Profile: Mexican Oregano

The Michigan sweet corn is finally starting to come in, and I am excited to say that I bought my first few ears of the season at the farmers' market last week. There are so many reasons to be enthusiastic about the arrival of this late summer farm icon, beginning with a virtual return to the backyard garden of my childhood and perhaps ending with a fantastic recipe for corn chowder that I look forward to making (and posting) within the next few weeks. Today, though, I am most enthusiastic about the opportunity it provides me to write not about corn, but about Mexican oregano.

I first became aware of Mexican oregano a few years ago, after I received a cookbook filled with Mexican recipes, many of which, I found, called for Mexican oregano. I had never heard of Mexican oregano and wondered, "Can't I just use the Mediterranean stuff that's growing in my window box?", as I searched store after store for the elusive herb, coming up empty every time. After I finally stumbled across some Mexican oregano at a tiny (but positively heavenly) spice shop in, of all places, the quaint beachtown of Saugatuck, Michigan, I found out that the answer to that question is simply, "No!"

While it is used culinarily in similar ways as Mediterranean oregano (hence the name), the Mexican oregano plant is actually not even a member of the Origanum genus, to which most of the popular Mediterranean oregano varieties belong. While Origanum belongs to the mint family, the Mexican oregano or Lippia graveolens plant is more closely related to lemon verbena and belongs to the verbena family. And while both Mediterranean and Mexican oregano have a similar earthy, musky aroma and taste, the scent and flavor of Mexican oregano is certainly distinct.

Interestingly, I find that Mexican oregano smells sweeter, lighter, and even more floral than the more woody, tangy, and greener-scented Mediterranean oregano stored in my spice rack and growing on my front porch. Yet, in flavor, the Mexican variety tends to be bolder, spicier, and more, well, Mexican in its appeal. It can hold up to spicy foods, particularly sauces and marinades, and often bursts through in the final product, even despite the comparatively sparing quantities called for in the recipe. It's a beautiful flavor not to be missed, and though I do love it in a good pepper-based marinade, I prefer to highlight its unique taste in an even simpler preparation: Enter the fresh corn.

I love this "recipe" (I use the term loosely) for a few reasons. First, as mentioned, it's a great showcase for an interesting herb. Secondly, it's a great side dish for any meal that contains Mexican, Southwestern, or even South American flavors. Third, because carmelization is encouraged, it doesn't require a lot of attention during cooking. And if you can't find Mexican oregano at a store near you, never fear - see my note below for online resources.

Pan Toasted Corn with Mexican Oregano
(serves 4 as a side dish)

4 ears fresh corn
2 tsp olive oil
1 tsp Mexican oregano
Salt
2 pats butter

Standing one ear of the corn on end in a pie plate or shallow bowl, use a chef's knife to cut the kernels from the cob, cutting down toward the plate/bowl and rotating the cob before each cut until all of the kernels are removed. Repeat for the other three ears.

Heat the oil in a large nonstick skillet on medium heat until it flows easily when the pan is tilted. Add the corn to the pan, tossing it to partially coat the kernels with the oil, then spreading them out so as many of the corn kernels as possible are in contact with the pan. Heat for about eight minutes, stirring only three or four times, and allowing some of the kernels to brown.

Stir in the Mexican oregano and salt to taste. Cook for one more minute before adding the butter and allowing it to melt over the corn. Stir one last time, then serve.

Mexican oregano can be found online at Spice Merchants (my local source) and at Penzeys Spices. Since it is very light, an ounce should be plenty to satisfy your needs!

Profile: Plantains

I first fell in love with plantains during a trip to San Pedro Sula, Honduras. Our gorgeous hotel was in an exclusive neighborhood (notably, it was also surrounded by iron bars and well-armed guards, but nevertheless) and it served up a truly bountiful spread every morning for our early-AM meal. It was during one of those almost embarrassingly plentiful breakfasts that I had my first plantain tamale. I was immediately hooked.

Fortunately for me, plantains are available in many U.S. supermarkets. They are usually sold when they are just turning yellow, giving them a slightly dirty appearance. They are often located near the bananas, their size and lack of bunching distinguishing them from their smaller, sweeter cousins. Plantains can be eaten at any stage of ripeness - green, yellow, or even black. In fact, to use a plantain in a sweet application requires allowing it to turn almost completely black, well beyond the point where a standard supermarket banana would be considered edible. All but the most ripe plantains must be cooked to be enjoyed.

