Fresh Mint Liqueur - From My Most Favorite Cookbook!

I reserve the last post of the year for one of my most favorite recipes.  This time I want to profile one of my most favorite cookbooks.  I realized while making one of its recipes that I have used it regularly for more than 20 years and have never been disappointed.  I've shared it with friends, talked about it with others, and tried a variety of its recipes.  That makes it long overdue for highlighting on my blog.

The book is Classic Liqueurs, The Art of Making and Cooking with Liqueurs by Cheryl Long and Heather Kibbey.  I came across it one day while traveling:  I needed a break from driving and saw a large tent sale of some kind in a parking lot.  What I discovered was a used book sale which was, of course, heaven!  This book just asked to go home with me, and I am so glad it did.

ISBN 0-914667-11-4

Mine is the 1990 edition, and I know there have been other editions since then.  The description on the back cover says it all:

The books tells, simply and exactly, how to make the world's most famous liqueurs as well as exquisite fruit liqueurs in the home kitchen. ... Their easy and natural approach results in high-quality liqueurs.

The chapters include the basics of liqueur making, making fruit liqueurs, and making non-fruit liqueurs, serving and mixing liqueurs, and cooking with liqueurs.  The authors' backgrounds include being a food consultant, an editor of restaurant magazines, teachers of cooking classes, and a food columnist. 

A liqueur consists of three basic ingredients:  alcohol, sugar, and flavoring.  (Although they list "alcohol, water, and flavorings" because they discuss how water quality varies and can influence the liqueur's final result.  Sugar is important, so I include it.)  The alcohols that I've used are vodka and brandy, but you can use other types like pure grain alcohol, cognac, whiskey, scotch, and rum.  

The flavorings vary between fresh and dried fruits, fruit peels, seeds, herbs, and spices.  They recommend other ingredients to adjust the body and smoothness of the liqueur, none of which I have ever used.  

Something you have to know about making liqueurs:  they require a lot of patience.  Quite often they are quick and easy to assemble (like the recipe I describe below) but then you have to wait, often for weeks, while the flavors infuse into the liquid.  After that, you have to wait for months for the liqueur to age.  Planning ahead if you are considering liqueurs as gifts is crucial.  

But oh, it is worth it.  Aging brings a smoothness to the flavor and the mouthfeel.  The taste sensations go from "good" to "sublime."  And while the authors mention that most recipes reach their peak flavor after a year of aging and hold that for up to three years, I have tried my liqueurs after they aged for a decade or more and still found them to be wonderful.  

One aspect of liqueur making that I love as compared to making wine or beer is how little space and equipment you need.  Long and Kibbey's recipes make small batches (which are easily doubled), so I have a few repurposed glass jars which easily tuck onto a shelf in a cupboard to be ignored while the required infusing and aging times are passing.  I have some cloth bags that I use for filtering and some metal mesh sieves that are in my kitchen for other purposes.  The items that take up the most space are the bottles needed for gift-giving.  I noticed I tend to hoard these, but still they don't take up much room in my storage areas.  I suppose if I wanted to make a lot of liqueurs at once I might be pressed for space, but it has never been an issue.  

The only complaint I have had with making small batches is that if a liqueur turns out to be quite exquisite, you only have a small amount of it.  Of course, that makes it even more precious!

The overall concept of liqueur making is simple:  infuse the flavors into the water and alcohol liquid (sometimes sugar is added at this time and sometimes later), strain out the solids, and finally, let the mixture age.  I recommend putting notes into a calendar to remind you when to check on them and move to the next stage.  I also put notes on the container, like the name and the starting/ending dates -- one friend writes the entire recipe she used as part of her container notes, which I think is an excellent idea.  The cupboard should be one that is dark, cool, and out of the way.

