Oh brother, Mother Hubbard, have you checked out your cupboard? Look at all those crazy cans and bottles. Where did they come from? Who made them? How long did they travel to get here? And what’s really lurking under the lids?
You can save yourself from the exotic stabilizers and questionable chemical additives in commercial pantry staples—and, sometimes, from spending more money than you need to.
Crafting your own DIY kitchen means that a little investment of time and energy now provides a pantry with your personal stamp for months to come. You may not reach for your homemade condiments and flavor enhancers every day, but when you do, you’ll beam with pride. Make them, bottle them, share them—and stir in their sweet sweat equity.
Think about it: how many dishes do you eat on a regular basis that begin with a can of tomatoes? I blaze through cases of the stuff in pasta sauces, braised meats, and vegetable soups alone. Canned tomatoes are the little black dress of the kitchen. They’re always appropriate and entirely versatile, and they never go out of style. Why not make your canned tomatoes the very best that they can be, featuring plump red orbs from your favorite farmer packed at the height of the season? Cook’s notes: Meyer lemons will not be acidic enough to properly preserve the fruit. Use any other kind of lemon juice. And be sure to use clean, crack-free jars and fresh canning lids (the bands can be previously used).
Makes about 16 cups (8 pints)
TIME COMMITMENT About 4 hours
6½ pounds perfectly ripe tomatoes
8 teaspoons kosher salt
8 teaspoons lemon juice (from about 2 lemons)
INSTRUCTIONS Wash, stem, and core the tomatoes. Chop into ½-inch pieces, trying to retain as much of the juice as possible; I use a bench scraper to scoop up the juice and seeds and add them to the bowl that’s holding my chopped tomatoes. You should have about 18 cups of fruit.
Tightly pack a little more than 2 cups of tomatoes into each of 8 clean pint jars with fresh lids ready for canning. Don’t worry if the jars appear not to have enough headspace, as the tomatoes will reduce when they are processed. Make certain that the fruit is packed as firmly as possible without bruising it. Divide the tomato juices evenly among the jars. Sprinkle 1 teaspoon of salt and 1 teaspoon of lemon juice into each jar.
Examine the level of liquid of each jar, and top off with tap water as needed to fully cover the fruit. Cap each jar tightly and shake gently to distribute the salt and lemon juice.
HOW TO STORE IT Process according to the canning directions in the sidebar. Label and date the jars and store in a dark, cool place. Properly sealed, these cans will have a shelf life of 1 year.
Place an empty canning pot or stockpot on the stove-top (don’t turn on the heat yet). Place as many jars in the pot as will fit without touching one another (you may have to process the jars in multiple batches). Fill the pot with cold water to cover the jars by at least 1 inch. Put the lid on the pot and turn the heat to high. Bring the water to a boil and let the jars boil for 15 minutes.
Put a kitchen towel on your counter. Turn the heat off and carefully remove the jars from the hot water bath with tongs or canning tongs and place them on the towel (don’t let the jars touch). You will likely hear some of the jar lids pop, indicating that they have been properly sealed (they can still be properly sealed even if you don’t hear the pop). After the jars have cooled for about 10 minutes, check the seals: press down on the center of each lid; it should not bounce back. If it does, move the jar to the refrigerator once it’s cool and eat within a week.
Go out right now and make friends with people who have a lemon tree. Be nice to them. Bring them cookies from time to time and occasionally walk their dog. Do whatever it takes to encourage them to let you help yourself to their citrus bounty when the time comes. The rind of a preserved lemon may not be something we reach for every day, but no Moroccan tagine would be complete without its acidic tang (and, for something completely different, try a splash of the juice in your next Bloody Mary). Many commercial varieties preserve the fruit in citric acid. However, this homemade version is quick to put together and relies on only lemon juice and salt as preservatives, with great unique flavor that will last from one North African feast to the next. Cook’s note: Meyer lemons should not be used for this recipe, as their skins are too thin.
Makes 4 cups
TIME COMMITMENT About 1 week
4 pounds thick-skinned lemons
6 cloves
3 bay leaves
1 (4-inch) cinnamon stick
¼ cup kosher salt
INSTRUCTIONS Wash, dry, and stem the 6 smallest lemons in the bunch (or however many whole lemons you can comfortably fit inside a quart jar). Take the lemons out of the jar and cut a deep X shape lengthwise into each fruit, leaving about ¾ inch of each lemon intact at one end.
