Category Archives: Condiments

Avocado Sandwich Spread (and the Penultimate Sandwich)


I saw a post on Lucy’s Friendly Foods the other day, where she mentioned her avocado mayonnaise. For some reason, the idea of avocado mayonnaise wouldn’t go out of my head, then, so I had to make my own and slather it on a giant sandwich. At least, the sandwich was giant in my mind… In reality, it seemed not to be a day for bread baking (I blame the position of the moon) and so the rolls I was making didn’t turn out as tall and proud as I’d imagined. However, I still made a sandwich of reasonable proportions – and the avocado mayo was absolutely delicious.

I changed things up and made more of a spread than a mayo. I also made it on the chopping board, rather than in a food processor, blender or even bowl, and I’m really pleased with how that worked out. You see Jamie Oliver making stuff right on the chopping board a lot, so I felt quite fancy as I was working on it. This is probably the main benefit of preparing the avocado spread this way; the secondary bonus is that you don’t have any extra dishes to wash, which to me is a big deal. Washing the dishes is pretty low on my list of priorities, and these days that’s one looooooong list!

So, to the avocado spread. I will preface this by saying that I love a good guacamole, and have a go-to, memorised in my brain recipe for it (which I once wrote about here), but fancied doing something different with avocado, for a change. This was the end result:

 

  • 1 small avocado
  • juice of 1/2 small lime
  • 1/8 – 1/4 tsp dijon mustard
  • big pinch of sea salt
  • several turns of black pepper
  • splash white wine vinegar
  • dash of cold-pressed rapeseed oil (optional)
  • dash paprika or cayenne pepper (optional)

 

First, peel the avocado and roughly chop. Don’t throw the stone away.

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Add the lime juice, mustard, salt and pepper and vinegar, then MASH TO A PULP with your knife. You may also want to employ a fork. Do wear goggles lest you get mustard in your eye, in your fervent mashing state.

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When very mashed, add a drizzle of oil, if you like – avocado is so rich already you might not want it, but it does add a certain unctuousness, and if nothing else it’s nice to have a valid reason to use that word.

 

Penultimate Sandwich 008Continue mashing and mixing, with fork or knife as you prefer, until you reach your desired consistency. I preferred it with some texture remaining but Lucy has hers completely smooth – depends on preference and how long you’re willing to mash for, really. Taste the spread and add more seasoning and a tiny hint of cayenne or paprika, if you like.

Now, you will be looking at your chopping board (and possibly hands) and going ‘urgh, look, there’s avocado everywhere’. Well, firstly, wash your hands (this should be self evident). As for the chopping board, fear not! Simply scrape up all the dressing, in two or three goes, with your knife, scooping it up onto the blade horizontally and then turning the knife vertically to drop the spread into a suitable container. This means you won’t drop any round the edges of the container, and you’ll scrape up almost every last drop from the board.

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See?

To preserve any leftover spread for a day or two (this works a bit, though not perfectly), put the avocado stone in the bowl you’re storing it in, make sure it’s tightly covered, and refrigerate. The avocado will still go a bit grey but not as much as if you’d left the stone out, and the flavour is still good. Just eat with your eyes closed.

To go with this spread (or, for the spread to go with), I had envisaged The Ultimate Sandwich – ultimate for that moment of imagining, anyway. It was more or less this Dutch Crunch sandwich from last year but with added avocado, and I looked forward to it for a couple of days. Alas, when it came to making the bread, a few things went a little wrong, and while I still ended up with edible rolls, they weren’t the crackled beauties I had in mind.

James R suggested on Facebook that this might be the Penultimate Sandwich, which was ominous but stuck in my head, nonetheless…

I layered up pea shoots, tomato, strong Campbeltown cheddar, turkey breast and avocado spread on my servicable-if-not-perfect white roll, and it was almost everything I’d been dreaming of. It’s always disappointing when something doesn’t turn out as you hope – especially when you’ve invested a lot of time in it – but it’s best to appreciate it for itself, really.

