Orgeat Syrup---And Why French Friends Are Really Your Frienemies

I have a friend who once dated a French man.  He said that the experience was SO horrible that even just hearing someone speaking French...  With that accent…

“They’re so rude.  I can’t.  I just can’t.”

Ah!---the French. 

I have a dear friend from Paris.  He complains about everything.  Particularly his food.  Too much salt.  Too much oil.  Too much garlic.  Too much spice.  Sometimes he just rolls his eyes, points to his plate, and says, “I mean…” and then makes a gesture to indicate that he has no words. 

“Just…just try it.  I want you to taste it.”

So I dutifully grab my fork…

He’s my friend, so I always agree with him. 

But just between you and me…

Bear in mind, this is a French man who just two weeks ago drug me into a local cookie shop KNOWING it was going to be horrible. 

“I want you to try these cookies.”

“I’ve had their cookies.  They’re not that great.”

“No.  You have to taste these cookies.”

Did he not just hear what I said?

He then proceeded to spend $15 on a bag of cookies that he knew he wasn’t going to like just to prove a point.  A point upon which, I ALREADY AGREED!

And don’t think he didn’t roll his eyes in plain view of the entire staff.

Thankfully, he waited till we got outside to actually taste the cookies. 

I was thinking we’d find a cozy bench outside and leisurely sit down and lay out the cookies and taste them and compare notes…

Oh no.

No sooner did we walk out the door, than he broke open the bag, tore off a hunk of oatmeal cookie and said, “This is shit.  You know what we call this in France?  Un étouffe-chrétien.”

“Yes.  I know.  Je sais, je sais...”

I know because he first told me this three years ago.  It’s one of those odd French expressions that only makes sense to them.  

Yes, I said “them”.

It basically means that something is so dry it would choke a Christian.

I have no idea why Christians are the most difficult religious group to choke.  Perhaps it has something to do with that tiny Communion wafer they eat once a week.   

Thankfully, this same friend thinks I’m a wonderful little baker and cook.  If I have achieved nothing else in my life, a VERY picky French man (“I’m not picky.  I’m particular.”) thinks I have The Right Stuff.

I try not to let him down.

So he will be VERY happy when I bring him a glass of my homemade Almond Water tomorrow!

Last time I made it, he downed four glasses in half an hour.

Let me trace the origins of this wonderful concoction for you.

Several years ago, when I saw a new product called “Almond Water” in a local organic market---naturally, I had to give it a try.  It was one of the most delicious and refreshing beverages I’d ever tasted!

But at five bucks a pop…

I was going to have to figure out how to make this myself.

My online search immediately led me to something called Orgeat Syrup---usually pronounced. OR-ZHA.  Kind of like Zsa Zsa Gabor.

And no, it’s not Hungarian.  It’s French.  It used to refer to something that translated as “barley water”---as it was originally made from barley.  I’ve never tried to make it from barley, but I don’t envision it being quite as tasty---or even tempting.

“Hey!  Would you like a cold refreshing glass of barley water?”

Probably wouldn’t get too many takers.

So the savvy, gastronomically-inclined French decided to one-up themselves.  In short, they complained openly to each other.  "C'est merde!"

It’s now pretty much exclusively made with almonds.

It’s also the stuff you put in a Mai Tai or a Japanese cocktail---though oftentimes, a bartender’s Orgeat Syrup will contain vodka.  Because…well, why not?

This version is alcohol-free and kid-friendly.  Even the French will drink it without complaint.

You’re going to start by basically making almond milk.

You can use whole almonds, but I prefer the slivered almonds to give it a beautiful white hue.  If you’re buying in bulk, 1 1/3 cups.

Start by taking a bag of slivered almonds and soaking them in cold water for about an hour.

Drain the water and put your almonds into a food chopper or processor.  I used my handy little food chopper for this job.  They don’t need to be super-fine.  Just chopped into little pebble-sized pieces is fine.

Then, put this into a pot with four cups of cold water, a cup of sugar, and bring to a boil.  

