chopped parsley on the edges. A candle is placed in the middle and lit during the memorial service*.

When ready to serve, take large spoonfuls, minding that you put both sugar and the wheat & nuts mixture in each person's portion. Share!

Θεός σχωρέσ'τους και ζωή σε λόγου σας! May God rest their soul and give life on to you!


Music clip: Traditional lament (amané) from Asia Minor "I told you once, I tell you again (do not go to the sea)" sung by rock singer Babis Stokas. (A more traditional version with folk instruments and beautiful photos can be heard here)

*If you want to do this properly as a commemoration** of your dearly departed, plan to be at church before Liturgy begins so that you can give the bowl and your list of names of your deceased family and friends to the priest for the blessing. 

**According to Orthodox Christian Church tradition, koliva is offered in the Church at the mnemosynon rite (i.e. commemoration) 3 days after death, 9 days after death, 40 days, 6 months, one year after death, and whenever desired thereafter.
***another recipe and home-taken photos by a half-Greek on Feeding the Saints blog. 

Related reading on Perfume Shrine:  Pomegranate: Scent, Flavour & Mythology, Aromatic Cuisine: Scented Cooking

Photo of koliva dish via suvin saran, inspired by Maria Speck's book Ancient Grains for Modern Meals.
Pic of Pamaretto and portion of Sandro Botticelli's Madonna of the Pomegranate via examiner.com
Mexican Catrinas via wikimedia commons.

Ambergris-laced Chocolate, Negus Cocktail & Cooking with Grey Amber

Have you ever tasted ambergris? If you stop to think that it was prized for centuries not only for its aromatic, but also aphrodisiac qualities, the question becomes less strange.  
The history of ambergris consumption is both varied and intriguing: At Falstaff's table (a character possibly based on Sir John Oldcastle) his favourite Sack wine was spiced with ambergris. Cardinal Richelieu ate ambregris-flavored chocolates and grey amber pastilles with gusto! On a sinister note, King Charles II of England famously and decadently breakfasted on eggs with (then as now very expensive) ambergris, and his mysterious death following a sudden stroke on February 16, 1685, gave rise to rumors of foul play; ambergris could have been the necessary concealer of poison, thanks to its rich, complex flavour. Indeed as I crumble a tiny lump to heat with my experimental eggs, I perceive that the pumice-like substance melts away easily with heat, imparting a delicious aroma. Even more decadently, during the Renaissance a dessert of iris flower jelly with ambergris posset (pictured below) was made for lords and queens; shooting two birds of expensive and fragrant materials with one stone!

But not all was for pleasure: During the Black Plague ambergris was considered to be prophylactic use. Historian Paul Freedman writes that "Ambergris was considered the sovereign preventative drug against the plague." and people carried a grain in their pocket to stave away the miasma in the air. Alas, it didn't work so well, but they must have smelled good while at it.

Later, the renowned gastronome Brillat-Savarin recommended a chocolate drink for warming up, boosting the immune system and at the same time savouring the best of refined foods: "Chocolat Ambré" (of which I present a recipe below) was made with shaved dark chocolate and hot water, laced with a substantial amount of grinded ambergris. La Marquise de Pompadour was fond of eating truffles and celery soups followed by cups of chocolat ambré "to raise the spirits and arouse the passions".

In the Middle East men consume ambergris to stimulate their sexual prowess while women believe the practice helps with infertility. Ibn Battuta, known as "the Traveler of Islam", narrates to have observed with astonishment in a city in Persia that people ate hashish and ambergris unabashedly, possibly believing ambergris to boost the narcotic effect of the drug. A lusciously erotic experience involves crushing a small dried lump of ambergris (percehd on the edge of the spoon) into organic coconut oil and allowing it to macerate for months before using. In Morocco it is traditional to use ambergris with tea; how a grain of ambergris sticked  inside the teapot's cover flavors the tea by mere contact with the vapor for years along is a miracle of nature's essences. As Karen of Globetrotter Diaries says, "Ambergris to liquids is much like 3D to movies; it gives new meaning to the otherwise familiar." I prefer to call it umami for the nose, the missing link in the realm of the senses.

"But is it safe to ingest?", you might be asking yourselves. Relax. Prior to the turn of the 20th century, ambergris was used by bartenders, liquor rectifiers, and makers of cordials & syrups as an additive in many products. But ambergris is never used alone: It is always rubbed with sugar, which acts by minutely separating the particles of the material,and then married to several other aromatics. The scents best suited to this purpose are acetic and nitric ether, oil of wintergreen, oil of lemon, oil of mace and creosote. As with truffles, ambergris has to be shaved very thinkly and added to warm drinks, so as to melt and not create a sediment.

