Have you tried Fresh Fennel Relish? Inquiring minds want to know.

A reader recently wrote in and asked me what they could do with a jar of Fresh Fennel Relish from Stonewall Kitchen. Well, chickadees, I was caught with my hand NOT in the mustard jar, to badly mix metaphors. I currently don't and never have owned a jar of this particular relish. I sent Mr. Mustard condiment hunting, but it's been two days and he hasn't returned, so I may give up and order it and a new husband online. But, I have tried other relishes AND I know my fennel root so this is what I replied:

Relishes are great and versatile, so you can do any number of things with them. Try them on crackers with a sweet cheddar cheese. The cheese often makes a nice base for the flavors and textures in the relish. And as fennel is a root, it might be really good mixed with a cooked beet salad. I think the fennel and beet would complement each other. Since it's late summer, it might also be nice as a finish on a sweet fish, like salmon or halibut. And chicken is such a great base food for almost anyone's condiment fantasies: mustards, mayonnaises, relishes. It can be cold or warm.

On the Stonewall Kitchen website, they also recommended trying their relishes with pasta. I don't know if the fennel might be too overpowering on its own, but it might go nicely with a mushroom ravioli.

Anyone out there tried Fresh Fennel relish? I'll post my findings as soon as they come in. In the meantime, I want a cheese sandwich with a nice relish for breakfast.

Condiment Grrl

An illegal condiment

It's against the law to sell or buy Cuban cigars in this country, but, mercifully, not condiments. Mr. Mustard, Baby Balsamic and I attended a lovely wedding last week that was a veritable festival of Cuba. The bride was a lovely young woman I had the good fortune to "mentor" 10 years ago and she did me proud when she sashayed down the aisle to Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" and into the arms of her handsome new husband, Alfredo, who hails from Cuba. A service in Spanish and English cemented their troth, then we hit the buffet. Baby Balsamic was a bit fussy, so Mr. Mustard, prepared me a plate chock-full of chicken and condiments. A tangy, sweet salsa full of that sweet white rooty fruit like yucca that I can never remember the name of. Unless it actually was yucca. Hmmm. And then this delicious green garlic sauce that was light, but exploded with flavor. Garlicky, but not too garlicky. Lots of other spices, tastes, ingredients mellowed the garlic. After finishing my first pile, I took my wine glass to the buffet table for another serving to more easily dip things into, because it was kind of runny. It was like green parsley had been tossed in a blender with a lot of garlic, then thinned with a melted plain yogurt.

A salsa band started up and the bride and groom led the crowd in a very fun and naughty salsa which had all the older guests laughing and reaching for their alleve.

I love my darling Baby Balsamic, but her neediness prevented me from grilling the caterers as to the ingredients in their sauce. After allowing her to inhale some cake, we carried her back to the car as the salsa music spilled into the night.

I googled "garlic sauce" and "Cuba" and came up with all kinds of recipes and variations on what they call "Mojo sauce." It seems it's one of those "do what you like and call it good" condiments, which I completely support. Here's a description: "Mojo Sauce is used as a marinade, warm or room temperature sauce or on sandwiches. It is the traditional Cuban National Sauce.' Many local variations are served in every home and public eatery in the Caribbean. Common variations in ingredients include: garlic, red pepper, jalapeño peppers, vegetable broths, tomato, Cubano peppers, scallions, lime and/or sour orange juice, vinegar, salt, pepper, cumin, cayenne pepper, oregano, minced onion, parsley, celery, wine, various spices such as allspice, thyme and cinnamon, etc."

So go nuts with whatever you like and it's the Cuban national sauce. I like it. Here's the funny part. They give a recipe for one and it includes "⅛ teaspoon Ac'cent™ Flavor Enhancer." And as we all know Accent is MSG. Considering this was a Seattle based catering company, I doubt they included MSG. Or I could blame my headache the next day on the MSG instead of the spirits I imbibed.

All I know is that I need a blender and I have a great sandwich sauce.

Condiment Grrl

Slumming in the Condiment World

You all should be very proud and very ashamed of me. I completed a the Danskin triathlon this last Sunday. Yay for Condiment Grrl! I swam half a mile, rode my bike for 12.5 miles, then ran for 3.2 miles. And all without a single bite of mustard to sustain me. My mother, who I affectionately refer to as Mama Salsa, came up from California to watch me cross the finish line, but she ended up chasing after Baby Balsamic. C'est la vie.

After the race, though, after the race, I hungered, deeply and truly. I was exhausted, I had Mama Salsa and Baby Balsamic in the car and Baby Balsamic also hungered. I had no food and an hour long drive in front of me. What to do? Then I saw the evil, ubiquitious Golden Arches. Now, let it be known that I have NEVER taken my child to McDonald's. NEVER. Mr. Mustard has taken her there a couple times, when I haven't been home for dinner, but not me. But they beckoned and I answered their siren call, procuring chicken nuggets for myself and a Happy Meal for Baby Balsamic (the toy was some kind of pocket doll that came with her own Iron Maiden in plastic. Very strange.) Now, the question in all of your minds - what did I dip the nuggets into? Well, I'm a mixer and a matcher by trade, so I had a ranch dip and a chipotle bbq sauce on the ready. Of course, I was driving and I should know better than to dip and drive. Luckily, Mama Salsa was on hand to help me out. She peeled back the little cups of corporate dipping sauces and held them up for me to dip into while I drove.

