Homemade Vanilla Extract: The Moment of Truth

Remember when I wrote about making homemade vanilla extract back in January? Well, my friends– after two whole months of waiting, the moment of truth arrived:

I opened my first jar of homemade vanilla extract (back in early March– yes, I am behind in blog posts) and prepared to be amazed! Move over, Martha– there’s a new Suzy Homemaker in town!

A later experiment using vodka as the base instead of bourbon

I ran my nose across the top of the open jar (figuratively, not actually– that would not be hygienic), eyes closed, fully expecting to inhale the irresistibly sweet and powerful aroma of pure vanilla. Welcome to my kitchen– Land of the Never-Ending Cupcake Smell! Instead, my nostrils were caught off guard by the stinging scent of 40-proof bourbon (tempered only slightly by a modest suggestion of vanilla). Alas! The nostalgic aroma of vanilla was barely discernible to my pedestrian olfactory glands, and there was definitely no mistaking the smell of booze in my extract: that stuff was strong!

Would you like a little vanilla with your extract, dear?

Slightly dismayed, I took to Ye Olde Internet to find out what could possibly have gone wrong with my DIY Vanilla Extract. Where was the distinctive Sweet Shoppe aroma? Why wasn’t I resisting an overpowering urge to guzzle the whole jar of vanilla, straight up? Most importantly: If my vanilla extract was doomed to be forever disgusting and pungent-smelling, what on earth was I going to do with three whole (large!) bottles of the stuff? (Remember that I prepared no less than 1.5 litres of vanilla extract in a flurry of initial, made from scratch!, enthusiasm.) Would I be destined to pawn small doses of lethal-smelling vanilla extract off on unsuspecting gift recipients from now until eternity? And on that note, does anybody want to invite me to a birthday party, wedding, house warming, or baby shower? Have I got a perfect gift for YOU!

Thankfully, a cursory search through the magical Web of the World yielded a number of interesting nuggets (i.e. two) about homemade vanilla extract, both of which were encouraging to me and helped me not to feel like a total failure:

1. Most store-bought varieties of “pure” vanilla extract are actually watered-down and sugared-up versions of the homemade recipe. Whereas the recipe for homemade vanilla extract calls for all of two ingredients– vanilla beans and liquor– most off-the-shelf bottles of vanilla contain more water than alcohol, plus a whole schwack of sugar. The sugar would explain the, um, sugary smell I was expecting from my jar, and the 65% water content in store-bought bottles would also explain the shockingly boozy smell of my own extract in comparison.

But must sugar be in everything? And must everything you buy in stores be cheapened knock-offs of the real thing? I think not!

After deciding that I wasn’t going to water down my own version of vanilla extract or dump a heap of cane sugar into my modest jar, I shook a tiny fist of rage at all the companies who make a quick buck off of diluting the Real Deal. Sure, their versions smell sweeter (and let’s face it, better), but their versions aren’t as legitimate or authentic as my own. (Yes, this anti-corporate rant helped me sleep better at night.)

I only use HARD LIQUOR for my vanilla extract!

2. Aha! According to the internet: Letting homemade vanilla sit for longer periods of time yields more and more delicious results. (Imagine that!) Most online recipes for homemade vanilla extract recommend letting the beans sit in alcohol for anywhere between 4 weeks and 6 months. I was following the arbitrary 2-month rule, but– at least when bourbon is the base alcohol, as it was in my case– 2 months didn’t quite seem to cut it.

As fate would have it, I was called away to Calgary shortly after I first opened my jar of vanilla, meaning that I had to let it stew for an extra 2 weeks in my absence. When I got home and re-opened my jar… guess what smelled like a warm and gooey slice of heaven? Amazing what 14 extra days can do!

Yum, yum-- gimme some!