Ambergris is a substance that the wild sperm whale (Physeter macrocephalus Lin=P.catodon) regurgitates naturally; a sort of cetacean furball, clotted whale cholesterol to protect the animal's digestive track of remnants of indigested cuttlefish, squid beaks etc. [To learn all the info you need on what ambergris is and its differences with amber resin as well as its differences with Ambrox/Ambroxan refer to these herein linked articles.]

When it is fresh, ambergris has nearly no value, because its smell is extremely fecal and it has no great use for perfumery. But let it float on the ocean for some years and it gains a beautiful patina that famously chemist Gunther Ohloff described as “humid, earthy, fecal, marine, algoid, tobacco-like, sandalwood-like, sweet, animal, musky and radiant”.  It's difficult to improve on his words, but to me ambergris is that rare thing; an animalic essence that can be used even neat: its oily, marine, skin-friendly aura is intimate, but subtle, warming on the skin with an earthy, algae-reminiscent scent of bodies after a sea dip.
Whalefishers of the 18th and 19th century knew its worth. Watching "Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World", I was not surprised to come across an awe-eyed sailor dreaming of catching a whaler loot: "she'll be loaded with gold and ambergris and all the gems of Araby".

"Nor indeed can the whale possibly be otherwise than fragrant, when, as a general thing, he enjoys such high health; taking abundance of exercise; always out of doors; though, it is true, seldom in the open air. I say, that the motion of a Sperm Whale's flukes above water dispenses a perfume, as when a musk-scented lady rustles her dress in a warm parlor. What then shall I liken the Sperm Whale to for fragrance, considering his magnitude? Must it not be to that famous elephant, with jewelled tusks, and redolent with myrrh, which was led out of an Indian town to do honour to Alexander the Great?"

H.Melville's poetic associations in a whole chapter devoted to it in Moby Dick notwithstanding (with mentions of its use in Turkish cooking), the ocean and sun not only change the initially dark brown floating lumps into light greyish or even yellowish, but they also break down the basic building block, ambreine, into a quantity of products which account for the complex smell of ambergris. These lend themselves to complimenting a variety of ingredients in foods and beverages, as attested by the recipes aimed to help you cook with ambergris below.

You can buy some of the exceptional free-floating (i.e. ethically harvested) ambergris at profumo.it. (Currently I only see tincture available, but raw small lumps were available before, hopefully again)
Also available on Ambergris New Zealand. 


Recipe: Chocolat Ambré: chocolate drink laced with natural ambergris

Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin in Larousse Gastronomique: The Encyclopedia of Food, Wine and Cooking by Prosper Montagné with the collaboration of Dr. Gottschalk, 1961 English Ed.

"Chocolate is one of the most efficient restoratives.  All of those who have to work when they might be sleeping, men of wit who feel temporarily deprived of their intellectual powers, those who find the weather oppressive, time dragging, the atmosphere depressing; those who are tormented by some preoccupation which deprives them of the liberty of thought; let all such men imbibe a half-litre of chocolat ambré, using 60 to 72 grains of amber per half-kilo, and they will be amazed.  The grain, an old-fashioned measure, equals about the twentieth part of a gram, and we might add, ambre gris is meant, a greyish substance which exhales a smell analogous to musk, and not yellow amber, which is an entirely different thing.  Such chocolate no longer exists. In Méditation VI, Brillat-Savarin refers to chocolat ambré as 'the chocolate of the afflicted': 'I knew that Marshal Richelieu, of glorious memory, constantly chewed ambergris lozenges: as for myself, when I get one of those days when the weight of age makes itself felt - a painful thought - or when one feels oppressed by an unknown force, I add a knob of ambergris the size of a bean, pounded with sugar, to a strong cup of chocolate, and I always find my condition improving marvellously.  The burden of life becomes lighter, thought flows with ease and I do not suffer from insomnia, which would have been the invariable result of a cup of coffee taken for the same purpose'. Brillat-Savarin also praises the powers of ambergris in his Magistères Restaurants."
[source Ray Girvan, Technical Author,The Apothecary's Drawer.]