Place the cloves, bay, and cinnamon in the bottom of the jar. Pour all of the salt onto a plate. Hold a cut lemon over the plate and spoon 1 teaspoon of salt inside the cut. Rub the salt all over the inside of the fruit and stack it in the jar. When all the lemons are packed in, scrape up any remaining salt and transfer that to the jar as well.
Juice the remaining lemons until you have 2 cups of juice—enough to cover all of the lemons in the jar. If you run out of lemon juice, pour in a small amount of water to top off the fruit. It’s important that the lemons be totally submerged.
Cover the jar tightly, and shake gently to distribute the salt. Label and date the jar, and refrigerate for 7 days, shaking occasionally.
HOW TO STORE IT Your lemons are ready to use after a week and they will keep for up to 1 year in the refrigerator.
When you make your own vanilla extract, the waiting time is long, but the labor involved is minimal. Essentially, you’re supersaturating booze with real vanilla to make the most potent vanilla tincture you can imagine. Although I’m calling for vodka here because it’s the most neutral in flavor, feel free to go wild with rum, whisky, amaretto, you name it: but if you do, expect that your extract will carry those flavors into whatever you’re baking or flavoring. Vanilla beans are fairly expensive; I buy mine at Saffron.com, where the quality is high and the price astonishingly low.
Makes 1 cup
TIME COMMITMENT About 8 weeks
8 vanilla beans
1 cup vodka
INSTRUCTIONS Using a sharp paring knife, split the vanilla beans along their length, keeping a half-inch of the bean intact at the stem end so you have something to hold onto while scraping. With your knife tip, scrape the “caviar”—the sticky, fragrant seeds—out of the bean into a clean, odorless glass jar. Chop the beans coarsely, and add them to the jar as well. Pour the vodka over the beans, cover tightly, and write the date on the jar. Shake the jar, then wrap it in brown paper (or tuck into a brown paper bag), and store in a cool, dark place.
Shake the jar daily for a week, checking that the tiny seeds remain submerged in the alcohol before you wrap the jar and put it back on the shelf. After the first week, continue to shake the jar a couple of times a week for the remainder of the steeping process. After 8 weeks, your vanilla extract is ready for use.
The beans can remain in the extract for up to about 5 months without deterioration. However, eventually the solids will need to be filtered out via a small sieve, or else they will begin to dissolve.
HOW TO STORE IT Wrapped in brown paper, this extract will keep indefinitely in your pantry.
Tangy, vinegary, and slightly hot and sweet: whether it’s used for Bloody Marys or on a steak, this classic sauce cannot be replaced. And it’s so easy to make your own. Bottled and wrapped in brown paper, it’s a manly, old-school kitchen and bar staple that’s giftable and will last for months. Cook’s note: tamarind paste can be purchased at Latin American and Asian markets; find fish sauce at Asian markets.
Makes about 1½ cups
TIME COMMITMENT About 2 weeks
½ cup tamarind paste
3 shallots, thinly sliced
1 thin slice fresh ginger
3 cloves
½ teaspoon kosher salt
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
3 whole jalapeño chiles, thinly sliced
2 tablespoons plus 2 teaspoons fish sauce
1 tablespoon blackstrap molasses
¼ cup white distilled vinegar
2 tablespoons corn syrup
1 clove garlic, smashed
¼ teaspoon black pepper
1 tablespoon dark brown sugar
INSTRUCTIONS Put the tamarind in a medium bowl, add ⅔ cup of warm water, and let sit for 10 minutes. Using your bare hands, squish the paste and water together into a liquid slurry. Remove and discard all seeds and pods.
In a large, clean, odorless jar with a tight lid, combine the tamarind slurry with all the remaining ingredients, plus ¼ cup of water, and stir or shake to blend. Wrap the jar in brown paper or enclose in a brown paper bag and store in a cool, dark place for 2 weeks to allow the flavors to develop. Shake the contents of the jar every few days.
After 2 weeks, strain the contents of the jar through a fine-mesh sieve set over a bowl, pressing hard on the solids to harvest as much liquid as you can. Discard the solids. Using a funnel, pour the Worcestershire sauce into a pour-top or shaker-top bottle. Label and date the jar. Note that the liquid will settle and become more cloudy on the bottom; this is just the natural characteristic of the brew.
HOW TO STORE IT The sauce will keep for 1 year covered in brown paper in a cool, dark spot in your pantry.