 

After all, it might be the second last sandwich you ever eat.

 

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Homemade Vanilla Essence


Alright, this is hardly a post at all – but you know, I don’t want to rely *too* heavily on reposting from the Rock Salt archives, so this seemed like a nice solution. Fresh content without spending a long while uploading photos or trying (and perhaps failing) to think of interesting words to say about them.

Vanilla essence is one of those things that can be quite divisive among bakers. I think we all know that you should really use the real stuff – vanilla extract, from one of those sturdy-looking and expensive bottles. Failing that, you should buy vanilla beans and scrape the seeds in to whatever you’re making – these are expensive, too. So, with expense in mind, I will admit to using generic, own-brand vanilla extract from whatever supermarket I’m in when I need the stuff.

There, I said it.

However, more recently I’ve been brewing up my own vanilla essence, and it’s painfully simple to do. No excuses now, folks. Start with one vanilla pod, and carefully split it open without spilling the seeds everywhere (if you can). Now, place it in a nice wee bottle and fill with vodka. Leave to develop for at least a week and BAM – you’ve got vanilla essence, ready to be used and topped up again.

 

 

I used a 50ml bottle, which had formerly held violet liqueur, and topped it up with Bison Grass vodka, only because that’s what I had on top of my fridge, where I keep the booze. This vodka has quite a strong flavour of its own, which I happen to like, but you can use a plainer vodka if you prefer.

 

 

 

The colour starts to develop quite fast, but the flavour takes a little longer.

 

 

 

I have no idea what that red thing is in the background of this photo. My kitchen is a bit of a riot.

After the first time I used my new vanilla essence, I topped the bottle up with bourbon instead of vodka. This adds a lovely dimension to the essence, in colour as well as flavour. ‘Bourbon vanilla’ is actually the name of one of the most common kinds of vanilla you can buy, and the name prompted me to think that putting actual bourbon in my essence would be a good idea. It was. It really, really was. I reckon you could also try a bit of brandy, if you are into brandy. Because you use the essence in small amounts, the booze only adds a subtle flavour to the whole recipe, but I do believe that adding the bourbon has added sweetness and smokiness to the flavour of the essence, and therefore to the flavour of my vanilla flavoured baked goods.

 

This one vanilla pod (which was a Foodie Penpals gift) has lasted for months now, with top-ups every time I use it. So far it’s still giving off a vanilla flavour and scent, though my last load of baking did completely empty the bottle so I’ve started from scratch again. My advice is to top the bottle up every time you use any, and maybe to use a bigger bottle… This is a great way to make a vanilla pod last longer and get your money’s worth, without resorting to the synthetic and inferior flavourings you can so easily buy.

I won’t disown anyone for using them – and I do have a bottle in the cupboard for those times when the homemade stuff has run out or is infusing – but there is another way.

Join us.

 


Boozeberry Jam


Do you remember when I made blueberry gin cordial? And took it to a music festival and fell in a ditch? Well, what do you think became of the blueberries once they were fished out of the gin (and I was fished out of the ditch)? I made them into jam, of course!

Now, one of the first rules of booze is this: if you have a drink that contains pieces of fruit, don’t eat the fruit. Never eat the fruit. That innocent fruit has been soaking up more booze than a Scot at a wedding (I speak from personal experience), and is now utterly lethal. If you eat that fruit, it’s like having a tequila slammer you can chew. Never, ever eat the fruit.

That said, I couldn’t possibly have thrown these gorgeous, boozy blueberries in the bin. Look at them – so plump and purple. Dangerous little jewels, they were, and all the more dangerous for looking so tempting. They smelled glorious, too – sweet and full of juniper. It took absolutely no stretch of the imagination to see that they would be the perfect jam fodder. They were also puggled (or, if you have a less imaginative language than Scots on your side, drunk) enough to keep in that jar, in the fridge, for a couple of weeks without any further preserving. I did think I heard some singing from them but I may have been imagining it.