Once you understand these basics and have tried some recipes, you can confidently try your own combinations.  They didn't always turn out how I envisioned them, but they have always produced a liqueur that was worth drinking.  I've used fruits like loquats and mulberries, and fruit blends like guavas-and-limes and guavas-and-cranberries.  I've tossed in spices that I thought would go well with a particular fruit.  I currently have a fig leaf liqueur aging.  Once I had a large volume of maraschino cherry juice that I mixed with vodka and a little sugar.  My guest tasters liked it but suggested it needed something more to make it "just right."  One taster figured it out:  a little bit of almond extract did the trick.  

The recipe I want to share with you is a repeat of one I made in 2002 that turned out to be wonderful:  Fresh Mint Liqueur on page 54.

1 1/4 cups fresh mint leaves, slightly packed

3 cups vodka

2 cups granulated sugar

1 cup water

1 teaspoon glycerine*

8 drops green food coloring*

2 drops blue food coloring*

*I skipped these ingredients.

The mint variety is an important choice.

Wash leaves in cold water several times.  Shake or pat dry gently.  Snip each leaf in half or thirds; discard stems.  Measure cut mint leaves, packing gently.

Combine mint leaves and vodka in aging container.  Cap and let stand in a cool place for 2 weeks, shaking occasionally.

After the initial aging, pour liqueur through colander into a large bowl to remove the leaves; discard leaves.

In a saucepan, combine sugar and water.  Bring to a boil, stirring constantly.  Let cool.  Add cooled sugar syrup to mint liqueur base, stirring to combine.  Add glycerine and food color; pour into aging container for secondary aging of 1 to 3 more months.

My Notes

Mint comes in a wide variety of flavors, so if you have the opportunity to choose, consider what you really like about mint.  The first time I made it, I used a variety called chocolate mint (the stems are brownish), which has a mint flavor without the bite of spearmint or peppermint.  I really like that its mint flavor seems deeper, too.  I still have chocolate mint in my yard, so that is what I used here.  Timing is important, too, when using home-grown herbs.  I think spring or early summer is a good time to harvest them.

This is a single batch of the liqueur base:

Clamp lid, "lightning lid", jars are wonderful for this.

So I doubled it:

This is after the initial infusion period.  Notice how the color has changed, and the batch has a lovely mint scent:

This is filtered:

Making the sugar syrup:

In the beginning

Boiling and getting ready to cool.

I have never felt the need to add food coloring to my liqueurs.  I like them just the way they are.  Also, I have never used glycerine.  At first because I just couldn't find it in the stores; later, I felt that the sugar syrups usually give a good mouthfeel.  If they don't, I add a little more sugar, and that fixes the problem.

And here it is in its aging container.  The date is when the final aging began, not the initial infusing.

Planning in June for a December post.

The Verdict

The first time I made this I was new at liqueur-making, and I was astonished and pleased with the result.  The best way to describe the flavor is:  like drinking a candy cane with a kick!  Sweet (but not too sweet), minty in a wonderful way, and then the warmth of the alcohol washes over you.  It was one of the exquisite liqueurs I have made over the years.

So having a large amount of chocolate mint growing in my yard inspired me to try it again.  Doubling the recipe was my choice because of how good I expected it to be.

A close-up of the color with no food coloring added.

Liqueurs are for small quantities that are sipped and appreciated.

After about 5 months of aging, I tasted it.  It was minty without a bite, sweet but not too much so, a good mouthfeel, and reasonably smooth.  I think all of it will improve with more aging.  The double batch made almost 1/2 gallon, which will last me a long time unless I start giving it away.  Christmas is soon, so I just might.  There is plenty to share!

Success, again.  So far it is not at the epic level the first attempt was, but time may change that.  

Others of Long and Kibbey's recipes I've tried are:  apricot, lemon, peach, plum, taboo (citrus and vanilla, one of the epic liqueurs), and crème de cacao (but with cocoa powder, not the liquid chocolate they suggest).  I've also used their recipes as inspiration for other fruits, herbs, and spices in liqueurs.

Gingerbread Waffles, and a really neat book

This is one of my favorite cookbooks and I was astonished when I realized that I had not put any of its recipes into my blog:  Spoonbread and Strawberry Wine, by Norma Jean and Carole Darden, published in 1978 and then 1994. 