Vinegar can be a bit of a culinary singing frog, I’ve found. I’ve had wine turn sour quickly and perfectly when no one is looking, but when I’ve actually tried to coax the right bacteria into action to make pure vinegar, progress has been slow or nil. If you have a friend who already makes vinegar and who can spare a hunk of their “mother”—the large, spongy spore that turns all things alcoholic (red wine, white wine, cider) into vinegar—then stop reading and just do what they tell you to do. If you’re truly starting from scratch, however, you need to procure our bacterial friend Mycoderma aceti to catalyze the wine. (As a bonus, you will grow your own mother to create more vinegar later.) Find M. aceti at your local beer brewing supply shop or online—for example, at Beer-Winemaking.com. (In this recipe, I’ve adapted Northampton Beer & Winemaking’s instructions.) Cook’s notes: I’ve had vinegar happen in as little as five weeks, but three months is not an unusual conversion time. Also, you can use any kind of wine here, but keep in mind that the finished result will still have some of the flavor characteristics of the wine you started with. Don’t be put off by homemade vinegar’s funky aromas. Because it is unpasteurized, it is a living pantry organism, and its flavor and smell will continue to change as it ages.
Makes about 1½ cups
TIME COMMITMENT less than 3 months
12 ounces liquid vinegar starter (Mycoderma aceti)
2 cups white or red wine
1 cup water
INSTRUCTIONS Combine all the ingredients in a large earthen crock, a glass jar with a wide top, or a food-grade plastic bucket. Loosely cover the top of the vessel with a thin kitchen towel and tie the towel around the top to secure it. The idea here is to allow airflow in, but keep insects and debris out.
Store the vessel in a warm, dark place and let it sit, undisturbed, for 1 to 3 months. The liquid will grow more cloudy, a sheen will gather at the top, and eventually, a “mother”—a spongy, mushroomlike object—will form on the surface. Strain the vinegar, reserving the mother. Bottle it, date it, and it’s ready to use. Additionally, the mother can be used instead of liquid starter to grow additional batches of vinegar (using the same recipe as above). Simply add wine to water in a ratio of 2:1 and begin the process again.
HOW TO STORE IT The vinegar will last in a cool, dark place almost indefinitely. Note that your mother must be “fed” constantly to keep it alive.
Makes about 1 cup
A vinegar infusion is just a gussied-up way of saying flavored vinegar, and it’s a great ready-made flavoring condiment for salads, marinades, or anywhere you’d reach for salad dressing. Wild or mild, the flavor possibilities are endless.
INSTRUCTIONS In a clean, odorless container with a tight lid, pour 1 cup of mild white wine, red wine, or apple cider vinegar (either homemade or store-bought) over 1½ cups of packed, lightly crushed fresh herbs, such as cilantro, shiso leaf (found in Japanese markets), basil, or mint. Cap tightly, label and date the jar, and store in a cool, dark place. Swirl the contents of the jar every other day or so for 2 weeks.
After 2 weeks, filter the vinegar through a fine-mesh sieve set over a bowl, pressing on the solids to harvest as much of the vinegar as possible. If your plan is to gift the vinegar, pour it into an insanely attractive bottle and garnish with a couple of sprigs of fresh herbs, either inside or outside the bottle. If you’re keeping it for your own use, a pourable bottle or one with a shaker top is a great idea. Stored in a cool, dark place, your vinegar will keep shelf-stable for a year.
Other infusions I have enjoyed include: the zest of 4 large oranges; 5 jalapeño chiles sliced lengthwise, plus ½ teaspoon of liquid smoke; and 1 cup chopped sweet apple, the white of a green onion, 2 star anise, and a slice of fresh ginger. Note that you can use vinegars with a strong flavor, such as balsamic and some bold red wine vinegars, but that these strong flavors will remain in the finished infusion.
Some cuisines just inspire fanaticism, and many pray at the Church of Meat and Fire with a religious devotion that I cannot even begin to touch. For you, my pious carnivores, heaps of books and blogs and entire television networks exist to discuss and analyze the dozens of global barbecue styles and sauces—you likely have already found them. For the rest of us who just crave a great plate of ribs and chicken every so often, this is the kind of sweet and tangy red sauce that my mom used to buy in a bottle to douse on chicken wings under the broiler, and it makes me salivate to this day.
Makes about 2 cups
TIME COMMITMENT About 15 minutes
2 tablespoons neutral vegetable oil
1 cup minced yellow onion
2 teaspoons kosher salt
2 cloves garlic, minced
1 (6-ounce) can tomato paste
3 tablespoons Worcestershire sauce, either homemade or store-bought
5 teaspoons prepared yellow mustard
2 tablespoons blackstrap molasses
¼ cup plus 1 tablespoon white distilled vinegar
3 tablespoons light brown sugar
1 teaspoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon adobo sauce, either homemade or canned
Pinch of black pepper
INSTRUCTIONS In a medium saucepan over medium heat, heat the oil until shimmering. Add the onion and the salt, stir to coat the onion in the oil, and cook until it softens, about 2 minutes. Add the garlic and sauté for another 3 minutes, until fragrant. Stir in the tomato paste and cook for 2 to 3 minutes, until it caramelizes slightly.