One cup sugar to four cups of water?  Doesn’t sound like a syrup to me, you may say.  Well, if you like things extra-sweet, you can add an extra half cup of sugar.  But almonds are fairly sweet on their own.  Trust me on this one.   

Be careful not to let the pot boil-over or you’ll have a sticky mess on your hands.

Let this cool down to room temperature and pour the whole mess into a blender.  I had to do mine in two batches. 

Then you’re going to set-up a large mesh-strainer over a pot.  Pour the mixture into the strainer and use a spatula to squeeze out all the liquid.

Now we’re going to strain it a second time.  With cheesecloth.  You may have to do this in batches, but squeeze out the water over the mesh-strainer.  I SWEAR I did this.  Pardon for the lack of a photo.  I was trying to do too many things at once.  But I swear there was cheesecloth involved.  It will still be a tiny bit gritty---but that’s okay!  That’s good, in fact.  That means it’s homemade!

PS---do NOT try to whip up a batch of croutons while doing this.

  

If anything could choke a Christian----it would be the charred-beyond-recognition cubes of bread that burned like Jeanne d’Arc in the oven just two inches away from my kneecaps as I strained.  Go the Zen route.  Focus.  Bask in the moment. 

Once you’ve got all the liquid squeezed out---now you’re going to add your flavorings.  Traditionally, you use something called Orange Blossom Water.  But I ran out of it this winter after baking Lady Grey Tea Cookies.  However, I’ve found that in a pinch, Orange Extract does the same job.  It's just more concentrated and less floral. 

You’re going to add:

¼ teaspoon Orange Extract (or 1 teaspoon of Orange Blossom Water)

¼ teaspoon Rose Water

1 ½-2 teaspoons Almond Extract

Why are you adding Almond Extract to almonds?

Well---here’s the deal.  There are two kinds of almonds.  Sweet and bitter.  The almonds we all eat out of a jar, in a trail mix, or cracked out of their shell----those are sweet almonds.

Bitter almonds are actually illegal in the US.  They contain extremely high amounts of cyanide.  Need a pick-me-up snack at work?  A handful of these could kill you. 

Happily, this toxin is removed by cooking.  Bitter almonds are mostly grown in Asia and the Middle East and used to make almond extract---which has a slightly different flavor than sweet almonds.  Ever notice the cherry-undertones in coconut macaroons?  

That’s the bitter almond talking.

Once you add your flavorings, simply pour this stuff into a bottle and refrigerate.  It will keep for about a month in your fridge.  Maybe longer.  But a month is the longest it’s lasted in this house.

And I always know EXACTLY how long something has been in my icebox because I’ve worked in restaurants so long that I label and date everything.  Total dork.

To make almond water, you’re going to pour about a tablespoon or two of this into a glass.  Add ice and water.

VOILA!

Now---what you’re going to have leftover is what’s called “almond meal”.  DO NOT throw this away!  This is going to make a delicious almond paste-slash-marzipan.

Warp it up in some plastic wrap and stick it in your fridge.

And yeah---I labeled and dated that, too.

I’ll tell you what to do with this some other time.

Or as they say in France---

À bientôt!

Harissa Is The New Sriracha

A while back, several of my hipster friends got their faux-hawks and handlebar mustaches in a knot over the possibility that the company that makes the popular hot sauce, Sriracha, may have to shut down.  A complaint was issued to Hoy Fong Foods in California ordering them to halt production due to grumbles from the locals about “watery and itchy eyes” due to the fumes emitting from the factory.   Judges went back and forth.  A mad rush on Sriracha ensued at supermarkets all over this great nation.

But as someone who makes her own hot sauce---I had nothing to fear but fear itself!

And frankly, homemade hot sauce is WAY better than anything you’ll find on a supermarket shelf.

Harissa is the buffalo sauce of the Middle East.

You’re not shaking a few drops on your plate to get the hotness going---you want your food coated in this stuff.  It provides heat AND flavor.

Harrisa seems to have been birthed in Tunisia, and has spread all over the Middle East from Morocco to Tunisia to Israel.  It’s beloved by all religions and ethnic groups and (at least in New York City) you can now find jars and tubes of the stuff in specialty markets.

