Sweet Low-down

SnackBar

Honey and Sugar sit in a bar, reminiscing about the past, drowning in the heat of mead and rum and ancient glories. When the world was young, sweetness was rare and novel. However, times change: honey fell from the table of gods into plastic jars shaped like gummy bears. Not only that, but it has been replaced by that coarse character, sugar, as the sweetener de rigeur. Honey may be the house specialty in Valhalla, Olympus, and the shores of the Ganges, but sugar became the indulgence exclusive to earthly kings.

Sugar started out like many other exotic ingredients, brought into the world through a laborious process of extraction and in such small quantities that it was only stocked in apothecaries; it was treasured as a cure for the stomachache and the plague. As the production and the taste for sugar grew, it trickled from the herbalist’s shelf to the table of kings to practically every pantry in the world. First extracted from the sugar cane in India around 500 BC, sugar really began its rise during the Middle Ages. From its introduction to Europe in the 11^th century by the Arabs and the crusaders (people just can’t stand staying at home can they), its popularity rose steadily to the point where it became the primary cash crop that drove the expansion of the European empires in the Americas. Columbus first tumbled onto the shores of a Caribbean island in 1492, and within a decade, Hispaniola was sending its first sugar harvest back to Europe. Even as the production of sugar grew exponentially, refined cane sugar remained, for the moment, a luxury product.

In the 15^th century, a pound of sugar cost about 16 days’ wages for a London craftsman, comparable to the price of other major imported spices such as pepper and ginger. Sugar was considered a spice in many ways and kept exalted company accordingly. In the 1600s, along with some thoughts on empire and empirical observations, Francis Bacon jotted down a recipe for a delicate sugar wafer known as manus Christi (hand of Christ), which is taken as a treat and digestive.

A manus Christi for the stomach: Take of the best pearls very finely pulverised, one dram; of sal nitre one scruple; of tartar two scruples; of ginger and galingal together, one scruple and a half; of calamus, root of enula campana [wild sunflower], nutmeg, together one scruple and a half; of amber sixteen grains; of the best musk ten grains; with rose-water and the finest sugar, let there be made a manus Christi.

This makes a thin translucent sugar disc, flecked with crushed pearls and amber (many recipes also include gold leaf), infused with the most medicinally virtuous of spices. In the same tradition, épices de chambre (sweetmeats of fruit, spices and sugar) in silver comfit boxes were given to guests after great household feasts when they retire to their chambers to digest in peace.

Those were the days when sugar was associated with power, luxury, and healing. Now sugar, specifically sucrose, is blamed for most of our medical ills and bills. Sugar’s long fall from precious spice to cheap additive is the same sad old story of excess. By the 18^th century, sugar from American plantations has flooded the world and the sweetener went from being a luxury import to a household staple, then it goes downhill from there.

Take the marshmallow: originally an Egyptian medicine for throat irritation, which evolved into a labor-intensive French confection, now extruded by the miles in factories. The excess of marshmallows has forced people to find new ways to consume them, such as using them as projectiles shot by specifically designed marshmallow guns and making home videos of marshmallow cheeps melting in agony under the onslaught of microwaves. Whatever people say about medieval times, modern life can be pretty crude too.

In many ways, scarcity creates sophistication and it can be refreshing to enjoy sweets as it was appreciated in the Middle Ages: as a rare elegant treat that pampers the body and the spirit. A gold and gem-flaked manus Christi may be going overboard, but a thoughtful combination of sugar and spices is delicious and simple. One of the easiest sweetmeats to make is crystallized ginger, an old recipe found across Asia and Europe. The spiciness of the ginger is tempered by sugar and citrus, and then dressed in a thin glittering coat of sugar crystals that gives it a delicate crunch. The leftover ginger-infused syrup should be saved. It adds a punch to any drink, from seltzer to tea, but it is breathtaking in bourbon or rum. The tale is against excess, but decadence is another matter altogether.

If you have any comments, questions or other tasty (or morbid) tidbits, contact DuanDuan at SnackBar.Kitchen@gmail.com.

Crystallized Ginger

Makes enough to fill a small comfit box

Ingredients

1/2 cup granulated sugar, plus extra for dusting

1/2 cup water

10 inches of young ginger, peeled & thinly sliced (1/8 inch)

4 thin slices of lemon, plus a dash of lemon juice (optional)

Method

1. Combine sugar and water in small saucepan and heat over medium heat till sugar dissolves. Adjust heat to maintain a slow steady simmer.
2. Add ginger and lemon to syrup and simmer till tender, about 30 minutes. Skim off scum periodically if you’ve got nothing better to do.
3. Spread ginger and lemon in one layer on drying rack. Place in oven. Heat oven to 200°F then turn off once temperature is reached. Check periodically and remove from oven once the ginger is firm and tacky, but still slightly sticky on the surface.
4. Combine ginger, lemon, and sugar for dusting in Ziploc bag. Seal and shake to coat evenly with sugar. Return to drying rack in oven. It’s properly dried if you hear a distinctive clink as you drop it in a tin. Store in airtight container at room temperature.
5. For ginger syrup: strain syrup (through mesh or wet cheesecloth) into container while still warm and store in fridge. A good friend to both bourbon enthusiast and teetotalers.