Though musa paradisiaca is, as it appears to be, a type of banana, I find that it is better to think of the plantain more like a potato. Plantains can be incorporated into sweet dishes, and they often are used that way, but only when overripe. And even then, the plantain does not reach the natural sweetness of the Cavendish bananas (also known as dessert bananas) that line U.S. supermarket shelves. Rather, plantains are very starchy and (depending upon their level of ripeness) not very sweet. When green, they are not sweet at all, but still very filling. Thus, in many cultures the plantain really does function like a potato - an inexpensive, and important, source of nutritious calories.

True to its starchy character, the plantain can be prepared in many ways. It can be boiled, steamed, fried, sauteed, grilled, even mashed. One of the most well-known preparations of plantains are tostones, which are twice-fried "patties" similar to chips. I have personally had plantains in many ways, and have gone to great lengths to enjoy them in my cooking (Most memorably in Plantain Tamales with Molasses Butter from Bobby Flay's From My Kitchen To Your Table, which were good, but well beyond my usual "keep it simple" routine!). My favorite preparation is just to saute them, though, like in Jack Bishop's Caribbean Black Beans with Sauteed Plantains from A Year in a Vegetarian Kitchen.

If you haven't already, it's well worth it to discover this dietary staple of so many tropical regions. Just remember that many a plantain novice has been disappointed when the plantain wasn't what they expected, so if you are trying plantains for the first time, try to ignore their banana resemblance as much as you possibly can!

This Tyler Florence recipe is just what I have in mind for an easy plantain preparation. One thing to note that Tyler doesn't mention: A plantain can't be peeled like a supermarket banana. Cut the plantain with the skin on, then score the skin and remove it in sections.

Tyler Florence's recipe for Caramelized Plantains "Plantanos al Caldero" can be found at foodnetwork.com

Profile: Balsamic Vinegar

I am writing about balsamic vinegar today because it would be a shame for anyone to think that the extent of balsamic vinegar ends with $4 brown acid-water on the grocery store shelf. If it did, the term "Vinegar Tasting" surely would not exist. But as it is, perfectly reasonable people are known to taste, and enjoy, balsamic vinegar straight from a spoon or even a small glass. Why? Because true balsamic vinegar is a magically sweet, tart, and complex condiment made with very specific ingredients, in a very specific place, and according to a very particular centuries-old process.

True balsamic vinegar is strictly controlled by Italian law and can only come from one of two Italian cities, Modena or Reggio Emilia. Known as Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale di Modena (or di Reggio Emilia), this vinegar is made from the juice (or must) of the white Trebbiano grape, which has been boiled down and aged in various wooden barrels for a minimum of twelve years, then has been approved by master tasters. The process produces a condiment as thick as syrup and amazingly complex - not only sweet and sour, but also containing flavors often ascribed to wine - stewed fruit, musk, and tobacco, for example. That said, there is a 'catch'. As you might guess, something requiring such an artisan (and lengthy - balsamic vinegars can be aged for 50 years or more) process isn't always easy to come by. And if you do, it's not exactly cheap.

Fortunately, something between the tradizionale and the aforementioned brown acid-water does exist. That "something", or rather somethings, are in the form of Aceto Balsamico Condimento or even Aceto Balsamico di Modena ("Industriale" Balsamic).

Condimento has been made according to the traditional process, but for the exception of one variable. Thus, it does not qualify for consortium approval, perhaps because it has not been aged for twelve years, or because it has not been aged in the proper types of wood, or even just because it was made outside the boundaries of Modena and Reggio Emilia. Condimento can still be pricey, but is considered to offer a good value because it is made in a style similar to the tradizionale, but can be obtained at perhaps half the cost.

Possessing a bit of a tricky name, Aceto Balsamico di Modena is really "cheater" balsamic, made using grape must, but possibly also red wine vinegar, sugar or a quick caramelization process, and/or wood chips. To be called balsamic at all, these need to be aged at least three years. While there is no guarantee that an Industriale will be good, many are, and it is worth one's while to seek out a decent bottle, which will be in roughly the $10 to $20 price range. Buy it, and it will become a kitchen staple, but will still last a long time.

And the $4 brown acid-water? That's imitation balsamic, most likely cider vinegar with some caramel coloring added. At that price point, it can't possible be balsamic!