But unlike Tabasco. Sriracha, and other bottled sauces---harissa isn’t a brand name.  Recipes for harissa vary not only from country-to-country---but from family-to-family.  It can be either mashed like Sambal or pureed like Sriracha.  Needless to say, homemade is best.

I’ve been told that I should bottle my homemade harissa and sell it.  I immediately reply, “Thank you, but I will NEVER do that.”

You have to set up as a small business with the state, apply for permits, set-up a Tax ID #, send samples of your product to a lab in Albany, become a member with a community kitchen, build a website, design packaging, register as a corporation, get a lawyer…

How about I just give you my recipe instead.

Harissa should be on the Scoville level of a Buffalo Sauce---definitely spicy, but not so much that it overpowers the taste of the dish.  What you’re going to get here is a spicy (but not fire-breathing) sauce with a LOT of flavor that you can use to smear across everything from your scrambled eggs to a turkey sandwich to some roasted cauliflower.

Let’s start with the chilies.

I have a little problem with my addiction to dried chilies.  Happily, I live near several Spanish markets and can find them quite easily.  And unless you’re living in the cul-de-sac of Whitetown, U.S.A.---you can find them, too.  They’re there.  You just haven’t noticed them. Usually somewhere near the produce section or in the corner near the Goya products.

“What is Goya?” you ask. 

Sigh. 

It’s the Spanish Food section that most white people quickly wheel their shopping cart past on their way to the more expensive (and equal in quality) Caucasian brands.

But there’s AWESOME stuff in that aisle!   I’ve been mocked for my love of Goya products.  But, to paraphrase Gertrude Stein, “A lentil is a lentil is a lentil.”

Unless you get into the fancy French Puy lentils, and then…

But what are those McCormick brand Dried Chili Flakes you buy at the supermarket?

Um….you buy some dried chilies and put them in your food processor or simply crush them with a knife.

And scene.

Okay.  Let’s begin.  You’re going to start making harissa by roasting some red peppers.

Four if they’re big, six if they’re small.

I can’t give you a cup size.  This is not a bra-fitting.

No big to-do.  Wash them and put them on a pan and in the oven at around 400-425 degrees.  Turn them around a few times over the course of the hour-or so.  Pretty simple.

Meanwhile, you’re going to soak some dried chilies.

Do NOT be afraid of these things.  Play with them.  Get to know them.  They are your friends.  

I tend to go strong on the Guajllos with some Arbol and Ancho and Serrano tossed in, as well.

If you’re not familiar with different chilies….start playing with them!  Buy one or two (they’re only maybe 2 dollars a bag), look them up online, find out their Scoville level (that indicates their heat potential), their country of origin, their flavor profile…  I seem to have acquired an accidental collection SO carefully tended to and organized that a chef saw a photo of my blossoming chili anthology and said, "Wow.  You're so tidy.  I need you in MY kitchen!"

If you wear contacts, have a tendency to touch your eye, or have skin sensitivity to chilies…  Wear gloves, use dishwashing soap on your hands, or lemon or lime juice, or simply take a long hot bubble bath after handling.   

It’s not complicated.  Take a kitchen scissors (or a knife), slice off the top of the chili, and shake out the seeds into the trash can (or try to plant them, if you like). You never know how your garden grows.  If you want it SUPER spicy…  Just know that the more seeds you leave in, the spicier it will be.

But I like mine flavorful AND spicy---so I snip and trim and shake out a fair amount of the seeds.

Pop these into a pot, pour boiling water over them, put a lid on things to keep it hot inside-----and just let that sit while you turn the red peppers.

You’re going to end up with soft, fragrant chilies AND their cooking water.  Do NOT discard!  This is going to help you later.

Scrape the skins off your roasted red peppers, root out as many seeds as possible, and toss the flesh of the pepper with the re-hydrated chilies together in a blender or food processor with about a quarter cup of the chili cooking water. 

Now, chop two cloves of garlic and add that to the mix in the blender.

And here is where it gets fun.

Party In The Pantry!!!!

