Cardamom

I shop for groceries at an international farmers’ market. Their spice section takes up an entire wall, and unlike the American couple-of-tablespoons-in-a-can supermarket product, their spices come in containers of four ounces or more. And they’re reasonably priced; sensory travel at bargain rates!

One spice I hadn’t experienced much before I discovered this place is cardamom. They sell lots, because my city has a large Indian population. A most exotic and exalted flavoring, it is one of the most expensive, too – only saffron and vanilla pods cost more.

In my exploration of perfume notes, I come across cardamom all the time. It’s in Ormonde Jayne’s “Man” and “Woman,” two of the most gorgeous fragrances out there. Jean-Claude Ellena used it in his India-themed Un Jardin Apres La Mousson of course, but it’s also in his Eau Parfumee au The Vert. It’s in L’Artisan’s Timbuktu and Chanel’s Pour Monsieur, Donna Karan’s Chaos and Malle’s Cologne Bigarade. Basenotes lists 331 scents that use it (and I’m sure there are more).

A little research opens all the history books, which is so often the case with spices. Cardamom, a member of the Zingiberaceae (ginger) family, is hugely ancient, so ancient that its root word is hard to define. The early Egyptians used it as a dentifrice. In Asia, it’s still used medicinally, for problems of the mouth, throat and lungs. The Vikings brought it home from Constantinople, where it is now a key ingredient of aquavit. The Arabs called it an aphrodisiac, and it’s still brewed with coffee throughout the Middle East. The Greeks and Romans made perfumes with it.

There are three forms: green is the most common, and is harvested in India. Not much makes it out for export, because it’s so common a food ingredient there. What we get in the U.S. is usually grown in Central America. The black form, which is a little more smoky and camphorous than the green, is part of garam masala – and also shows up in Dolce & Gabana’s “D + G By For Men” and Paco Rabanne’s “Black XS.” There’s also a white form, used mostly in Scandinavia for baking. And it’s a common ingredient of the spiced tea masala chai.

So what does pure cardamom smell and taste like? Primary research time:

The pod, when chewed, is papery and tough. I can see why it was once used as a toothbrush. The black seeds inside contain the flavor. I chewed some of them and...man. There’s sweetness, quickly eclipsed by bitter lemon rind-like taste. Then comes menthol and camphor, a greenish Eucalyptus, and a slight numbing of the tongue. Smelling the crushed pods and seeds reveals the camphor, and when deeply inhaled it cools the nasal passages.

I left the crushed pods out overnight. Their scent this morning had a fruitiness that wasn’t there initially. It had mellowed, become more aromatic, but without the overwhelming Vicks Vap-O-Rub-like camphor of the just-crushed seeds.

It was Eau Parfumee au The Verte that renewed my interest in fine perfumery, which had been more or less dormant for years prior to that. I had no idea what the ingredients were and no desire to find out then; I just knew I loved the perfume. Smelling it now, with a mortar full of crushed cardamom pods alongside, I think: of course. Cardamom.

Perfumery is where we rediscover the world.



For a dessert from “Gourmet” that features cardamom as well as other perfume essences like oranges, bergamot, black tea, dried fruit (and vanilla, if you serve it over ice cream) called “Oranges and Prunes in Cardamom Tea Syrup” follow this link:

http://www.epicurious.com/recipes/food/views/Oranges-and-Fruits-in-Cardamom-Tea-Syrup-100871.

Cardamom photo by Kelly Cline.

About Cinnamon (and a recipe for Olfacta's Mulled Wine)

(Deadline for the drawing for Avery Gilbert’s book “What the Nose Knows” is Monday night, Dec 15th, at midnight US EST. Leave a comment and you’ll be entered!)


“Blow upon my garden, that the spices thereof may flow out.” Song of Solomon, 4:14

Cinnamon is the Queen of the “Christmas” spices; these include others like cloves, nutmeg and mace (which is the inner “skin” of the nutmeg.) All common cinnamons are ground from bark, but what we think of as cinnamon, at least in the U.S., isn’t really cinnamon. It’s cassia, a related plant with a tougher, thicker bark. Harvested in Southeast Asia, it’s simpler in composition than true cinnamon, and contains a bit of coumarin, a controversial perfume ingredient. (This is why children are generally not allowed to eat cinnamon sticks.)

Other types of cinnamons and cassias in general use include Vietnamese – the flavor of the American candy the “Red-Hot” – and is it ever! – and Chinese cassia, even stronger than the common cassia. A sub-species of that type, Korintje, is also a Chinese cassia (but is a little smoother.) Finally, there is Ceylon cinnamon. This is the “true” cinnamon, used in the UK and Mexico primarily, and is a bit citrusy and more complex than the other types. It’s also quite crumbly. If you see “cinnamon sticks,” they’re cassia. True cinnamon would crumble to bits during the packing and shipping process.

Mulled wine has been around for a long time, too. In Europe, most of the wine of the medieval period was so awful that spices were used to disguise its taste. (This is one reason spices were so highly prized in trade.) The nobility drank spiced wine routinely. Everybody else got beer or some sort of home-brew, and, if they ever got their hands on any spices, they saved them for use during the Christmas season.

A quick check at Basenotes reveals a number of perfumes that use cinnamon as an ingredient: Chaos, Cinnabar, CDG’s Parfum and White, Musc Ravageur, Noir Epices, Youth Dew and (have you guessed this one already?) Opium. (One of my favorites, Donna Karan’s “Black Cashmere,” isn’t listed, but I bet there’s some cinnamon in there somewhere.)

Here’s a recipe for Christmas Cheer, otherwise known as Mulled Wine, otherwise known as “Olfacta’s Holiday Punch.”

(I use Penzey’s (http://www.penzeys.com) “Mulling Spices,” but you could just mix your own, which would include:

Cracked cassia (cinnamon sticks) (crack them with a mallet) or cinnamon of your choice
Cracked Cloves
Allspice berries, slightly cracked
Cracked Cardamom Seed (or cardamom powder)
Mace (powdered)

(If you’re making your own mix, just remember that cloves are much stronger than the other spices here and adjust accordingly; also, use a light hand with the powdered ones.)

The Penzey’s recipe calls for 1 TBSP spices per bottle of wine, but I use twice that much, at least.

Some people use one of those little cheesecloth bags for the spices, but I prefer to just throw them in. Crush them slightly, inhale deeply, and then mix them into:

1.5 liter bottle of ordinary red table wine (or more, just increase all the other stuff too)
Brown sugar to taste (I use about 1/2 cup) per large bottle of wine
1 cup ordinary brandy per large bottle of wine (Olfacta’s secret ingredient)

(The brandy can be warmed separately and used to spike the mulled wine to taste.)

Simmer over low heat in a covered pot for at least 20 minutes, or keep warm in a crock-pot. Don’t let it boil, ever! (For a party, simmer uncovered and refresh everything once in a while.)

Pour through a tea strainer into coffee mugs, garnished with a cinnamon stick.

Holiday visitors love this!