Recipe for Negus, a drink of Port or Sherry, sugar & spices, hot water and natural ambergris:

1 bottle of sherry (or port), 2-1/2 pints of water, juice of 1 lemon, a little of the peel rubbed off on sugar; grated nutmeg, and sugar to taste; add one drop essence of ambergris, or 10 drops of vanilla; all to be made and drunk warm.

source: Aerated Waters & How to Make Them; Together with Receipts for Non-Alcoholic Cordials & a Short Essay on Flavouringby Joseph Goold - J. Gilbert Smith, Publisher, London - 1880 - p.110

Recipe for Ambergris Wedding Punch

Take 1/2 pint of pineapple juice.
1 pint of lemon juice.
1 pint of lemon syrup.
1 pint of claret or port wine.
1/2 pound of sugar.
1/2 pint of boiling water.
6 grains of vanilla.
1 grain of ambergris.
1 pint of strong brandy.
Rub the vanilla and ambergris with the sugar in the brandy thoroughly; let it stand in a corked bottle for a few hours, shaking occasionally. Then add the lemon juice, pineapple juice and wine; filter through flannel, and lastly add the syrup.

source: The Mixicologist by C. F. Lawlor - Lawlor & Co., Publishers, Cincinnati - 1895 - p. 21

For the really adventurous or carnivores with access to good, old, rural meat, there is an English recipe for "ambergris puddings" (i.e. sausages with ambergris) from Lord Conway's Ambergris Puddings from The Queen's Closet Newly Opened (London: 1655) on this link.

And finally a scent formula, for Eau de Cologne à l'Ambergris (Ambergris Cologne Water)

21 ounces of oil of orange.
21 ounces of oil of bergamot.
2-5/8 ounces of oil of neroli.
6-9/16 ounces of oil of lavender.
3-15/16 ounces of oil of rosemary.
63 drops of oil of roses.
126 drops of oil of cloves.
200 drops of essence of ambergris.
Dissolve in 10 gallons of alcohol, 95 per cent.

Related reading on PerfumeShrine: Aromatic Cuisine: musings & recipes, Musk & Civet in Food: musk candy & civet coffee

Many thanks to Abdes Salaam of Profumo.it
Photo of Renaissance dessert with iris flower jelly and ambergris posset recreated by Bombass & Parr via Caroline's Miscellany. 
Painting of Madame de Pompadour by François-Hubert Drouais

Cooking with Essential Oils: Perfuming Food with Tuberose and Dill

One of the greatest joys of being a perfume writer and an amateur cook is combining the appreciation of scents into fields that surpass their own boundaries and leep into peripheral matter. Whenever I pick up a fresh cucumber at the open market for my preparation of tzatziki dip I lean to smell its smooth peel, often asking the seller to cut one in half in front of my very eyes so I can judge by smell; and nary does a day of food shopping goes by that I am not reminded by the aromata in front of me of ingredients in fine fragrance. The same principle applies when picking up flowers to adorn my house at the florist's, the hothouse or just while trailblaizing in the countryside; succumbing to the grace of the scent bouquet that even the simplest blossom exhibits is akin to discovering the complexity of the cosmos.

Imagine my elation when I was asked by a perfumer who has been using, procuring and even harvesting her own aromatic essences for long to test her newly-launched essences for food. For a long time I thought I was the only one to use orange blossom hydrosol for my Christmas cookies, yuzu essence to aromatize my sponge cake and peppermint drops into the big vat of Mojito cocktail served on the verandahs when entertaining in the summertime. Apparently, I was not and now many more will find it easier still.


Anya McCoy who just launched this line assures us that the essential oils used are of the highest quality and tested for tolerance in use in food: "I've been using natural essential oils and absolutes to perfume my food and drinks since 1978. I have been sourcing quality oils since 1970, so please know that the oils I offer for the Anya's Garden food and drink line are of the highest quality. These are the same aromatic oils that I use in my perfumes. [...]These oils and absolutes are GRAS - Generally Recognized as Safe by the USDA. They may also be used for creating perfumes.".



In what is thought of as "oils" she also has several things to divulge: "Essential oils are made by steam- or hydrodiffusion of plant materials, in a process called 'distillation'. The "oils" aren't necessarily oils as we think of them, meaning the fixed oils. They're often much more ethereal than that, and many are lighter than water, and will float on water. However, water can also be used to disperse them, especially when the tiny amount you'll be using is placed in water. You can experiment with seltzer water, some simple syrup and ice."