 

 

I added some fresh, non-boozy blueberries to them, to boost the amount of end product and to temper the alcohol levels. I put all the berries in a pot with a generous measure of that old favourite, jam sugar, and simmered until the berries had started to burst and release lots of dark indigo juice. Once this had happened, I poured the contents of the pot into jug and blitzed with a stick blender until mostly smooth, with occasional unexploded blueberries. I returned to the pot and simmered until thick and very syrupy, then poured into a clean jar to cool down.

I would like to give you the proper recipe for the jam, but I’ve had ‘lost envelope syndrome’ again and don’t know exactly what I put in there… However, here is my best guess to make one 500ml jar:

  • 450g blueberries from gin cordial
  • 150g fresh blueberries
  • 1 tbsp blueberry gin cordial (or plain gin, or water)
  • 1 cup jam sugar

Put all the ingredients in a large pot over a medium heat and cook, stirring often, until greatly reduced and very liquid, about ten minutes.

 

 

 

 

Pour the contents of the pot into a tall, glass jug (do *not* use a plastic one) and blend with stick blender – or place in a blender jug and process, but check what your blender’s maximum temperature capacity is.

Return to medium heat and simmer, stirring infrequently, for another ten minutes, until thickened and jammy, Remember that it will thicken as it cools. Pour into a glass jar to cool before storing in the fridge.

The resulting jam combines the sweet-tart flavour of blueberries with the sugary taste of a cordial, plus the mildly astringant, floral fragrance of a good gin. It’s unlike any mass-produced jam or marmalade, and it’s probably not for kids… Even though you do cook out the alcohol, I can’t help but feel that some remains in the end result. Toast and jam for breakfast might be ill-advised with this particular jam.

 

 

In light of the development of this recipe, I will revise my wisdom about boozy fruit thusly:

Never eat the fruit, unless you turn it into jam first. And even then, don’t eat it for breakfast.

 

 


Korean Pickled Jalapenos


A very short post today, to round off a week that has been dedicated to chilis in various guises. This is a recipe I tested for Leite’s Culinaria a couple of months ago, and I was pleased to see it had made its way to the site. The author of this recipe tells us that these pickled chilis are an example of banchan, which is the name for the small side dishes of a Korean meal. Banchan includes other pickled vegetables, stir fried dishes, soup dishes – there is a great variety. I will admit to not using these little beauties on absolutely everything, as so many of my fellow testers have been, but they have made an excellent snack and they featured in my not-proper banderillos, along with Silver and Green olives and anchovies. They are so easy to put together, and a good way to prolong the life  of any particularly fine chilis you see on your travels.

 

 

 

The recipe suggests keeping them for two weeks. Truth? Mine have been in the fridge for a good couple of months, and they’re fine. We all make out own decisions on food safety, and the risk factor here is pretty low from where I’m standing. I am considering trying to seal some of them up properly, but I think I’d have to heat them and this might make them soggy, whereas now they’re lovely and crunchy.

The pickling liquid is a mix of soy, vinegar, sugar, citrus juice and that traditional Korean ingredient, Sprite. Yes, that’s right, the fizzy drink. I would be interested to try out the recipe without sprite, just using more fresh citrus and sugar, but you can’t argue with the novelty value. If you’re already a Sprite drinker, there’s no great hardship in sparing a wee drop of it for these pickles – if you’re not, you could try out an alternative version, I’d love to her how it went!

If you’re not into chili, maybe this isn’t the recipe for you – though you can, of course, de-seed them before pickling. The soy, garlic, sugar and Sprite (yup) make a really tangy marinade and impart tons of flavour to the chili rings. You can serve them on sandwiches or burgers, in omelettes or scrambled eggs, as a side dish with rice, threaded onto skewers with other savoury items, in stir fries – they truly are a multi-purpose pickle.

 

You can find the recipe here.


