Slide Ridge Honey Vinegar and CaCysir Honey Wine

Yes, I live in Utah, the Beehive State. You’d think that our state symbol, the beehive, might have something to do with honey, but no. It’s all about early pioneer industry. The thing is, Utah is not really a major player in honey production – not by a long shot.

That’s not to say we don’t have some exceptional honey here in the Beehive State. In fact, we may be home to some of the finest raw honey produced anywhere if you consider Slide Ridge Honey of Mendon, Utah. It's a small family operation that has recently expanded to offer a brilliant Honey Wine Vinegar and a just-released CaCysir Honey Wine. (pronounced ka--SIGH-sir - the Ca is for Cache Valley, where Slide Ridge resides. Cysir is a unique spelling for cyser, apple and honey wine)

Last week I was lucky enough to be a part of a farm tour hosted by Talisker and its executive chef, John Murcko. We covered more than 300 miles visiting some of northern Utah’s purveyors of local goods. Along the way, Slide Ridge Honey master Martin James and his family hosted us for their “daily staff lunch,” a magical homemade interlude served next to a garden, under shade trees just a stone’s throw from pallets of honey and vats of soon-to-be  honey wine.

They dished up soft fresh rolls with a silky, runny honey butter, a salad with Slide Ridge Honey Vinegar dressing and then plates of pot roast, carrots and mashed potatoes. And for dessert, poached pears, homemade salted caramel ice cream and glasses of viscous, amber Slide Ridge CaCysir Honey Wine, just released.  Look at those gorgeous legs.

CaCysir is a 100% local blend of juices from seven select apple varieties, perfectly clean honey, and a hint of grapes. At 13.65% alcohol, it also has a crisp acidity. To me, it evokes a bit of tart tatin rather than basic apple pie - quite extraordinary. Here’s what they say on the label:

The wine, priced just under $25, has just been released in a few of Utah’s state run liquor stores, including: Snow Creek (Park City); Logan, Ogden-Wall St.; Holladay; Springville; and Hurricane. BUT, I encourage you to ask for – OK, demand it? -- it at every big state wine and liquor store you visit – if this is your sort of delight. The supply is not huge, but the demand ought to be. 

As for condiments, Slide Ridge’s Honey Wine Vinegar is more widely available. A balance of sweet and tang, it is, of course, great as salad dressing but also consider tossing a tablespoon over a bowl of oven-roasted, caramelized Brussels sprouts or  deglazing a pan after browning pork chops, or head to The Farm or Bistro at Canyons and find out what magic Talisker chefs are creating with it this summer. 

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Spicy Balsamic Blueberry Chutney Recipe

I’m a sucker for single-subject cookbooks. Writers obsessed with a subject are the best because, well, they are obsessed. They leave no stone unturned, no use of an ingredient unexplored. They have license to travel to the far reaches of the world in search of the source, to explore history, to find the best.

The Balsamic Vinegar Cookbook  (1996, Collins) by Meesha Halm is a case in point – a perfect one for condiment lovers. Like so many of my books, it’s out of print, but there seem to be plenty of used copies available online.

This pretty little book came out a couple of decades after the “discovery” of balsamic vinegar in the U.S. in the 1970s. You may know the story: Treasured, time-honored authentic Italian condiment becomes ubiquitous American condiment – often bastardized and cheapened, generally drizzled over fresh mozzarella, pizzas and salads everywhere. But there’s a lot more to cooking with a decent, affordable balsamic. Whether your tastes run to gazpacho, braised broccoli rape or savory Mediterranean stew, this book dishes up the recipes, including a great section on condiments, including chutney.

That was Then

A lot of us got very tired of the balsamic vinegar craze. We wanted the good stuff, but, back then could only afford the grocery store version, often called “Balsamic Vinegar of Modena” – a sorry blend of coloring and thickeners – and maybe a little wine vinegar but no actual grape must –the key ingredient in traditional balsamic. These blends are mass-produced, both in Italy and in the U.S.

But as the balsamic love continued, more American and Italian producers began making artisan versions that, while far from the authentic balsamic, are excellent for more everyday uses. Today, there are plenty of fine, affordable options out there. Bottom line, when buying balsamic vinegar priced around $25 - $35 or so, read the label carefully and look for grape must in the ingredient list, along with an indication of age.