I quickly forgave her for all my childhood traumas, including the time she ripped up my Rod Stewart poster.

Now, I'm perfectly aware that McDonald's dips are pretty much all chemicals, no real substance, but they have PERFECTED those chemicals so that my taste buds exploded in tiny orgasms each time I crunched down onto a juicy nugget covered in creamy ranch with a sweet, vaguely hot underbelly of chipotle bbq. I'm sure it had nothing to do with all the exertion I had just undergone. But the sauces weren't half-bad; they were actually pretty good. Once in a while. I think if you had them everyday, you would quickly develop Type 2 Diabetes because they are loaded with sugar.

I'm still recovering from both experiences, although I think I cleansed my pallet tonight with my Norman Bishop Cranberry Mustard.

Don't Dip and Drive,

Condiment Grrl

Forgotten trips, sad little relishes

I was going to attempt to create a second Ye Olde Condiment Haus, Part the Two blog entry, but I really failed at the Renaissance Faire to find any foodstuff remotely approaching a medieval condiment. Of course, it was difficult to really research anything with Baby Balsamic demanding to stay forever by the jousting pen admiring the "hersies."

One day, I may have to sell off my condiment collection to pay for speech therapy, but we're just taking it day by day for now.

While gazing into my refridgerator tonight, my eye was caught by a fetching jar of Sweet Olive Relish that I purchased in a cute little store in an even cuter little town in New Hampshire last year. I had wandered in, just to grab a bottle of water, but my eye was caught by this item. I had not had a relish of this variety before, the ingredients included green olives and pomegranate juice, how could I resist? It didn't hurt that the jar was attractive:

 

Haven't my food photography skills improved? Okay, okay, I copied the picture from the website of the makers of this fyne relish (you can take the girl out of the Renaissance Faire, but you can't take the Faire out of the girl): Mt. Vikos. I also purchased some creamy bleu cheese and crispy crackers, then proceeded to buckle down on the curb and wrench open my new jar. The air was humid and warm; the reaching branches of old trees met over the rooftops of giant Colonial houses; a car went by with a bumpersticker reading "Liberal and Proud of it." When I bit into the cracker with the blue cheese and relish, I realized the ultimate New England trifecta of gourmet dining and attractive scenery, embellished with the occasional uber-liberal bumpersticker attached to a Subaru.

My crazy German naturopath ordered me off dairy right after that vacation. And wheat. And soy. And eggs. So, there's been little bleu in my life during the last year. And that makes me bleu (heh). Which means the relish has not been able to live up to its full potential. Although, while I was just typing, trying to work a poignant reference to the Todd Rundgren song I was listening to, "A Dream Goes on Forever." I realized that this relish might go quite well with goat cheese. In fact, I think that would be quite savory. It's not bleu cheese, but it will have to do until my crazy German naturopath deems me healthy enough for bleu cheese. Of course, she keeps assuring me that I will love my steady diet of grated beets over spinach and I won't want anything bad ever again.

A Dream Goes on Forever.

Condiment Grrl 

Ye Olde Condimentee Haus, Part The One

Baby Balsamic and I ventured forth, good gentlefolk, unto the wild lands of Purdy beyond the Sound of Puget to a Ye Olde Renaissance Faire. Now, I have some experience with these places, having worked at one during the summer years ago. And even though time has passed and it's a different Faire in a different state, I would swear that the same people were there jousting and rousting and pushing ample white flesh into leather constraints. Lots of bowing and scraping and "welcome fyne people blah blah blah." Honestly, I would have been happier if they had more tents up to save us from the Washington heat or to simulate an English summer. Gimme some shelter, people. And of course, like with any outdoor festival, there was food, food, food galore. Mostly sausages and curly fries. Snow cones. Tarted up county fair food, to be precise. And no Renaissancie condiments, although I'm guessing that during the short, brutish lives the people led then, there really wasn't time to be mulling the dill and mustard seed into the fine paste of mustard. Lots of grilled onions and sauerkraut. Plastic packages of relish and mayonnaise.

Sigh,

Ye Olde Condiment Grrl

Meta-Meta-Meta Condiments and Tequila

I got my hair cut and dyed the other night. I wanted more of a deep salsa red, but the hairdresser, yanking and pulling at my thick hair ("I can make you PRETTY!"), refused and gave me more of a milk chocolate mole with a scoche of ruby red cocktail sauce. I like it very much. Keeping with my theme, Mr. Mustard asked me to pick up a jar of salsa for our little taco bar for two.