ISBN 0-385-47270-6

Why is this my favorite?  Because of the family stories that are connected to the recipes, because the family itself is inspiring and accomplished, and because of the obvious love the authors have for their family.

For example, when describing their grandfather, they wrote (pages 4 - 6):

Family legend has it that in 1868, at the age of fourteen, Charles Henry Darden walked into Wilson, North Carolina.  He had no money, no relatives, no friends there, and no one knew where he had come from -- he wouldn't say.  Somehow, somewhere in his mysterious fourteen years, he had gained considerable skill as a blacksmith and could make and repair wheels.  These abilities allowed him to eke out a small living and to put together the long wooden toolbox that was to become his trademark as he traveled door to door repairing broken locks and sharpening knives.  In a short time he established a good reputation and at seventeen was able to open a small repair shop at the end of the main street in Wilson.

Charles Darden went on to building his business -- in part to prove to the family of the woman he fell in love with that he was worthy -- and then expanded into other businesses, including a store where he also sold produce he grew, and a funeral parlor.  He set an example for his community, taught his ten children the value of hard work, and encouraged them to get a good education.  In fact, when his adopted town of Wilson built a high school for black students, they named it after him.

Papa Darden was seldom known to travel, yet he attended the graduations, from elementary to graduate school, of every one of his children.  Without a doubt, he must have been the proudest "papa" in the group, for in his lifetime, against many odds, he saw three sons become physicians, two become lawyers, and two become morticians, while two of his daughters became teachers and one a nurse.

Norma Jean and Carole Darden are the daughters of Charles Darden's youngest son, "Bud."  They spent time gathering stories and recipes from both sides of their family, and present them in a way that shows the reader what sort of people these family members are or were.  They have a lot to be proud of.

There are a variety of recipes that I want to try.  I love collard greens in a savory, flavorful broth; I want to try Papa Darden's wines and Aunt Artelia's hush puppies; the hot crab-meat salad looks scrumptious; and the candy recipes are inviting.  What I chose was the Gingerbread Waffles, not only because they look good (I love gingerbread and the spice mixture that is in it) but I was in a Sunday-morning brunch kind of mood.

Gingerbread Waffles (page 301)

2 eggs

1/4 cup sugar

1/2 cup molasses

1 cup sour milk (see note)

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon ground ginger

1/4 teaspoon ground cloves

1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

1/3 cup melted butter

Beat eggs until light.  Add sugar, molasses, and sour milk.  Sift dry ingredients together.  Add to egg mixture and beat together until smooth.  Add butter.  Cook as you would regular waffles.

Yield:  6 to 8 servings

Note:  To make sour milk, add 1 tablespoon distilled white vinegar to 1 cup milk

My Notes

I didn't have molasses so I substituted dark Karo syrup.  I think the molasses would make the flavor richer and bolder.  

I made the sour milk first as I know it needs to sit a little while after it is mixed.

The waffle iron started heating as soon as I got out all the ingredients.  It always works best when it has had a chance to heat up well before I ever try baking the first waffle.

The eggs were whisked until they were foamy.

Instead of sifting the dry ingredients, I measured them into a bowl and whisked them until they were well-blended.

It didn't take long to beat the batter until it was smooth.  This picture was taken after the melted butter was added in:

It smelled so good with all the spices!

I brushed a little butter over both sides of the hot waffle iron, then poured the batter onto the center.  Every waffle came out beautifully!  

The Verdict

My guest taster and I tried them without any spreads or toppings.  The spice mixture came through, which is what sells it to me.  We also tried them with a little butter and also with some Lemon Goop, which complimented the ginger flavor well.  All three ways are recommended!

Lemon Goop is a recipe I have tried several times, as given by Dorie Greenspan.  Click here for her recipe.  It is easy to make and you also get a great syrup out of it.  We have used the goop as a spread on breads, and the syrup in a variety of ways, like mixing it with soy sauce and black pepper to make a tasty marinade for salmon.  She also recommends making it into a salad dressing.  The goop is lemony and tart, barely sweet, a little salty.  You might think it is like lemon curd, but it is mostly concentrated lemon and not at all like the curd.