If you’ve been lucky enough to taste the occasional drop of the real thing – aged aceto balsamico tradizionale di Modena, and aceto balsamico tradizionale di Reggio Emilia, you know that at its finest, it can taste of fine old port, fig and vanilla, toffee, caramel and chocolate, resinous wood and herbs.  So complex and sensually exciting, it is often sipped from a tiny cup, all by itself. (If you’re in Salt Lake City, Liberty Heights Fresh has a whole shelf dedicated to such fine vinegars and offers some for tasting – just ask.)

 Good Compromise for Cooking

If you can afford the real thing, you’ll probably want to enjoy it on its own or with a minimum of other ingredients. But if you want to spend less than $10 on balsamic vinegar for cooking, salad dressings, or drizzling on sandwiches, Antica Italia Balsamic Vinegar is a good bet. It is made with grape must and aged in chestnut barrels, which is pretty amazing for the price. At Caupto's Deli in Salt Lake City, it's the vinegar of choice for some fine sandwiches. 

Here are two things, beyond salad dressings, that I like to do with a less expensive, but non-industrial balsamic vinegar. One so simple it’s a little embarrassing, the other requiring a little time.

1. Pour about a cup of less expensive balsamic vinegar, such as Antica, into a non-reactive saucepan, warm slowly over low heat and let it reduce down to a syrupy consistency. Drizzle over grilled meats or fish, on a fresh pear, walnut and mache salad, or over a platter of sliced ripe figs and some aged Parmigiano Reggiano.  That last treatment is a classic for the very fine balsamic vinegars, as well.

2. Make Blueberry Chutney

Adapted from The Balsamic Vinegar Cookbook, this gorgeous take on chutney is spiced with jalapeno. The recipe called for frozen or fresh berries, but I’ve found that the frozen didn’t set as well. Super with grilled lamb or pork, or whatever strikes your fancy.

Makes 2 cups

2          cups fresh blueberries

2          cups golden raisins

¾         cup firmly packed light brown sugar

½        cup balsamic vinegar

½        cup finely chopped crystallized ginger

1/3      cup finely chopped yellow or white onion

1          jalapeno pepper, seeded and finely chopped

1          clove garlic, crushed through a press

            grated zest of one large lemon

1          cinnamon stick

¼         teaspoon ground cloves

Combine all ingredients in a medium, heavy-bottomed, nonreactive saucepan.  Bring to a boil over high heat, stirring often to avoid scorching. Reduce heat to low and simmer, stirring occasionally, until very thick, 15 to 20 minutes. Cool completely.

The chutney can be prepared up to one week ahead, covered tightly and refrigerated.  For longer storage of up to 3 months, transfer the hot chutney to sterilized canning jars, cool completely, and store in refrigerator.

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For a thorough history and discussion of balsamic vinegars and some unbiased recommendations, visit The Nibble.com and just type in balsamic vinegar for access to a lengthy 3-part series. 

Not Your Mama’s Kimchi Paste at Zy Restaurant in Salt Lake City

Funny how you can experience a splendid multi-course meal with all its nuances and textures and then end up rhapsodizing about the tiniest dab of a condiment as the pinnacle of that meal. Or maybe it’s just me.

That’s exactly how I feel about the mere dabs of crimson kimchi puree chef Matt Lake and his crew developed for a seared tuna appetizer on Zy’s latest menu. 


The dish consists of a few medallions of delicate seared tuna and a small stack of blue crab set atop a pool of silky green chili tofu puree. Drizzled over all is a hint of lemon syrup. To the sides, the kimchi paste, or puree, adds its come-hither, deep red color. With one little taste, it delivers a spicy, tangy mélange of flavor that resonates as it makes you wonder just what’s going on here. Altogether, these ingredients make   brilliant music together. I could have eaten that appetizer twice, right then and there. Forget the cabbage that traditionally completes Korean kimchi. In this instance, the spicy paste is all you want or need. 

