pumpkin spice – Life In A Word

P.S. I Love You

When it comes to snack foods, I’m not a fan of variations on a theme. Kellogg’s Pop-Tarts debuted in the 1960s with just four flavors: strawberry, blueberry, apple, and brown sugar cinnamon. Today you choose from more than twenty Tarts, including “Hot Fudge Sundae”. The original Triscuit cracker was a baked whole wheat square with a little salt. Today you’ll find a dozen Triscuit flavors on the shelf, including “Fire Roasted Tomato & Olive Oil”. Then we have the Oreo cookie. The original, of course, was two chocolate wafers sandwiching just the right amount of vanilla cream filling. Now Oreo flavors are too numerous to count. But there’s one you can be sure is a whopping success: pumpkin spice.

Welcome to mid-September, Americans, and the beginning of our pumpkin spice delirium. For the next two months you can expect an endless parade of “P.S.” product advertisements. My wife & I, we’ve already caved to the obsession. We have a package of “Pumpkin Spice Snaps” sitting on the counter. We have two leftover pieces of this year’s first homemade pumpkin pie sitting in our frig. And it’s only a matter of time before my car veers off the road and right through a Starbucks drive-thru for one of their classic P.S. lattes. (I’ll take a grande, if you please).

My daughter just reminded me Starbucks also brings back their pumpkin cream cold brew this time of year. That’s a good one too but let’s be real: none of Starbucks’ P.S. offerings should be considered “coffee”. We buy them for the spice and the sweet, not for the taste of the beans underneath.

Lest you think Starbucks gets the credit for our pumpkin spice mania, the record must be set straight. McCormick and Company, they of the little red-capped spice bottles, debuted their “Pumpkin Pie Spice” in 1934. At least three of the following are in the bottle: cinnamon, ginger, allspice, cloves, and nutmeg. Do I have this spice blend? Yes. Do I use it? Heck, no. My wife’s family recipe for pumpkin pie contains a different proportion of the individual spices than McCormick’s, which may be the secret to its delectable flavor. Plus, pumpkin pie is easy enough to make without having the spices combined for you. Dump the ingredients into a bowl and mix well. Pour into a pie shell. Bake. My kind of dessert.

Starbucks can’t even take the credit for the first P.S. latte. That accolade goes to Mexico’s Candle Company in 1995. The Starbucks version debuted eight years later. But you could argue Starbucks kicked off the forever-trend where we infuse P.S. into everything imaginable, including the good (Krispy Kreme doughnuts, Cheerios, candles) and the ridiculous (lip balm, deodorant, beer). As of 2016, “pumpkin spice consumables” accounted for an annual market of over $500M. Yep, we’re hooked.

The “Pumpkin Spice Flavored Creme Oreo” is not even an Oreo, at least not in my pantry. Nabisco attached the word “Oreo” but c’mon, let’s just admit it’s a seasonal wolf in sandwich cookie clothing. “Golden” Oreo cookies… with “festive pumpkin spice flavored cream” (and is it cream or creme?) Nope, the only Oreos in my book are black and white, though I will allow shelf space for the “Double Stuf” variety.

I’m not sure why this topic caught my eye because I haven’t had an Oreo in years. The last time I did I realized the taste was different from the Oreo of my youth. The cookies are not as soft, and there’s less cream filling in between (which is like messing with the ratio of chocolate and peanut butter in a Reese’s, a sin for all mankind). Like the misfortune of many other snack foods though, size and ingredients change for the sake of profit. And new varieties pop up to keep consumers buying. At least we’re not talking about the Lady Gaga Oreo. You’ll need your sunglasses for that one.

Now you’ll excuse me as I head off to a doctor’s appointment. My drive will take me past several Starbucks, which means I could be caving to my first P.S. latte of the season. Not that I’m worried about missing out. As soon as the P.S. season is over I can look forward to Starbucks’ Chestnut Praline latte all the way through New Year’s Day. Now we’re talking!