Success!  This recipe made five full waffles, each of which breaks into four small pieces.  What we didn't eat was frozen, and I look forward to another Sunday brunch with it.

You just can't go wrong with fixing waffles, and to add the lovely gingerbread spice mix just makes it even better.  

The Magic of Fire -- A Book Review

I live in Southern California, where the idea of seasons is laughable to many who live elsewhere.  Yes, we have seasons but their differences are mild:  winter is colder (but no snow, maybe we get rain, rarely does it freeze), spring is typically cool ("May gray" and "June gloom"), summer is hotter and drier (but "hot" is a relative assessment), fall can be cooler (but it is our usual wildfire season, so expect hot and dry).

This puts my next statement in context:  It was cold enough that I was able to build a fire in the fireplace.  (That is, without overheating the room.)  That means it was an opportunity to cook!

I love cooking with fire.  I don't get the opportunity to do it very often as my home isn't set up for it unless the weather is cold enough.  I could try it outside but reference that wildfire comment made above; we are all very aware of the danger a single spark poses.

So I grabbed that opportunity, and will do so again if others arrive.

Fortunately, my fireplace is huge and raised up off the floor.  The area in front of it is all ceramic tile.  There are enough horizontal surfaces around it to give me working space.  *Sigh*, it is a lovely setup for an historical cook.

As the fire was getting started, I recalled a book I used in 2014 in a post for this blog: String-Roasted Chicken.

ISBN 1-58008-453-2

There are many aspects of this book I enjoy -- the drawings, the stories, the recipes, and the cooking ideas -- but the one I want to focus on is Mr. Rubel's description of the different fire types you need for your cooking.  He includes how long the fire has been burning, the amount of embers and heat to expect, and each type's usefulness in cooking.

I'm going to paraphrase his words from pages 17 and 18:

New fire:  15 to 30 minutes after lighting; no embers; has limited use in cooking.

Moderately mature fire:  30 to 60 minutes after lighting; some embers; only useful for dishes that need a few embers.

Mature fire:  60 to 90 minutes after lighting; first five logs in fire reduced to embers that are producing most of the heat needed for cooking but still there is a gentle fire that helps, too.  Most recipes start with this level.

Long-burning fire:  More than four hours after lighting; has a substantial ash base which is what distinguishes it from the mature fire.  May have one of the flame types listed below. 

Gentle:  one or two logs burning lazily; slow ember production

Moderate:  two or three logs burning with some energy but flames only a few inches long; there is a hot bed of embers, enough to harvest a fresh amount every 10 to 15 minutes

High:  three or four longs burning fiercely; a substantial bed of embers and more being produced rapidly; long flames

What I like about his description is that I now have a way to judge either what recipe to make or what fire to aim for.  Do I need a long, slow heat to cook beans?  Do I need the more focused heat from a lot of embers?  Mr. Rubel tells us what fire he recommends for his recipes but I can extrapolate from there for recipes from other books.

So what did I cook over my first fire of the season?  Nothing precisely from his book but it did inspire me to try some techniques I haven't used in a long time as well as a new one.

The easiest, but still wonderful, recipe is for Roasted Onion Salad. I wrote about it in 2013 but baked the onions in the oven.  This time I set the onions in the fireplace and let them roast by the fire, with an occasional turn.



As the fire changed, I moved the onions around to keep them cooking.



They came out beautifully tender and mild.  After they were peeled, I sliced them and dressed them with a quality balsamic vinegar, freshly grated nutmeg, and a dash of olive oil.  I served them with grilled sausages for a light, flavorful dinner.  (I tried to grill the sausages over embers but didn't have enough to make it work.)

The next day was still cold so I kept the fire going and tried out cooking in my big ceramic pot.  An important part of cooking with ceramic is getting it warmed up slowly to avoid thermal shock.  I put the empty pot on the hearth as the fire was rekindled and turned it a few times to warm it evenly.