I’m fully aware that my food connections and simple lust for ingredients has possibly made my spice cabinet a bit different from the average person’s larder…

My spice cabinet is like the hull of a Dutch East India ship in the 1700s---without the slaves and smallpox, of course.  Just lots and lots of spices!

Here's what I added to my mix:

Olive oil (about 3 tablespoons---need not be extra virgin)

Teaspoon lemon juice

1/2 teaspoon cumin

1/2 teaspoon ground coriander

1/4 teaspoon of smoked sea salt

1/4 teaspoon of a dried chili powder called "sudanya".  It appears to be Israeli and was a gift from a friend.  I imagine cayenne would do in its place.

!/2 teaspoon of Dried Persian Lemon

What is Persian Lemon?  For starters, it's a lime native to the Middle East.  It's fermented and dried in the sun and often ground into a powder.  It has a sour, yet earthy taste that balances the brightness of the red peppers and the heat of the chilies.  

If you can't get your hands on some, it's not the end of the world.  But if you can find some in a specialty spice shop or online, don't hesitate to drop a few dollars.  You won't be sorry.

If you like more of a rough texture to your harissa, you can skip the food processor and use a big mortar and pestle all old skool. But I like mine creamy, so I blend till smooth. 

But feel free to play with the measurements and ingredients, taste it for flavor, and make it your own. It should be YOUR hot sauce.     

Keep refrigerated and it will last about two weeks.  Mine goes quickly as I actually have a list of people to text and let them know, "I made harissa today.  Saved you some.  Stop by my work tomorrow and pick some up, if you want!" 

You will never go back to Sriracha again!

    

How I Made Lavender Lemonade and Lived To Tell the Tale...

Half a block away from my apartment is a little organic market.

For someone like me, who makes her own ketchup, this may sound like a good thing.

But, to be honest, I’ll do pretty much anything to avoid going in there.

Don’t get me wrong.  Despite its tiny size, the smart little shop is stocked with fresh and healthy options.  It’s a dream-like hideaway amidst a neighborhood full of fast food joints, slices of pizza, and restaurants that specialize in arroz con pollo.

It’s just….

The woman who owns the shop is THE Most Miserable Woman in the World.

I will never forget the day she snapped at me, “What?  You don’t like my miso?”

And then there was the time I was looking for fresh, organic lentils.  The ones I’d bought at the supermarket wouldn’t sprout.  My friends began joking that I had “old, dried-up lentils”.

Oh!----the facile sexual innuendos I endured….

So when I asked the “nice lady” at the health food store if the lentils were fresh….

“Fresh?  They’re dried beans.  What do you want?”

“But….I know.  I know they’re dried.  But will they sprout?”

“Of course they’ll sprout,” she barked.  “Do you want them or not?”

So I bought them, because she was scary.  And in all fairness, they DID sprout.  But when I was looking for tea tree oil…

“It’s tea tree oil.  That’s all you need to know.  There you go.”

I won’t say the name of her shop.  I’m sure it’s hard to be a small business owner.

But with all the little drawers of herbs, sachets of stimulating teas, and bottles of organic elixirs…

SHE’S MISERABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

She ruins my day.

She’s not a happy person. 

Seething anger is running lava-like from her pores.

She IS Mount Vesuvius.

Upon entering her store, you must be prepared to meet your fate of transforming into a Pompeian plaster cast made from the ash deposits of her rage.

Signed, Pliny the Younger.

So how does a woman surrounded by health and wellness become such a nasty old crone?

I have no idea.

I don’t want to get that close to the volcano.

Recently, I needed some beeswax.

Why?

Well, it’s none of your….

Sorry.  I couldn’t help myself.

But I needed beeswax.  Coming back from the post office, I found myself right in front of her shop.

Oh god help me.

I dreaded going in there.  What means of excoriation would I suffer now?

It was like that moment in a horror film where the crowd at the movie theatre yells out, “Don’t open the door!!!  Bitch, don’t open the damn door!!!!!!!!!!!”

I opened the door.

I seem to recall the eerie ring of a little bell…

A black shop cat scurried deftly past my feet.