The two essences with which I played extensively were tuberose and dill, tuberose being an essence I picked myself exactly because of its challenging nature which doesn't immediately produce thoughts related to food. And yet Tuberose Absolute (Polianthus tuberosa) is a must for anyone with an interest in perfumery, but also anyone with the desire to experience the complexity of nature, red in tooth and claw! Perfumes try to approximate with Beyond Love by Kilian and Carnal Flower being perhaps the truest to realism, although a few, such as Fracas or Tubereuse Criminelle, tend to overshadow some aspects in order to highlight others; butteriness and sweetness via copious orange blossom in the Piguet classic, menthol via camphoraceous notes in the Lutens cult scent.
My thinking about experiencing this marvel of nature in consumable form went around the facets of tuberose essence itself: Being familiar with Indian tuberose absolute I well knew the intensity of its deep, intoxicating aroma with rubbery and green tonalities over the lactonic sweet and "cheesier" ones.
My mind went into the route of cordials, long cool drinks that are always a refreshing and aromatic proposition welcome on our shores, to exploit the sweeter side of tuberose, but also giving an unexpected jolt that would create the effect that juniper produces in good gin: aromatic depth and crispness. The following recipe can be a good substitute of a Kir Royale or a Spritzer if instead of water you add some brut Champagne.
I'm also starting to think of what it might do to a decent Margherita!

Recipe for Lime and Tuberose Cordial
Ingredients

• Limes
• Sugar granulated
• Anya's Garden tuberose essence
• crushed ice
• fresh spearmint for decoration
  
• optional: Champagne, brut
  

Method

• Hand-juice as many limes as you like (I like the rougher "texture" of hand-juicing)
  
• Measure the juice using a measuring jug to determine sugar ratio
  
• For every litre of juice you will need 1 kilo of granulated sugar
• Put the juice and sugar into a large pan and heat very gently over low heat
  
• Stirring continually heat till the sugar is completely dissolved
• Add one drop of tuberose essence for every litre of juice when "cooking" has finished
  
• Let it cool, then add chilled water/champagne and crushed ice and decorate with spearmint
  

À votre santé!

Dill is another aroma with which I am intimately familiar. Fresh dill is a joy; small bunches of long, stamen-like delicate "leaves" that get routinely chopped off into soups, yoghurt pastes and cheese-pies, alongside shallots and fresh spearmint, or sprinkled onto fresh sliced cucumbers themselves sprinkled with salt. They aromatize the whole kitchen with the scents of springtime.
I also adore dill in hovmästarsås, the traditional Swedish sauce that accompanies gravlax, the cured hearty salmon dish. The fresh, slightly peppery, slightly wet aroma of dill mixes with sugary mustard and is cut by the saltiness of the fish.

To play with dill essence, I used it in something I make almost every week: tzatziki dip. This garlicky, thick paste is traditionally Greek and accompanies almost every variety of charcoal-grilled meat as well as several dishes of pasta, such as the famous Kahzak and Kyrguz recipe for Tatar Böregi (which the Turkish and the Greek who borrowed it call it "manti"). It's also the meanest dip for crudites! Just remember to brush your teeth and tongue afterwards to get rid of the garlic smell.


Recipe for Tzatziki Paste with Dill essence

Ingredients

• 2 fresh and aromatic cucumbers (do NOT buy if they don't smell fresh and green)
  
• 2 large pots of fresh, super thick strained Greek yoghurt with at least 8% solid fats (Fage is the widest distrubted brand and it's very good in 10% fat content, but if you have a local Middle-Eastern deli go and ask for fresh "strained yoghurt" served and packed by weight on cellophane)
  
• Anya's Garden dill essence
• 5-8 cloves of garlic (it's best to use raw garlic than powdered, it's more authentic)
  
• salt and lemon zest to taste
• a spoonful of extra virgin olive oil
• optional: capers and black olives for decorating
  

Method

• Empty the yoghurt into a big bowl and let it sit covered with a towel. It might have a little bit of water surfacing. Throw that out with a spoon carefully. You want it to be as thick and creamy as possible.
  
• Wash the cucumbers thoroughly and shred them in an onion hand-shredder/grater roughly
  
• Add the cucumbers into the yoghurt
• Clean and slice the garlic finely, you want it to be imperceptible, add to yoghurt
  
• Put 3-4 drops of dill essence into the mix
• Add lemon zest and salt to taste
• Decorate with the capers and olives and refrigerate. The longer it sits the richer it tastes.
• When you serve, spill the extra virgin olive oil on top. It makes the colours and flavours come alive!

Καλή όρεξη!


You can purchase the aromatic essences directly off Anya's Garden site. There will be more additions in the beginning of May. Tuberose is among them.

Other bloggers are writing about this too! Check out Anne's Food, Ca Fleure Bon, Better Baking, Bois de Jasmin and Stirring the Senses.

Educational Resource:
Guide to Career Education can assist amateur cooks with finding a good mix of art and cooking classes that will help you think outside the box when it comes to your cooking creations.

Disclosure: I was sent a sample of the essential oils by the perfumer.