Then I added the ingredients for a chicken and vegetable stew:  chicken thighs, garlic cloves, cabbage, young potatoes, mushrooms, cherry tomatoes, onions, fresh thyme, ground pepper, salt, lemon slices, and water.



I put in the thyme and about half of the veggies first.



Then the chicken and spices on top of that.



I topped it off with the rest of the veggies and the sliced lemon, with water to cover.



The cover went on and the pot was moved close to the fire.



I turned it to put the cooler side towards the fire every 30 minutes or so as the fire grew in size, embers were produced, and the contents warmed up.  Then I moved the pot onto the bricks.



At this point the pot was hot all the way through, so I just checked on it and the fire every hour or so.  I let the stew cook most of the day (to the fire at 11:30 am, it was ready for dinner around 6pm).

It was a good stew!  It needed more seasoning -- especially salt -- but the meat was cooked, the water turned to broth, and all the vegetables were tender.  I dished the vegetables and broth into a bowl then used tongs to put a piece of chicken on top.  It was a complete meal, along with a glass of wine, of course!  (For the leftovers, I added some red wine and more salt and pepper before I reheated it.  Yum!)



I want to point out an advantage of using the bricks.  The fireplace floor is below the tiled hearth so the bricks give me a higher floor, making it easier to move the heavy pot in and out without having to lift it up.  This is important considering I'm sitting sideways to the fire and have to lean over to move the pots!

That evening I got out my small iron kettle and filled it with course sea salt.  I decided to make Hard Eggs, which I wrote about in 2012.  I buried four eggs in the salt, set it near the fire for an hour or so, then moved it even closer before going to bed.

The next morning I dug the eggs out of the salt to see how they had cooked.



They looked good, but the telling is in the peeling, and this is how they turned out.



Two were obviously cooked more than the other two, to the point where they looked dark and rubbery.  But we ate them anyway, just to see.



The lighter ones were really good:  the flavor was deeper, almost caramel-like, than a typical hard-boiled egg.  The surface was slightly salty, which surprised me.  I think the salt may have infiltrated the shell because the eggs were slightly damp when they went into the salt.  I am not a big hard-boiled egg fan but I did like these very much.

The darker ones were too chewy, too rubbery for my liking, but they were still edible.  I suspect that I moved the kettle too close to the fire when it was very hot.  The salt is very good at moderating the heat around the egg (which is why they didn't explode) but it can only do so much when the fire is hot.

Mr. Rubel brings up this point, too, on page 81, "Roasted Eggs" (in ashes):

While these instructions are easily stated, this is, in fact, one of the most difficult recipes in this book to master.  If the buried eggs get too hot too quickly, they soon explode with a muffled "pop."  If they are less hot, but still too hot, and especially if too hot for too long, they dry out in the all-night baking.  But if the ashes are too cool, the eggs don't cook fully.  Perfect warmth maintained for 8 hours results in eggs of lovely golden hues and a delicate flavor.

I achieved the golden hue and delicate flavor for two of the four eggs.  Between that, the stew, and the onion salad, I declare my fire-based cooking adventure a huge success!

I do recommend getting The Magic of Fire by William Rubel.  It is beautifully produced and has a wide variety of cooking techniques.  I am itching to try Fagioli al Fiasco, which has us cooking beans in a glass container.  When you read his writing, you know you are hearing the voice of long experience.  And that is the highest compliment I can give!

Seasoning Cast Iron -- An eBook Review

I have a lot of cast iron pans.

The five frying pans are the ones I use in the kitchen most often; I also have a griddle, a fajitas pan, and a variety of cast iron pots and Dutch ovens I use in my demonstration cooking.

Caring for them is a bit of work but also a joy as I love to cook in them.  I learn more about them every time I use them.

One big kettle was purchased for nearly nothing because it was very rusty and ugly.  However some time spent scrubbing it with white vinegar and a wire brush cleaned it up well and made it completely useable.  Since then, its maintenance has been minimal.