Chili and Tamarillo Jam


I made this jam to send to my Foodie Penpal last month, Stacey. She told me she loved sweet chili, and I’d seen a few jars of chili jam doing the rounds lately, so I thought I’d try my hand. As I shopped for the ingredients, I came across some tamarillos, which is a fruit I’ve been eyeing up but not buying for a while now. The info in the shop said that they were tart and a little bitter, and good for chutnies. They sounded like just the thing to put in a lovely, sticky, sweet and hot jam, so I bought a couple.

Here is what tamarillos look like:

 

 

 

 

You can tell from the last photo that these ones were very ripe; probably on the edge of usability, in honesty. The skin was a little wrinkled and the fruit was very soft when I picked it up, like a very ripe tomato. In fact, tamarillos are related to tomatoes – third cousins or something. They’re part of the nightshade family (a family you wouldn’t want to go to Sunday dinner with), which includes potatoes, tomatillos, aubergines and tobacco as well as deadly nightshade and the delightfully eldritch Mandragora. Thus ends our botany lesson.
This is what they look like inside:

 

 

 

Rather attractive, don’t you think?

 

So, now that we have learned all about tamarillos (except how to pronounce it, that I’m still not sure about), let us learn about chili and tamarillo jam. I wanted it to have a good strong spicy flavour, but also to be sweet. also I wanted a smooth finish with flecks of chili seed throughout, which I’m glad to report happened naturally. I did some research of other recipes available online, most of which used either tomatoes or peppers as the base ingredient. I decided to supplement the tamarillos with some pointed red peppers, which are usually very crunchy and sweet, instead of normal bell peppers, which can be a bit on the uninteresting side and can disappear into foamy red water when you puree them.

Here is the recipe for Chili and Tamarillo Jam – makes about 250ml:

 

  • 2 ripe tamarillos
  • 2 pointed red peppers
  • 2 cloves of pickled garlic
  • 2 scotch bonnet chilis
  • 1 cup of jam sugar
  • 2 star anise

I started by peeling the tamarillos – this was easy, the ripe flesh came away from the skin no problem, and fell apart in my hands. I chopped up the biggest chunks, and left the seeds in the mix. I also hopped and de-seeded the peppers, and roughly chopped the chilis, also leaving the seeds of these in place.

 

I put all the prepared fruits and the quickly sliced garlic into a pot over a medium high heat, then tipped over the sugar. Jam sugar, otherwise known as preserving sugar, contains pectin to bind your jam together. You can buy pectin separately, too, and that is something I will do some research on. I don’t have a special preserving pan, but I manage to get reasonable results without it. Use a bigger pan that you think you need, because this will help to draw off the water from the fruit and thicken your jam. Plus it’s always good to have some splash room.

I stirred everything together and let it come up to a boil. The fruit broke down very quickly, and after five minutes I had a kind of fruity soup bubbling in the pot. I added the star anise to the soup, and let it simmer briskly for ten minutes.

 

 


After the ten minutes, it was starting to look more like jam: syrupy, with bubbles forming and holding on the surface. I poured it out of the pot into a tall glass jug, and removed the star anise with a spoon, ready to be added back in again later. Then I used a stick blender to reduce everything to a smooth paste, complete with decorative chili seeds. I returned this to the pot, with the star anise, and bubbled for a further ten minutes, stirring occasionally to stop it from burning.

 

 

Now the surface of the jam started to look dry and form a skin. This was unexpected, and I decided this meant it was ready, and removed it from the heat. I removed the star anise and let it cool at room temperature.

This jam is soft set, and if you wanted a thicker jam you could add more pectin or boil for longer after pureeing. At first I was disappointed and considered re-processing it to give a more firm result, but on inspection I decided that it would be fine as it was – easy to spread, easy to add into recipes by the spoonful, but not so soft that it would run off a cracker if you happened to want to try some of the jam with cheese. Which you should, by the way.

 


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