Long after our dinner at Zy, the impression of this truly original small plate presentation lingered. I had to have the recipe. Matt kindly shared it -- and a little background about how the idea evolved in his kitchen:  “One of my line cooks wanted to play with kimchi, so we were making a few variations. But when I tasted this paste by itself, I thought it was pretty cool. So we refined it a little. I then thought of the tuna plate. We worked on the composed dish, building it around this paste. I thought it would be interesting play off the tuna and the green chili tofu for the brightness, and the crab to help enrich the tuna.”  Yep. It worked.

And, restaurant manager Miles Broadhead’s suggestion that we pair the tuna appetizer with a glass of the floral Boutari Moschofilero, a lovely Greek white wine, was spot on.

Zy’s Kimchi Paste

Chef Matthew Lake recommends Assi brand chili flakes. I found this consumer-sized bag at the Oriental Food Market at 667 South 700 East in Salt Lake for about $4. At home, you might just enjoy this brilliant paste with your own sushi grade tuna, or as a counterpoint to some fresh crab, or both.

¼  cup coarse Korean chili flakes

2   cloves garlic

¼  small yellow onion

½  unripe pear

¼  Fuji apple

½  cup rice vinegar

Salt to taste

Combine all ingredients in a blender and puree until smooth. Season with salt to taste, place in an airtight container and refrigerate overnight to allow flavors to develop.

Matt shared the recipe for the entire dish, but I’m just posting the paste. If you want the full recipe, including the green chili tofu puree and lemon syrup, I’d be happy to share it. Just leave a comment with your email address.  

Cookbooks and Condiments

I’ve been collecting cookbooks for a long, long time. I read them in bed, on vacation, and usually, when I cook. They’re falling off of shelves, stacked on tables and the floor, and occasionally making themselves more useful by serving other purposes.

Photographer John McCarthy's solution
to being too tall for his monitor.

I’ve got big coffee table books and tiny tomes. Out-of-print and just-off-the-press. Some with a sprinkling of pen and ink drawings, some with photography so graphic and bold it's akin to food porn. Speaking of salacious photos, many moons ago I wrote the lengthy text for this lushly photographed, oversized cookbook with recipes by John Phillip Carroll. 

We had to fight the publishers to get our names on the cover of the book since it was ‘work for hire.’ But we prevailed and it turned out to be one of the most popular of the Beautiful series. Now I see it’s out of print, with "new" copies going for some pretty pennies on Amazon. Fortunately, you can also pick it up for a song. I suspect the "new" price has skyrocketed  because few publishers can afford to do this kind of photography any more. Plus, it is a terrific book. John is a brilliant, precise recipe developer and cook – as humble as he is talented. It takes him a while to get around to telling you that he was a protege of James Beard, Marion Cunningham, Flo Braker, and so many other baking luminaries -- and that he has gone on to write all kinds of award-winning books. Working with him was one of the highlights of my career. If you can find a used copy of our book, get it. And don’t be afraid to take it into the kitchen and let the splatters fall where they may. 

The book covers 12 regions of the state and ties its culinary history to the geography and the progression through Spanish ranchos and missions to the Gold Rush, the advent of transcontinental trains, the backyard barbecue craze, and on to the debut of Chez Panisse. Researching and writing the 20,000 word text (I know! Insane.) was one of the most rewarding jobs I ever had. 

As you might figure, the chapter on Condiments and Preserves was among my favorites. There are pickled peaches, grape and rhubarb conserve, honey and red wine figs and mushroom relish. Flavored vinegars, lots of jams and marmalades, too. And that just skims the surface. Here's one of the easier recipes. It takes a while, but most of that is non-active time. 

Red Pepper Marmalade 

from California the Beautiful Cookbook

This so good it will surprise you. Cardinal red and quite sweet, pepper marmalade is good with cold sliced beef and pork and also as a spread for crackers, with a soft goat cheese. This recipe yields a manageable amount that can be stored in the refrigerator for up to several weeks, so you do not have to fuss with sterilized jars and water bath processing.

2-1/2 lbs. red bell peppers (capsicums)

1  tablespoon salt

1  cup cider vinegar

2  cups sugar

Stem and seed the peppers and put them through the coarse blade of a grinder, or chop them coarsely in a food processor (take care not to puree them). Toss with the salt and let them stand for 2 hours.

Drain and discard any accumulated juices and combine the peppers in a saucepan with the vinegar and sugar. Bring to a boil, then reduce the heat and simmer for 1 hour, stirring now and then.