We all know that cast iron does best when it is seasoned.  So how do you season it well?  I've always cleaned the pan and rubbed it with a bit of cooking oil once it was dry.  I used to dry it quickly on the stove, but this lead to rust issues.  Now I let it air dry and that works for me.

I knew that sometimes you want to remove the old seasoning, especially if you buy a used pan and want to clean it up before using it yourself.  The two good options are baking it in a self-cleaning oven cycle (Two for one!  A clean pan and a clean oven!) or burying the pan in a bonfire and digging it back out once it is cool.

Sometimes my seasoning attempts resulted in a gummy coating that smelled funny if the pan wasn't used for a while.  Something needs to change here.

So I found this eBook, Seasoning Cast Iron by L. R. LaBella.

ISBN 978-1-4658-8895-2

It is free although sometimes you have to search around to find out who is currently publishing it.  Today I found it here:  http://www.yumpu.com/en/document/view/4538680/seasoning-cast-iron-by-l-r-labella-isbn-978-1-4658-8895-2

It is short and to-the-point, with pictures that show exactly what you need to do.

The key is to have flaxseed oil, purchased in health food stores, because "What we're after is a hard, slick, durable finish.  The best way to get that is with a 'drying oil'.  The only edible drying oil is flaxseed."  The author notes that "Other oils can be used, but the finish won't be as durable."

I had to look around in my local store because the flaxseed oil was not stored on the same shelves as the other oils.  They kept it in a refrigerated area to keep it from going rancid too quickly.  After I bought it, I stored it in the refrigerator, too.

Mr. LaBella's steps are this (some steps paraphrased; some are quoted):

1.  Strip the pan to bare metal.  This is not needed if your pan is new.

My Note:  Bare metal means it looks gray instead of black or brown.  

2.  "Put a bit of oil into the pan.  A teaspoonful will be more than enough.  Rub it into the pan, inside and out including the handle.  I use a paper towel."

3.  "Use another paper towel and wipe out as much oil as you can.  You want a shiny pan, with no puddles of oil. ... thin coats are much better than thick ones."

4.  Bake it at 450 degrees Fahrenheit for 60 - 90 minutes; expect some smoking.

5.  Let the pan cool for about 10 minutes.  "Put in another dab of oil, rub it around as before, wipe it off as before, and bake it as before."

6.  "For a really good, durable finish", do five coats.

He also points out that "You still need to use a bit of oil or butter when cooking.  The pan's cooking qualities will keep improving as you use it and the seasoning continues to develop."

To clean your pans after this seasoning process, "you can use soap (not detergent) and a brush or Dobie pad (nylon mesh over a sponge) to clean the pan. ... If a quick soak doesn't loosen something burnt on, use salt mixed with a bit of oil as the abrasive."  I use one of those nylon scrapers that comes with stoneware cooking items and that works well.

He then recommends you towel dry the pan and heat it for a few seconds to evaporate any remaining moisture.  He found that air drying leads to rust.

Then he says to "oil the pan very lightly with cooking oil, wiping out excess oil as before."

He gives the pan a flaxseed oil seasoning coat once a year, just one.

***

I tried this with all five of my frying pans.  They all had been through the self-cleaning cycle of my oven, then washed and scrubbed with the wire brush and scouring powder.  I won't say they were down to just bare metal everywhere, but there was definitely less seasoning on them than before they were baked.  The inside bottoms looked gray.

Bare metal where it is gray

I used a paper towel to distribute the oil; keep refolding it so one side doesn't get so worn that it leaves behind bits of towel on the pan.  Two towels were good for five pans; I put oil in the two biggest and spread it around to all of the pans.

IMPORTANT:  Baking oil at 450 degrees F can get a little smelly, so do this task on a day when you can open up the windows and let fresh air in!  I had my stovetop fan running at the highest speed while the pans were in the oven, too.  At the end of the day, air in the house was still pretty "seasoned" with a cooked oil smell.   This is not for sissies!