I stared at the wide selection and fondled jar after jar, searching for the perfect mixture of tomatoes, onions, chiles and spices that would accent turkey burger filling and black beans. Newman's Own actually makes some good stuff and it all goes to good charities. But it's hit or miss and I really wanted my meal to be perfect, to celebrate my new hairdo. Now, I must admit that I, like many consumers, am easily swayed by a decent label. So, I was quite taken with this label (you'll see that my food photography skills have not improved):
 

I liked the Circus/Day of the Deadish art and I especially liked this word, TEQUILA. If you look closely, you'll see "Made with Tequila Nacional." Mmmm...Tequila. A great alcoholic vehicle for salt and lime. And added to salsa, it adds a nice finish to the subtle burn of a chunky salsa.

Now, tonight at a work barbeque, the wife of my feudal lord (or my manager), inadvertently created a meta-meta condiment. Since salsa could be twisted around to be a meta condiment. While cleaning up the rubble of the que, she spooned a reddish sauce into more reddish sauce in a jar. But she was spooning cocktail sauce into salsa. She gasped and said "Oops! I made an error!" and I quickly replied, "But is it an error? Is it ever an error?" So, we decided to try the new concoction with items intended for salsa and cocktail sauce: shrimp and tortilla chips. In both cases, I thought the horseradish tickle and the sweet tomato sauce blended well into the spicier salsa.

But, then again, I'm a special case.

I generously provided a range of condiments from my private collection, including G*D mustard and Holy Jalapeno relish. I explained my relationship to each one and described how many I had at home. Some people appeared to enjoy my strange array; others preferred to stick with the standard French's and ketchup (You know who you are).

I think they think I'm a little weird. That's okay.

My condiments love me.

Condiment Grrl 

Cilantro and Oysters - a furtive, but delicious, love match

Oysters. Succulent creatures meant to be consumed hot or cold with a variety of condiments on top. Neptune's little platters of goodness, delivered to prove to us that Neptune does love us and only wishes to spread good will with his giant trident.

I first discovered the joys of oyster slurping after I moved up to the Pacific Northwest and was taken by a male friend to a Seafood Grill in Pioneer Square. Cocktail sauce glimmered on one and a red wine vinaigrette on the other. I knew anything that held condiments so lovingly could not be bad, but my mouth needed more convincing. I slurped the first oyster toward me, suctioning off the bulk of the sauce, then inadvertently spitting the oyster across the table at my companion. Luckily, he was a Microsoft employee and not well-dressed. I have since learned to inhale a dozen with the best of them. I can close my eyes and still see a beautiful platter of crushed ice, twelve oysters in a circle and little shiny cups of sauce. Wedges of lemon always standing by to be of service.

These days, we've been advised against eating raw oysters from Washington due to one of those nasty bacteria that proliferate in hot weather: bad oysters.

This weekend, Mr. Mustard, Baby Balsamic and myself attended an annual Oyster barbeque given by the deliriously talented folks of theater simple. Every year for the past fifteen years, they've fired up the grill and barbequed dozens and dozens and dozens of oysters for friends, family and no-good theater-types who show up with their adorable children trained to dance like monkeys for free food. My favorite moment is always when I first arrive and I approach the barbeque to see what saucy goodies they've created to cook onto the oysters. There's usually a garlic butter, a barbeque sauce, and this year, my favoritest ever, a cilantro/lime juice/ginger concoction that still gives me the distant shivers.

Cilantro. You either love or hate this flavor. I, obviously, happen to love it. And I especially love it with lime juice (like in freshly made salsa. Yum.) And the ginger gave it an exotic undertone that turned the oyster into a portal to the far east. I asked the intrepid grill-meister, Andrew, how he made it and he pretty much gave me the usual, secret recipe song and dance: "Oh, I just put lime juice over some cilantro. Then add ginger."

Uh-huh.

Well, my new mission is to recreate this sauce and to try it on a variety of sea creatures. I won't rest until I can call this sauce my own.

Condiment Grrl

Grounds for Divorce

I hesitate to post the below numbers for fear Mr. Mustard will get right on the phone to a powerful divorce attorney, but my devotion to my condiment cause comes first. I just tallied the number of condiments on "active duty" in my kitchen. Prepare yourself:

Refridgerator:

9 Jars of Mustard
11 Jars of a variety of miscellaneous sauces (Teriyaki/Pineapple, Maple/Chipotle, etc.)
3 Jams/Jellies
5 Salsas
6 Jars of Olives/Pickles/Pepperincini
3 Mayonnaise/Mayonnaise variations
3 Relishes
1 Jar of Pesto (that scares me. I need more Pesto.)
1 Jar of Chutney (also scary. I didn't even like this Chutney.)
3 Ketchups
7 Salad Dressings (this includes two open jars of Annie's Goddess Dressing.)

Kitchen Table/Shelf:

8 Vinegars
3 Miscellaneous sauces (inluding Worchestshire)
3 Oils
12 Hot Sauces

And I'm not including the jars and bottles "on the bench," waiting for their chance to come into play.

And I don't regret a one.

Condiment Grrl