Let the marmalade cool to room temperature, then store, tightly covered in the refrigerator.

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Recipe for Mosiah Sauce from Faustina Restaurant in Salt Lake City

Mosiah. The name dances softly on the tongue. And guess what? So does Mosiah sauce, a creamy avocado condiment with the rush of fresh cilantro and a kick of lime. At Salt Lake City’s Faustina restaurant, Mosiah Sauce is the namesake of sauté chef, Mosiah Guerrero. 

According to Billy Sotelo, the restaurant’s executive chef, it landed on the regular menu as a result of a “family meal” -- a wonderful restaurant tradition in which various staff members cook for the crew, before or after a shift. “When it was Mosiah’s turn to make a quick breakfast family meal, he made capachas  [Venezuelan street food -- a corn pancake served with soft mozzarella-like cheese] and served them with a sauce that was a surprise to my palate and instantly sparked an idea for brunch,” Sotelo told me. Good call, Billy.

Like all great condiments and sauces, Mosiah is a game changer. Sotelo serves the pale green sauce with his Black Forest ham and eggs, an egg and puff pastry brunch entrée. This welcome change from traditional eggs Benedict (as is the Faustina Benedict made with polenta and Italian sausage) is a veritable pillow of goodness, with melting jarlsburg cheese oozing out from beneath a runny-yolk (preferably, in my opinion) egg. The sauce also shows up with the bacon and egg cheeseburger. 

Mosiah and Billy kindly shared their recipe. I’ll share this: You can also spread it in or over quesadillas, spicy grilled shrimp, and on eggs any way. It also makes a great condiment for chicken or lamb satays.  And I have no doubt you can find some other excellent ways to consume this simple pleasure.

Meanwhile, dining at Faustina is a pleasure at any meal – weekend brunch, lunch, or dinner. A modern neighborhood restaurant with some big-city pizazz, it also has a great little patio. 

Mosiah Sauce

1 cup Sour Cream

1 Clove garlic

½ Red Onion

½ Red Bell Pepper 

½ Yellow Bell Pepper

½ Jalapeno Pepper

1 Avocado

1 cup Cilantro

1 lime - Juiced

Salt to taste

Directions

Combine all ingredients

Puree until smooth in blender

Adjust flavors with salt and lime juice


From time to time I'll be sharing notes on house-made condiments from favorite restaurants. If you have one, let me know.

Anchovy Paste and Recipe for Anchovy Butter

As far as I’m concerned, anchovy paste exists so that I can make anchovy butter. It’s practically all I do with tubes of the purple-y stuff in toothpaste-style tubes.  Though, of course, there’s a whole world of anchovy paste-friendly ideas out there. You can even just eat it straight. But it's better in butter. 


Thank You, Julia

I know, it was a few years ago, but from the moment Meryl Streep stepped out into the Parisian sunshine as Julia Child in the film Julie and Julia, you knew she was channeling the legend herself and relishing every last bite. Thank goodness.  I admit I was worried we might be subjected to a caricature, but happily I was wrong. With each gesture, sigh and flip of the whisk, Streep showed us that, deep in her big, beautiful bones, Julia knew that food matters.  

Mastering the Art of French Cooking, her first cookbook, was born in Paris and published in America in 1961. Beautifully detailed, far from politically correct, and blissfully unconcerned with calories and fat, it still stands as a masterpiece. And the more we learn about Julia, the more we love the woman who had the most wonderful love affair with her husband and with the art of cooking. She was a force to reckon with but she also remained humble, all her life. I recall sitting in a food writing seminar in San Francisco, more than 25 years ago, and guess who sat right behind me. Actually taking notes! As if she had anything to learn, I thought. Then I came to my senses. One of the most beautiful aspects of studying food and wine is that no one can ever know it all.. We are all always still learning – that’s the beauty of it. 

Butter, of course, played a starring role in Julia's life —in her books, on her classic television shows, and in the movie.  As she always said, “You can never have too much butter…” 

So I leave you with one of her simpler recipes—a  heady anchovy butter. She advises serving it over broiled fish, adding to egg fillings, sandwiches, and sauces. You can also just slather it on toasted baguette slices and enjoy with glass of chilled Champagne and a copy of her dreamy memoir, My Life In France.