Take the pan off the heat and stir in the Worcestershire sauce, mustard, molasses, vinegar, sugar, soy sauce, adobo sauce, and pepper. Transfer the barbecue sauce to a glass jar with a tight-fitting lid.
HOW TO STORE IT Kept refrigerated, it will last for at least 4 months.
Looking for something interesting to do with meat? Try this rub on for size. The flavors come together into sort of a dry mole. This is masterful on seared tri-tip and pork chops, but it also works well on grilled chicken leg quarters. If you’re not a big fan of spicy eats, cut the amount of adobo sauce in half and replace it with an equal amount of orange juice. If your plan is to gift this paste for later use (or just to use it later yourself), omit the garlic and stir it in when you’re ready to eat. The other components of the rub can be combined ahead of time, and will last about two weeks.
Makes about ¾ cup
TIME COMMITMENT About 15 minutes
3 tablespoons unsweetened cocoa powder
2 tablespoons adobo sauce, either homemade or canned
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
4 tablespoons freshly squeezed orange juice (from 1 orange)
1 teaspoon orange zest
2 teaspoons salt
3 cloves garlic, minced
INSTRUCTIONS Stir all the ingredients together in a bowl. To use, rub onto 2 pounds of meat. Allow the meat to marinate in the rub, uncovered in the refrigerator, for 30 minutes or more. Grill, pan-sear, roast, or broil the meat as you like.
HOW TO STORE IT To store, spoon the rub into a jar and seal tightly. The rub will keep in the refrigerator for up to 3 days (or 2 weeks if you omit the garlic until you’re ready to use the rub).
That crazy spice blend you buy in a jar makes for a fast dinner; make it yourself, and it also makes a great quickie gift. I know cookbooks always tell you to use fresh spices for everything, but when it comes to curry powder, this really is An Important Thing. It’s also helpful if all of your spices are about the same age and strength for a well-balanced blend. If you have a dedicated coffee mill for grinding fresh spices, this is the time to bust it out—grind as many of the spices as you can fresh (though the onion powder and the garlic powder will need to come ready-made from a big ol’ grocery store).
Makes about ⅓ cup
TIME COMMITMENT About 10 minutes
2 tablespoons ground turmeric
5 teaspoons ground cumin
2 teaspoons ground black pepper
½ teaspoon ground coriander
¼ teaspoon ground nutmeg
¼ teaspoon powdered mustard
¼ teaspoon ground fennel seeds
½ teaspoon kosher salt
1½ teaspoons ground cinnamon
¼ teaspoon ground cardamom
Pinch of ground cloves
1 teaspoon garlic powder
2½ teaspoons onion powder
¼ teaspoon cayenne pepper
INSTRUCTIONS Combine all the ingredients in a bowl and mix together with a fork. Using a funnel, pour the mixture into a small glass jar with a tight-fitting lid. Label and date the jar.
HOW TO STORE IT The curry will keep on the shelf for up to 9 months.
Serves 3 to 4
What does one do with curry powder? A whisper of it in baked goods, over popcorn, or on eggs is sublime, but for a taste of the classics, try this!
3 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoon neutral vegetable oil
1 yellow onion, chopped
2 teaspoons chopped fresh ginger
2 cloves garlic, minced
3 tablespoons curry powder, homemade or store-bought
1 pound boneless chicken, chopped into bite-size pieces
2 cups chopped fresh or canned tomatoes, chicken stock, water, or coconut milk
1 cup fresh or thawed frozen peas
4 cups cooked rice
INSTRUCTIONS In a deep sauté pan or Dutch oven, heat the butter and oil over medium heat. Add the onion and sauté until soft, about 3 minutes. Add the ginger and garlic and cook, stirring constantly, 3 minutes more. Add the curry powder and allow the spices to toast for 1 minute. Add the chicken and the tomatoes and stir well to combine, scraping up all of the browned bits from the bottom of the pan.
Cover, reduce the heat to medium-low, and allow to gently simmer for 15 minutes. Stir in the peas, cover again, and allow to simmer for 5 minutes more. Serve immediately over rice.