I surveyed the room.  Le Miserable was nowhere in sight.  There was a young clerk working that day.  She didn’t race from behind the counter to accost me, so I took my time looking around.  Finally, I got up the nerve to approach the counter. 

“Hi.  I’m looking for some beeswax.”

“No.  Not today,” she waved me off.  “We carry it.  But not today.”

I could tell she was but a few servings of brown rice away from turning into another Nosferatu.

I ran out of there like the time I accidentally found myself in a Santeria shop in Washington Heights.  I thought it was a spice store.

I don’t believe in voodoo.  But it’s not the sort of place you’re “just browsing”.

So today I needed essential lavender oil…

I was this close to hiding a cross in my bag and wearing garlic around my neck.

But I needed it, so I dared to enter the portals…

Happily, I managed to procure essential lavender oil without leaving a broken shell of a woman.  But the newest clerk gave me the fish eye when I walked in the door and had no enthusiasm for my latest jaunt into health and wellness. 

It’s like they’re all dead.  

Health Food Store of the Living Dead.

If you’re trying to eat healthy and you’re miserable, then you’re doing it wrong.

And that’s a whole other chapter. 

So, a few weeks ago, I stumbled across a post about Lavender Lemonade. 

I make lemonade a lot at home.  I just needed the lavender oil and was dreading the Haunted Health Food Store.

You don’t even need a recipe.  Just remember the numbers 666.

And after the Health Food Store story…how can you forget 666?

6 cups of water

6 lemons (juiced)

6 tablespoons of simple syrup.

What is simple syrup? 

Ever try to put sugar into iced tea and notice how some of the sugar doesn’t dissolve and winds up at the bottom of your glass?  It’s because sugar doesn’t dissolve as well in cold water. 

Simple syrup is basically 1 cup of water and 1 cup of sugar.  Put this in a pan over medium heat and dissolve.  When cool, put it in the fridge and you can use it for everything from iced tea to cocktails.

But then there’s RICH simple syrup.  2 cups of sugar to 1 cup of water.  It’s thicker, you use less (bartenders love it because it doesn’t water-down their cocktails), and it keeps longer in the fridge.

This is what I generally make.  And to make it a tiny bit healthier, I use organic pure cane sugar.  While normal simple syrup comes out clear----any kind of raw sugar syrup will be a bit darker.

So---666.  And then you put in one drop of essential lavender oil.

ONE DROP!!!

Yes.  I went thru all of this agony today for one drop.

If you do more than that, your lemonade will taste like the kitchen floor your Spanish-speaking grandma just mopped with Fabuloso floor cleaner.  No bueno.

Garnish with a few extra lemon slices and some mint sprigs---or lavender, if you like.

It’s delicious and refreshing and especially soothing after a bit of yoga!

And to take it one summer-y step further…

Lavender Lemonade Popsickles!

In my ice pop maker, it takes about 2 ½ cups of liquid to fill all 10 molds. 

But I only wanted four popsickles just for me---so I used one cup of the lemonade and added in an extra tablespoon of simple syrup.  Frozen treats need more sugar to allow the flavors to come thru.  Sugar is the salt of popsickles!

When they’re done, I take them out of the molds, wrap them in wax paper, and use a little sticky label to wrap them and note the flavor of popsickle.

Sure, I could have put some lemon slices or mint leaves into the popsickles to make them look all fancy---but who needs that stuff?

One of these days, when the Wicked Witch of the West at the Health Food store is melting, maybe I’ll bring her one of these.

Because there’s nothing like a lemonade popsickle on a hot day to remind you that, “There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home.”  

Confessions of A Vanilla Badass...

Sometimes, because I’m a quiet white lady and I only weigh about 108 pounds and a little bit older and I don’t have tattoos or crazy hair and I don’t do drugs and I’m nice and I enjoy giving out homemade dog treats to the local pups…

Sometimes, people see me as a “pushover”.  The sort of delicate flower you can step all over and they’ll just sit quietly in a corner of the garden and “take it”.