I did 60 minutes per coat; when I had to leave right after a cycle was done, I turned off the oven and left the pans to cool in it.  When I was able to stay after a cycle, I pulled the pans out, let them cool but left the oven on, then started the process over again.

IMPORTANT:  The pans coming out of the oven are HOT!  Use a tough hot pad to protect your hand and arm and know before you pick them up where the pans are to be set on the counter -- have a trivet ready. 

When the pans have cooled for 10 minutes, as instructed, they are still pretty warm so use protection.  I stopped putting oil on the handles when this happened so not to soil my hot pads.

After one coat

The Verdict

Success!  The process works well.  I could tell that the oil was polymerizing because between each coat because the pan went from shiny to matte and the new application of oil didn't really want to stick to the previous layer.

At the end, each pan was dark brown or blackish.  The seasoning was dry.  One pan looked like I had made the coats thicker than the others but it doesn't seem like a problem.

Five coats.  Brown, not rusty.

I tested one pan by cooking eggs (using a little butter) and they didn't stick.  Also they cleaned up easily.

The downside is the smell of baked oil from five fry pans getting coated five times over the length of an entire day.  Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad if it was only one or two pans or just one coat.  Knowing this inspires me to maintain the seasoning properly so I don't have to do it again.  I'm not sure I would do this for my other cast iron pans -- maybe just the inside and rims and maybe just a few coats.

One issue I've had with my Dutch ovens is that the seasoning melts off when I make a stew.  Perhaps flaxseed oil won't do that.  If I continue with the process or have any other observations in the future, I'll post updates.

Vanilla Sugar and Grace Firth

One of the favorite cookbooks in my collection is Secrets of the Still by Grace Firth.  (EPM Publications, Inc.)  One of the reasons I love it is the chatty, insightful stories Ms. Firth tells relating to whatever topic she has just introduced.  What a life this woman had!  And she manages to relate it all to stills, scents, cooking, food, and fun.  I recommend reading her book just for the pleasure of experiencing her adventures.

You can read about her time in Alaska during the late 1940s and her explorations of nature with her beloved husband, Lewis.  You will, in the process, learn about fermentation, distillation, flavors, fragrances, cosmetics, herbal medicines, and yes, even alcohol. 

One short adventure she had as a child is found on page 102, under the section "Flavoring is a Leader."  Here it is:

"My grandmother kept vanilla pods in a tightly lidded gallon container filled with sugar.  She used the sugar in baking and did not add vanilla extract.  Her vanilla beans lasted for years; she simply added more sugar when she took some out.  She stored the jar in the bottom of the food closet and I can remember getting into it, sitting on the floor, wetting my finger, dipping and savoring.  She caught me once and that was the last of that happiness."

I've been making vanilla sugar for years and can verify that it works and works well.  I use it in cooking, in tea, and sometimes I give a small container of vanilla sugar as a gift.  If I really love the person, I include a vanilla bean with the jar and instructions on how to keep the stock going.

The only thing that caused me to get more beans for my own supply was that in scooping sugar out of the jar, I sometimes break the beans.  After awhile the pieces are small and annoying, so I get a few more beans to replace them. 

I've noticed it takes a few weeks for fresh sugar to absorb the vanilla flavor.  I don't replace what I take out immediately; I usually wait until the level is low.  It is not an issue because I don't cook with it daily or even weekly.

I've heard -- but have not tried -- that you can make sugar with other flavors using a similar method.  Some day I will probably try using mint leaves.  My main worry is that they will get moldy.  One friend is going to try burying a bean into her stash of cinnamon sugar.  Mmmm!  Vanilla cinnamon sugar!


Sadly, Ms. Firth died in 2004.  She had written several books; the other one I have is the companion book to Secrets, called Stillroom Cookery.  I like it but have not tried the recipes in it.

The Verdict:  I highly recommend you read The Secrets of the Still.  If you have any interest in fermentation (includes things like sauerkraut, pickles, and vinegar), distillation, or scents, this book is for you.  If you love travel, you will love her adventures.