Some content sourced from the CNN Business article, “Oreo is bringing back this flavor after a 5-year hiatus:, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

’tis the Seasonings

When I baked a batch of molasses cookies for Halloween last month, I pulled ground ginger, cinnamon, and cloves off the spice shelf without so much as a glance at the labels. I recognized the spices by their colors and textures. Had I taken two seconds more to peruse the other spices nearby, I would’ve noticed the thin layer of dust on their bottle tops. Yep, my life needs a change of season-ings.

Here’s the count, at least in my kitchen. On the spice shelf, I have fifty-two bottled or bagged inhabitants. In the spice drawer (essentially an overflow of the shelf) I have another twenty-six. No-calculator math brings my total to seventy-eight unique flavorings, yet how many do I use regularly? Maybe a dozen. I ask the same of you. How many spices live in your rack/drawer/shelf? Of those, how many do you use week-in and week-out?

We’re missing out on adventure, you and me. My recipes are bland enough to demand little more than garlic salt or oregano (on the savory side), and cinnamon or ginger (on the sweet). I could spice things up if I’d just explore more exotic recipes… or simply brighten the ones I already make. My mantra should be “Spice is the variety of life” (not the other way around).

For inspiration, I could take a trip to Indonesia’s Maluku Islands. Once upon a time, nutmeg, cloves and mace could be found only on the Malukus, earning their nickname “The Spice Islands”. I have this vision of a pungent-smelling tropical oasis of colorful trees, plants, and bushes, everything edible and delicious. I’m running around sampling this and that like a kid in a candy store. Kind of like (you remember the scene) the Chocolate Room in Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

Spices have tons of trivial facts and here are some of my favorites:

Allspice tastes like cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves all rolled into one. Keep that in mind the next time you bake.
Saffron is one of the most expensive spices in the world. Some varieties ring in at $400 for a few ounces. Maybe because it takes a hundred hand-harvested flowers to produce a single gram of the spice?
If you find a blend called Chinese Five Spice, you can season your food to be sour, bitter, salty, sweet, and pungent all in one shake of the bottle.
“Masala” means “spice”… and nothing more. In other words, be wary of that next dish of chicken masala; the seasoning could be a blend of anything.
Spice blends are often associated with countries, as with Harissa (North Africa) and Jerk (Jamaica). The United States? Pumpkin pie spice, of course. We Americans obsess over anything pumpkin spice.

Because the musically inclined want to know, I took this opportunity to read up on The Spice Girls, the British girl group from the 1990s. I was disappointed to learn the name has nothing at all to do with spices. Each of the five women took on a nickname to include the word “spice” but only Geri Halliwell’s (“Ginger Spice”) made any reference to a real spice… and that reference was only to her red hair.

[On that note, can anyone explain ANY connection between “ginger” and “red hair”? My bottle of ground ginger is decidedly yellow…]

Here’s the real crime with my spice shelf. Almost all occupants are standard brands, like McCormick or Spice Islands, uniformly bottled in identical quantities. Neither brand is organic (let alone an advertised proponent of fair trade). Furthermore, their spices are processed and packaged in a factory, while I have zero excuses not to be shopping at a local store like Penzeys. You only buy as much as you need at spice stores, and you can be assured of fewer steps in the journey from source to you. Of course, you can also shop spices online at places like Diaspora and Burlap & Barrel.

Speaking of “as much as you need”, I can say with certainty most of my spices are past desired shelf life. No, they’re not expired; more like “faded”. They won’t pack as much punch as they did in their prime. Here’s the rule of thumb with spices: if whole (i.e., cloves) best used for 2-3 years; if ground (i.e., cinnamon) best for 1-2.

If I took a poll of “favorite spice” I’d get a different answer every time (including a few men who’d choose a Spice Girl). My favorite spice? Red pepper flakes. I use them liberally in a lot of dishes, including pasta and soups. I describe them as a convenient after-thought, a final flourish as I’m about to sit down at the table. Fire on top of my food.