But I’m actually kind of a secret badass.  Maybe because I went to Catholic schools.  Two things you learn there---when you’re forced to wear uniforms, you’re forced to develop a PERSONALITY to distinguish yourself from the others.  And second---nuns may look all sweet and gentle…  But DO NOT mess with a nun.  

I repeat---DO NOT MESS WITH A NUN!!!
  

There's a mistaken belief that you need to “look dangerous” and “talk tough" to be a badass.  But the worst kind of badass you can encounter is a Vanilla Badass---someone like me---because you'll never see it coming.

My mother is a Vanilla Badass.  Doesn't drink, doesn't smoke, doesn't swear. Never has and never will.  You do NOT want to run into her in the dark alley of your life.

Because don't even THINK of taking advantage of my mother.  I've seen her do battle with every kind of "bad guy" imaginable.  She always wins.  After she's dispatched her latest assailant, she goes home to enjoy a cup of tea with rye bread and butter to watch the nightly news while her victim curls up like a partially-aborted fetus and whimpers under his mommy's bed.

Being a Vanilla Badass has NOTHING to do with skin color and EVERYTHING to do with your attitude towards life, your fellow man, and the world around you. 

Gentle, but with an inner strength.  An Iron Butterfly.

Last week, my friend Jana was in town from Bali where she works as a healer.  As we chatted over tea and coffee and a delicious lunch in the East Village---I learned SO much about Bali. 

Pros:  It’s BALI!!!  Beautiful weather, fresh fruits and vegetables, lots of yoga and relaxation.  Ah! 

Cons:  Bugs.  Huge ass bugs.  And lizards and snakes and lots of other creepy-crawly things…none of which seem to have any trouble getting into your home.

As I squirmed in my seat, Jana shrugged it off and explained, “After all, it IS the jungle.”

That's SO badass!!!  

It would take a LOT of yoga for me to be all namaste about that.

But she gave me two little gifts from Bali that thrilled me to no end---cocoa butter and Balinese vanilla beans!  Two products not only inexpensive in Bali, but perfected there.

One of the things Jana mentioned over lunch, “It’s weird, I can buy vanilla beans and vanilla bean paste and powdered vanilla….but I can’t find vanilla extract anywhere in Bali.”

It wasn’t till I was I was back home that it dawned on me.  I remembered something else she’d mentioned over lunch so I sent her an email.

“I have a feeling that the reason you can’t find vanilla extract in Bali is because it contains alcohol.  But I’ve made it at home and it’s easy! I’ll send you the recipe.”

What she had mentioned was that while Bali is fairly autonomous from the rest of Indonesia due to both its reliance on tourism and the fact that it’s always been less of a Muslim culture than a Hindu/Buddhist/animism culture steeped in thousands of years of ritual---it’s still technically a Muslim country and alcohol is…well, not exactly forbidden, but… 

You CAN import it---but with a tax of 300%. 

So let’s just say it’s “discouraged”.

Vanilla has a fascinating history. I’ve read TWO books about vanilla this past year---both written by the same woman.  Patricia Rain.  She’s known as “The Vanilla Queen” and probably the world’s expert on vanilla.  SO badass! 

As her website explains: 

“Patricia Rain is an author, educator, culinary historian, and owner of The Vanilla Company (www.vanillaqueen.com), a socially conscious, product-driven information and education site dedicated to the promotion of pure, natural vanilla, and the support of vanilla farmers worldwide.”

A few basic things I learned about vanilla to impress your friends:

1. The world’s two favorite ice cream flavors originated in Mexico---chocolate and vanilla.
2. What kind of plant does vanilla come from?  An orchid.  It's an orchid flower.  
3. WAY before Cortés hit the shores of the New World, the Mexican tribes had been cultivating vanilla for hundreds of years.  The invading Spaniards fell in love with its fragrance and (after killing thousands of Mexicans) took the delicious new spice back as booty to King Carlos of Spain.  Not “that” kind of booty.  The war kind.
4. Back in Europe, when they couldn't get the seeds to turn into anything even remotely resembling vanilla, they went back to Mexico and were all like, “Hey guys!  Sorry about killing all your friends and family.  But we can’t get these things to grow.  Could you do us a solid?”  The Totonoc Indians were still (understandably) a bit peeved about their whole civilization being destroyed so they pretended to not understand what the conquistadors were saying.  This would be the first documented instance of a Mexican pretending not to speak…well, in this case, Spanish.  You killed my family and now you want my help to grow crops?  Um…no hablo espagnol.  The problem?  Their colonial plantations didn’t have the right tiny little Mexican bees to pollinate the plants.  Mum’s the word. 
5. It wasn’t until 1841 when a slave on Madagascar’s Reunion Island off Africa, Edmond Albius, discovered that you could get vanilla if you hand-pollinated the orchids….  To this day, almost all vanilla is hand-pollinated.  
6. Bourbon Vanilla does NOT contain bourbon.  The vanilla-cultivating Bourbon Islands off Africa were colonized and named after the Bourbon line of the French throne.  But bourbon and vanilla ARE the perfect match!  
7. Artificial vanilla is actually----wait for it---cardboard.  It’s basically a wood by-product leftover after making pulp paper.  Another type of “vanillin” is made from coal tar.  So if you’re using it in your baked goods---you’re doing your dessert a disservice.  It’s the margarine of the spice world.  That is, unless you enjoy newspaper-flavored ice cream or you’re baking Christmas cookies for some shitty kid and you can’t bring yourself to give him the bag of coal he actually deserves. 
8. There are three basic Latin genus of vanilla-----Vanilla planifolia, V. tahitensis, and V. pompona.  The quality varies by farmer and producer, but Vanilla planifolia is generally considered the most fragrant.
9. Vanilla can take up to five years to produce a profit for the farmer.  Because of the time and labor involved, it is the world’s second (behind saffron) most expensive spice.
10. While it’s an easy guess that fresh vanilla beans would be best stored in the refrigerator----NOT!  They don’t like humidity and can easily get moldy.  The Bourbon ones, especially, will crystallize.

Upon squirreling my Balinese vanilla home, I promptly stored the beans in a test tube-like container I saved from the vanilla beans I bought at Fairway last summer.

I tucked the little jar into my larder and there the beans will remain----well, probably for only a week or two till I make Balinese Vanilla and Cocoa Butter Ice Cream!  I just have to figure out a recipe…

But making your own vanilla extract is easy!  The homemade version is really just infused vodka.

Okay---vodka in 50 words or less:

Vodka is vodka is vodka.  Don't let some bully bartender shame you into ordering the bogus "hand-crafted top shelf" stuff.  The house brand IS likely poorly-distilled, but the rest of it is all pretty much the same.  And if he's a good bartender---he knows this, too.

By the way, if you recall, the school bully was always the dumb kid.  Remember that next time someone tries to steal your lunch money.

My go-to vodka is a Polish brand simply called Wódka.  Last year I used it to make limoncello with Meyer Lemons.  Homemade hootch.  Pretty badass.

How to make vanilla extract?  Chop up some vanilla beans, put them in vodka, cover tightly, and let it rest in your cupboard for a few weeks.  Feel free to shake and sniff it occasionally just for fun. 

That’s it!

Here’s a tiny little jar of what I call Bourbon-Bourbon Vanilla Extract. 

It’s bourbon, infused with a bourbon vanilla bean.  Perfect for bread pudding!  To give you an idea how much vanilla to use----this is one vanilla bean in a tiny airplane bottle.  As long as the beans are submerged in the alcohol, they won’t go bad.  In fact, they’ll continue to age and flavor the alcohol.

Armed with the simple idea of infusing, you now have the tools to make everything from vanilla extract to limoncello to a catnip tincture for colds to a darn fine household cleaner.  And what is more badass than Mr. Clean?

Sometimes I think if people read my plays, they might not mess with me.  I may be quiet---but my thoughts are dangerous.  My favorite book on the craft of writing is called The Triggering Town by poet, Richard Hugo.  

He says: "To write a poem you must have a streak of arrogance---not in real life I hope.  In real life try to be nice.  It will save you a hell of a lot of trouble and give you more time to write."