Tim Maddams
LATIN NAME
Pimenta dioica
ALSO KNOWN AS
Jamaica pepper, Jamaican pimento
MORE RECIPES
Buckwheat and apple fritters; Eccles cakes
Allspice is one of those spices that every cook seems to have in their cupboard but seldom uses. And yet, most of us eat it all the time without even knowing, because it lends its peppery, aromatic quality to many off-the-shelf ketchups and sauces.
As the name suggests, the flavour is a complex one – a mingling of cloves, cinnamon, pepper and bay. It starts life as a fresh berry on an evergreen shrub, which is picked and then dried in the sun until hard and brown. In the hot climates where it flourishes, including the Caribbean and Central America, fresh allspice leaves are used in much the same way as bay. The wood is also used for smoking and barbecuing, lending a soft, sweet aroma to the foods being cooked.
Allspice can be overpoweringly hot and astringent if you’re heavy-handed with it. It’s a good idea to taste it (or any unfamiliar spice) on a little piece of buttered bread to get to know the flavour, then add a tiny amount of salt and see what changes. Try it with a little sugar instead and you’ll soon have a good grasp of the spice’s characteristics.
Allspice is the cornerstone of dishes such as jerk chicken and goat curry and very good in home-made ketchups and chutneys. But I also like to use it in more unexpected places, such as ice creams and broths, or sprinkle it on to fresh flatbreads with chilli flakes and good olive oil.
Allspice is not the same thing as mixed spice, which is a proprietary blend – usually including cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg and ginger. Pure allspice has a much hotter, more peppery character, but it does have its uses in baking. A touch of allspice can be fabulous in cakes with orange and ginger, and it often makes an appearance in German pfeffernüsse biscuits.
As with most spices, I urge you to buy whole berries and grind them yourself. The result will be far more vibrant and lively than the ready-ground spice.
Allspice is one of the defining flavours in Caribbean jerk chicken, which is usually made with a jointed bird. But it does a great job of spicing up a simple roast too. Serve with ‘rice and peas’ (rice cooked in coconut milk, mixed with kidney beans). Serves 4
1 free-range chicken (about 1.75kg)
A glass of water or white wine
FOR THE JERK SEASONING
1 tbsp allspice berries
1 tbsp black peppercorns
Leaves from a small bunch of thyme
4 spring onions, roughly chopped
4 garlic cloves, roughly chopped
1–2 medium-hot red chillies, to taste, deseeded and chopped
1 tbsp dark brown sugar or honey
2 tbsp tamari or soy sauce
Finely grated zest and juice of 1 lime
A good pinch of sea salt
For the jerk seasoning, crush the allspice and peppercorns well using a pestle and mortar, then tip into a food processor. Add the thyme, spring onions, garlic, chilli, sugar or honey, tamari or soy, lime zest and juice, and salt. Blitz to a fairly smooth paste.
To prepare the chicken, pull the legs away from the body slightly and lift the wings out from under the bird to help hot air circulate during cooking. Rub the spice paste all over the bird. Leave to stand in a cool place but out of the fridge for about an hour to come up to room temperature and allow the flavours to penetrate. Preheat the oven to 180°C/Fan 160°C/Gas 4.
Put the chicken into a roasting tin and roast for 30 minutes, then pour the water or wine into the base of the tin. Return to the oven and roast for a further 50–60 minutes. To check that the bird is cooked, pull at one leg. It should come away from the body with relative ease and the juices between the leg and breast should run clear. If the leg is reluctant and the juices still pink, give it another 10 minutes and test again. When you’re happy your bird is done, leave it to rest in a warm place for 10–15 minutes.
Tip up the bird so any juices from inside run out into the roasting tin. Work these into the spicy sauce that’s formed in the tin. Serve the chicken with its juices and ‘rice and peas’.