Maybe if I invested in one of these spinning countertop racks, the mere visibility of so many options would spice up my life. I’d be more in line with Simon & Garfunkel’s “… parsley, sage, rosemary & thyme”. But if I’m limited to a shelf (and a drawer) my spices are out-of-sight, out-of-mind. Just a shake of red pepper flakes and call it good.

Some content sourced from the Relish blog article, “15 Spice Facts You Never Knew”, and Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.

Coup de Grâce

On my green and pristine back lawn, a solitary fallen leaf lies captive among the blades, a sure sign of the coming fall. A summer lengthened by oppressive heat is mercifully at its end. Fellow bloggers eagerly write about crisp mornings, cool nights, and college football games. But here’s a better nod to the upcoming season, a beckoning more sublime than anything “pumpkin spice”. Have a listen to Antonio Vivaldi’s violin concerto “Autumn”, from his best-known work, “The Four Seasons”.

Sure, I could bore you with the details of a classical composition written over four hundred years ago. “The Four Seasons” was cutting edge for its time because the music reflected real-life events: singing birds (“Spring”), soft breezes (“Summer”), and icy paths (“Winter”). But today’s post is not really about “Autumn” and its drunken dancers. It’s about the performance of the piece by Frederieke Saeijs.

I’d never heard of Frederieke Saeijs before I watched the eleven minutes of her violin solo in the video above but I must confess, I’m absolutely smitten. Frederieke (pronounced exactly like it reads, unlike her last name), is Dutch by birth but worldly in every other respect, including her education, performances, and teaching. Her list of accomplishments and awards suggests there is nothing further she can achieve with her instrument… and she’s only forty-two.

But I digress (and can you blame me after seeing her photo?) Let’s get back to this performance of “Autumn”. Here is what I found so captivating. First, Frederieke’s eyes and her movements with her violin are unabashedly expressive as she plays, clearly one with the music. She is a picture of grace with her slender frame, elegant hairstyle, and striking purple gown. In other words, you could watch this video on mute and still be impressed. But please don’t. You need to hear the music, even just a few minutes of it. I admit to distraction by some other things on my computer screen yet I kept coming back to this performance until I’d completed all eleven minutes.

If I haven’t yet persuaded you to spend a few minutes with Frederieke, consider this. She plays the entire piece from memory (which, in ‘Autumn’s more furious moments, is mind-boggling). Also, her performance – as well as those of the smallish orchestra around her – is captured from a dozen different angles. This was a busy production, both in front of and behind the camera.

I kept waiting for something – anything – to bring this performance back to earth so I could describe it as less than perfect. Except for a cough in the audience minutes from the end, I don’t see how the concerto could’ve been purer. Seriously, have you ever wondered how a soloist of this caliber avoids a sneeze or a cough, or even slips a little on her high heels? Perhaps this explains why Frederieke is a world-class violinist and I am not.

Finally, if you made it to the end of this performance like I did, you’ll find it interesting the video concluded before the audience applause (and standing ovation, no doubt). I say “good call” to whoever posted the video. The silent fade-to-black conclusion only makes the performance more powerful.

A coup de grâce is defined as “a decisive blow”, and further, “one delivered mercifully to end suffering”. I love the double meaning here. The season of autumn delivers a merciful end to the suffering of a hot summer. More to today’s topic, Ms. Saeijs’ violin performance speaks of force and grace as one. In other words, she offers you a most sublime welcome to fall.

The poem which inspired Vivaldi’s “Autumn” concerto includes the line, “… And (by) the season that invites so many, many…” After watching today’s video I feel very much invited. I suggest you raise a glass of hot cider to the calm of fall. While you’re at it, give thanks for the breathtaking talent of Frederieke Saeijs.

Some content sourced from Wikipedia, “the free encyclopedia”.