Julia Child’s Beurre d’Anchois:

One-half cup butter, 2 T mashed canned anchovies or 1 T anchovy paste; pepper, lemon juice to taste; optional 1 to 2 T minced parsley or mixed green herbs. Cream the butter well. A half teaspoon at a time, beat in the anchovies or anchovies paste. Season to taste with pepper, drops of lemon juice, and optional herbs.  Bon appétit!


Lots more on anchovies and a link to Bonchovie (why didn't I think of that?!) in NYC.

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Preserved Lemons

Hello, bright yellow orbs of amplified flavor.

The time-honored process of cutting and packing fresh lemons into a jar with salt and fresh lemon juice and letting them mellow is an ingenious technique perfected centuries ago.But I’ve found that a lot of people aren’t quite sure what to make of them. So, here are the basics:

A key ingredient and condiment in Indian and North African cooking for centuries, the intense flavor of preserved lemons lends itself to all kinds of dishes and drinks. Their texture is soft and pliable, with the taste of lemon heightened by the salt, yet softened by the gentle pickling process.

Mainly, the peel of a preserved lemon is the star, but the flesh and the brine are also good in various incarnations (dirty martinis, anyone?). Some people rinse them before using, some don’t. It depends on how much salt you like. I think it’s best to just take a small bite first. If you like it, leave it as is. If not, rinse and pat dry.

Since discovering these lovely morsels, I’ve always tried to make my own so I could call on them at a moment’s notice. But, I’ve been slacking and found myself searching for some commercially packed lemons to meet an immediate craving. Happily, it wasn’t that hard to track them down.

Les Moulins Mahjoub lemons beckoned from a display shelf the second I walked into Liberty Heights Fresh, a small but epic specialty foods store in Salt Lake City. They’re also available at Williams Sonoma and at any number of food outlets around the world. I liked the small size and the addition of a crimson pepper in this jar. The pepper didn’t affect the flavor all that much, but visually, it’s a great flourish.

You can do all kinds of things with preserved lemon peel:

• Chop and sauté with broccoli raab or any vegetable you think could benefit from a bit of salty lemon – carrots to squash.  
• Serve slivered peel alongside smoked salmon or trout and capers.
• Chop and toss with cooked, chopped Swiss chard, orzo drizzled with olive oil, and freshly ground black pepper, all to taste.
• Finely chop with parsley and shallot and blend into soft butter to melt atop cooked fish.
• Stuff slivers under chicken skin with garlic, rosemary and thyme before roasting.
• Season couscous, rice, soups and stews.
• Chop fine and swirl into mayonnaise for dipping artichokes.
• Drop a wedge into a Bloody Mary or a sliver with some brine into an icy martini. Drink, then gobble up the preserved lemon as you would an olive.
• If you’re feeling adventurous, or if you already know the joys of a drizzle of olive oil and salt on vanilla gelato, try substituting a sprinkle of chopped preserved lemon. 
• And don’t forget to eat some right out of the jar.

Preserved Lemons With Shallots and Garlic

Here’s a quick and easy recipe my friend Lesley shared by way of New York chef Tom Colicchio, a chef who seems to have a penchant for citrus and therefore, a chef after my own heart. If you have organic lemons, you can skip step one.

With the addition of shallots and garlic, this version of preserved lemons takes on a sort of ‘relish’ quality, which is delicious.

12        lemons

5          shallots, peeled and minced

6          garlic cloves, peeled and chopped

2/3      cup kosher salt

1/3      cup sugar

            Extra virgin olive oil

Plunge the lemons into boiling water to soften the outer layer of wax. Drain, rinse and wipe  off the waxy reside. Dry the lemons.

Slice lemons very thin; discard ends and seeds.

Combine the shallots with the garlic. Mix the salt with the sugar. Arrange a layer of lemon slices in the bottom of a medium ceramic or glass- lidded container. Sprinkle the lemons first with some of the shallot mixture, then with a little of the salt mixture. Repeat, until the final lemon slices are toped with the last of the salt and the shallot mixture. Cover the container and refrigerate for 3 days. Pack into jars, cover with olive oil and store in refrigerator for up to a month.  (And don’t forget to use that lemony olive oil in your favorite salad dressings.)

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