Profile: Craft Beer

I’ve written quite a bit about wine in GarlicPepperParsley, attempting to simplify it and make it more accessible, in part by identifying some good under-$20 bottles. Today I’d like to discuss another beverage that has been overshadowed by the wine discussion, but is close to my heart nonetheless. Kevin and I were introduced to craft beer several years ago by friends of ours, and have never looked back! Frankly, it would be a shame for anyone who really appreciates flavor to be drinking only mass-produced light beer (think Bud Light), something akin to drinking Yellow Tail Pinot Grigio as a sole wine choice. Yet, with craft beer sales comprising less than 5% of the U.S. market volume, it’s likely that many people are doing just that! The craft beer industry was born in the mid- to late-1970s in the U.S. as a backlash against the rapid disappearance of old-world beer traditions and styles from the country, as well as in an attempt to allow smaller brewers to differentiate themselves from the “big guys”. Craft beer is beer made in comparatively small quantities by a particular brewer, often in a microbrewery, brewpub, or even at home. The brewer uses variations of the main ingredients of grain (malt), hops, yeast, and water to create interesting beer with the particular color, flavor, and consistency that he or she desires. In this way, craft beer is a lot like wine. Though each beer starts with the same basic ingredients, the way in which they are processed and combined can make the greatest difference in the final product. Just as a winemaker chooses a particular type of grape, whether or not to include the skin, and which type of oak to use (if any), so the brewer makes decisions regarding the type or processing of the grain, the amount of hops, and the variety of yeast that goes into the beer. The results can vary as much as the difference between the lightest Sauvignon Blanc and the biggest Petite Syrah, or the sweetest Riesling and the driest Bordeaux. While a German-style Hefeweizen will generally be pale in color with a fruity and spicy flavor often characterized as banana- and clove-like, an Extra Special Bitter will be amber or copper-colored with medium to medium-high bitterness as the predominant taste. Thus, beers can range from the palest gold to the darkest chocolate in color, and can incorporate as wide a range of flavors and aromas. Flavors can include chocolate, caramel, coffee, smoke, cinnamon, clove, bubblegum, banana, apple, or even kiwi, just to name a few. Styles are just as varied and include Porter, Stout, Brown Ale, Pilsner, Blonde Ale, and the ever-popular India Pale Ale, among many, many others. Lucky for us, the craft beer industry continues to grow, meaning that every year brings even more great brews to sample. With the myriad options now available, I'd encourage you to find a beer shop or brewpub and try a few, both craft brew and imported, if you haven't. It will change the way you think of beer!

Some breweries to consider (products from these breweries are generally more widely available):
Anchor Brewing Company http://www.anchorbrewing.com/
Dogfish Head Brewery http://www.dogfish.com/
Rogue Brewery http://www.rogue.com/
Sierra Nevada Brewing Company http://www.sierranevada.com/

Profile: Peppercorns

There are certain ingredients in my kitchen that I just couldn't live without. Most are deceptively simple, yet amazing in their ability to enhance, or even transform, a dish. These are my "go-to" ingredients on nights when I need to improvise a meal using only what I have on hand. Peppercorns, and particularly black peppercorns, are one such ingredient. It is easy to take pepper for granted because it's everywhere - tucked into the cupboard, rounding out the ingredient list in myriad recipes, even sitting on the kitchen table! In addition, its flavor often seems to get hidden among all of the other elements of a dish. However, I've found that using it alone (or almost alone) to season fresh ingredients adds that little bit of extra interest that can make a really simple dish work.

It may seem surprising that dried black peppercorns, white peppercorns, and green peppercorns all come from the same plant, Piper nigrum. What's more, they are all really the fruit of that plant, let ripen to different stages and processed in different ways. For both black and green peppercorns, the berries are picked while still unripe. Then, the black is allowed to dry with the skin still intact - it is this skin that shrivels and turns black, giving the black peppercorn its distinctive color. To produce the green peppercorn, the berry is merely treated to prevent its skin from turning black. Conversely, the white peppercorn is the berry with the skin removed. To accomplish this, the berries are allowed to ripen, then they are soaked and the skin is removed before the rest of the berry is dried. Ripe Piper nigrum berries are red, and red peppercorns do exist, but are not widely available and should not be confused with the "pink peppercorns" often found in peppercorn blends. These are the fruit of a different plant altogether!

Pepper gets its spicy quality from the compound piperine, and this compound, along with pepper's other aromatic qualities, can quickly evaporate once they are released. For that reason, I am a firm believer in a good pepper grinder, used as close to service as possible! So much is lost from pre-ground pepper, next to freshly ground, it doesn't even taste like the same spice. In my kitchen, the pepper grinder is always on hand, and is integral in (starting and) "finishing" many a dish. My favorite uses of pepper are very simple - a couple of turns over a green salad before serving makes the salad restaurant-worthy, combining pepper with citrus juice and olive oil produces a simple, bright marinade, and sprinkling it over potatoes or sweet onions before roasting creates great contrast. I've even used pepper to top strawberries...and in cookies! If you don't have a pepper grinder, consider investing in one now. It could change the way you cook.