I used to live in Japan, and I never say no to raw fish or fresh shiso leaves. I’ve always loved how making Japanese food feels really complicated, but it ain’t. File “making miso” under that category. Mush together regular ol’ soy beans, sea salt, water, and one special ingredient, Koji rice (rice that has been inoculated with the appropriate fermenting bacteria), set it to rest for about 6 weeks, and voila! A dreamy, salty basis for soups, spreads, fish rubs, and pickles. Note that this recipe makes a light miso, also called mellow miso or yellow miso, and that it yields plenty to share. This has the shortest sitting time of all the misos and is one of the most forgiving (and quickly rewarding) styles. And if you decide to take this one step further and innoculate your own Koji rice, you are much, much cooler than I. If you can’t find Koji at your local health food store, you can order it online (I buy mine from GEMCultures.com). Cook’s note: You can use any kind of unpasteurized miso to help jump-start your fermentation, either store-bought or from your own previous batch of miso. This is optional, but it will help accelerate the process. For more awesome hardcore miso info, pick up The Miso Book: The Art of Cooking with Miso by John Belleme.
Makes 5 pints
TIME COMMITMENT About 6 weeks
1¼ pounds dried soybeans (about 3¼ cups)
1¼ cups sea salt
2 pounds Koji rice (about 5¼ cups)
¼ cup unpasteurized miso (optional)
5 to 6 cups water
INSTRUCTIONS Soak the soybeans in 8 cups of water for at least 12 hours but not more than 24. Drain and rinse the beans thoroughly.
In a large covered stock pot or Dutch oven, cover the beans with water by 2 inches. Cover, bring to a boil, and then reduce the heat to a simmer for about 3½ hours, stirring from time to time, until the beans are soft and tender to the bite. Err on the side of overcooked rather than under.
Drain and rinse the beans. Mash them with a potato masher or ricer.
Transfer the bean puree to a very large bowl or mixing vessel, and mix in 1 cup of the salt and the Koji rice, stirring well with a heavy wooden spoon to combine thoroughly.
Dissolve the unpasteurized miso, if using, into 1 cup of water, and stir well to help the miso dissolve. Pour over the soy bean mixture and mix in thoroughly. Add 3 more cups of water (or 4 cups if you’ve not used the miso slurry) and mix in well. Take a handful of the miso paste and squeeze it in your fist. It should be wet enough to squeeze through your fingers. If not, add the final cup of water and evenly combine.
You will need a clean, large ceramic, glass, or food-grade plastic vessel in which to ferment the miso, and a free-fitting lid large enough to sit on top of the miso and press down on it while its volume shrinks. Evenly sprinkle 2 tablespoons of the salt over the bottom of the container and pour in a quarter of the miso, packing it down firmly with your clean hand or the back of a spoon. Gently but firmly, twist, shake, bang, or tap the container to release any air bubbles. Continue to add the miso in small batches and continue to pack it as tightly as possible.
Once all the miso is packed and the air bubbles have been removed, sprinkle the final 2 tablespoons of salt evenly over the top. Lay plastic wrap on top of the miso to the edges, and then place the lid directly on top of the miso, not on top of the container itself. Add a weight, such as a pint jar filled with water or a 28-ounce can, on top of the miso. Cover the whole kit and kaboodle with a clean dish towel and tie it with string to keep it secure—just enough to keep out dust and insects.
Mark the container with today’s date and the dates for 2 weeks, 4 weeks, and 6 weeks out. Go put these dates on your calendar so that you remember to check on your miso. Go ahead. I’ll wait. Let the miso sit in a warm, but not hot, place to ferment.
After 2 weeks, check on your miso. Send a spoon deep below the top salted surface of the miso and taste. The aroma should be kind of sweet and fermented and somewhat alcoholic, pleasant and unpleasant at the same time. Unless the weather has been very warm, it likely won’t be ready for another month. But if you’d like a stronger flavor, let it sit for 8 weeks, testing deep below the surface weekly until the flavor suits you.
Once the miso is to your liking, scrape off the top ½ to ¾ inch of the miso and discard. Stir the remaining miso well; it will be salty and its aroma should be pleasant. Your miso is ready to eat, and it should look quite “inaka style”—country style and sort of chunky. If you prefer a completely smooth paste, puree it in the food processor in batches for 3 minutes.
Pack the finished miso into pint jars with an inch or more of space on top (the miso will expand), labeling and dating them.
HOW TO STORE IT Kept refrigerated, the miso will be fresh, but ever-changing, for 9 months. Note that miso is a fermented food, so it should not be canned.
