We write this article in the midst of a global pandemic: COVID-19. Who knows when you’re reading it. You do, of course. That’s silly. But, we don’t. That may be incorrect because we use Google Analytics and pay attention to the website’s traffic. What a mess. Let’s escape the minutia. This article is about condiments, not the calendar.
We’ve been sheltering at home for weeks. That means a lot of home cooking, which is fine because we enjoy the culinary arts. Preparing three meals a day takes planning—also creativity. We get bored with the staples. We get busy with teleworking. We’re trying to stretch our dollar and food supply. Our savior has been a pantry stocked with high quality condiments: olive oil, soy sauce, saba, and Irish butter. They deliver in a pinch with big flavor.
Olive Oil
Our wife’s grandmother recently died at age 98. She was 100% Italian. Her family emigrated from a small village in Sicily. We did a family tree and were amazed that generation after generation came from that same village. We got a little obsessed with Sicilian food. She had made Italian cookies for our wedding and holidays. Last Christmas, the first without her, we vowed to make them, and because we’re eccentric, we limited ourselves to Sicilian recipes.
We've been striving to bring some of our wife's grandmother's ancestral culture into our kitchen, especially for the holidays. These biscotti di mandorla, or soft almond cookies, are authentically Sicilian. They are also naturally gluten-free.
When we decided to invest in high quality olive oil, we knew this: Sicilian or bust. We sampled several offerings and landed on Papa Vince Extra Virgin Olive Oil. The olives are harvested from a single source with the harvest date printed on the label. Connoisseurs, we aren’t, but this stuff tastes rich and buttery with peppery afternotes. It has a fresh, earthy smell. Amazon customers, who in significant numbers are discerning, award it an impressive 4.8 out of 5 stars. It costs about $43 a bottle.
We combine it with grated parmesan cheese and fresh pepper and dip homemade bread into it. We slice cucumbers and tomatoes, toss them in olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and season the salad with salt and pepper. We let it sit for 30 minutes, so it marinates. After eating the cucumbers and tomatoes, we also dip bread in the leftover juices.
Soy Sauce
A few years ago, we watched a captivating episode of Salt Fat Acid Heat on Netflix where they waxed poetically about the splendor of authentic soy sauce and showed a Japanese craftsman, named Yasuo Yamamoto, brewing it and aging it in barrels.
Everything—all that magic—happened in this old, wooden barn and was done by hand and with traditional tools and the help of microorganisms. According to the craftsman, only one percent of today’s soy sauce is produced this way.
We acquired an 18-ounce bottle of “Tsuru Bisiho” from Yamaroku, which had been barrel-aged for four years, and was relatively affordable at $33. It’s got a layered umami flavor and a slightly sweet, but definitely fermented, aroma. It is thinner—less viscous—than the industrially produced stuff.
Almost every Sunday, we prepare a breakfast of this simple omelet with soy sauce, sriracha, Everything but The Bagel Sesame Seasoning from Trader Joe’s, and scallions.
Saba Mosto d’uva Cotto
What’s saba? It’s reduced grape must. Still confused? Don’t feel badly. We only learned of it recently. Saba is the juice of wine grapes which are cooked down to form a syrup. They are different grapes then those used for traditional grape juice. If grape must were fermented, it’d become balsamic vinegar, but it isn’t fermented, so it remains sweet.
Saba shines drizzled over burrata. It tastes of caramel and fig and can be used in place of balsamic glaze where you don’t need acidity. Our wife puts it on salads, roasted vegetables and even pizza. You can snag a bottle of Acetaia Leonardi Saba for about $33.
Irish Butter
Like every other human on Instagram, and some non-humans, we’ve used the quarantine to bake bread. We own the Zojirushi Home Bakery Virtuoso, the best damn bread machine money can buy. After making a large batch of biga starter, which can be refrigerated for two weeks, we bake a loaf, eat on it for a couple days, then bake the next one. On repeat. In perpetuity.
Perhaps the best loaf we've ever baked, the MVP of this olive oil bread was the week-old biga starter. It delivered a delightful sponge with plenty of moisture.
Nothing beats a slice of warm, spongy bread with Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter and Maldon Sea Salt Flakes. It’s euphoria. We have to be mindful, though. We’ll cut off a slice, devour it, cut off another slice. Next thing, we awake from an almost blackout stage to discover we’ve consumed the whole thing.
Irish butter has a higher milkfat content and less water than American butter. It’s creamer and more decadent and spreadable.