I’ve been using my homemade vanilla extract every day for a few weeks now (not counting my 2-week stint in Alberta). The distinctive bourbon-y undertones of my concoction have really won me over, so much so that I’m actually a bit worried about the 750mL of extract I made using bland vodka as the base instead. (On a different but related note, should I be worried about being lured into a lifetime of alcoholism by my not-so-innocent bourbon vanilla extract? It’s seriously delicious.)

If you’re planning to make your own extract at home, I’d recommend letting it sit for a minimum of 10 weeks, because it really does start tasting (and smelling!) better the longer it stews. Don’t be a cheapskate and fill your extract with water or sugar, either– the full-on alcoholic version is amazing and really punches up our morning bowls of oatmeal. Huzzah to DIY recipe success (and not having to discreetly pawn off vanilla extract to unsuspecting friends and family members until I’m 80 years old.)

The Answer is No

Back when I still worked at Ye Olde Office Job, my tiny Finance Team had an ongoing joke about the answer to any question always being no. All three of us were/are abnormally nice people who tended to be overly accommodating of the needs of others, but in secret, when we were sure nobody else was listening, we used to practice bellowing with authority: The answer is no!

Need a spreadsheet made? The answer is no!

Donation amounts need to be tallied and reported at the next staff meeting? The answer is no!

Can we please mail out the charitable tax receipts by the end of the day? The answer is no!

Is it possible to– NO! The answer is no!

(Yeah, I know it’s not very funny, but to our simple accounting department sensibilities, the idea of being Make Believe Jerks to our coworkers never got old.)

Well. It’s been a year and a half since I left my day job, but I’m finding that dirty, two-letter ‘n-o’ word creeping back into my daily existence again, especially when it comes to food. My awareness of this sneaky phenomenon peaked when I read Kathy’s recent post, 50 and Fat– or 50 and Fit? (Weighing in on Mid-Life) and again when I encountered a brief aside about “Kimberly [Snyder] disapproving of cashews” in this post from Housewifing Around. Kathy spoke of her mother basing many of their conversations on foods that she either could not or would not eat, and something about that wagging-finger, “disapproving of cashews” comment burrowed its way into the rotten core of my soul and annoyed me enough to start writing this post. Is food really the enemy? Do I need to start being a real jerk to sustenance?

I disapprove of molasses!

Most Foods: The Answer is No?

I’m sure we’ve all encountered “revolutionary” eating plans before that promise amazing results but demonize major nutrients. There are low-fat diets, low-carb crazes, no-carb devotees, detox programs that require abstinence from tropical fruits, fermented foods, flours, refined sugars, and even mushrooms– the list is truly endless. I’ll guiltily confess that my youngest sister and I once spent two weeks fearing the sweet wrath of carrots, potatoes, and tomatoes on the advice of one fad diet book, and I’ve also gone for several months before, honestly convinced that one of the worst foods I could ever eat was a banana. For real. Obviously, a diet based on cupcakes and diet sodas is going to take you nowhere fast, but I’m highly suspicious now of any so-called “healthy” program that demands its followers to deprive themselves of fruits or vegetables. Apricots are not the devil in disguise, am I right or am I right? (Unless you have a serious apricot allergy, in which case, they probably are the devil in a squishy orange disguise.)

Anyway…

I started on the Beauty Detox Solution last year-ish, very much in love with the whole concept. (This again? Yes!) For once, I didn’t have to find vegetarian substitutes for the “lean chicken breast” recipes in Food Book #1, and for once, I didn’t have to omit cheese or milk from any recipes, either. (All of Kimberly’s recipes are vegan.) I didn’t have to worry about finding an acceptable stand-in for “cashew cream” desserts or soups– because, as you just discovered, Kimberly “disapproves” of cashews due to the high possibility of them containing toxic moulds. (Have I ever told you how allergic I am to cashews?) And finally, finally, I didn’t have a dietician or nutritionist recommending pounds upon pounds of tofu or soy to satisfy the vegetarian contingent of readers. (Seriously. Soy will not save the world. A girl can only pound back so much edamame before her very bowels transform into long tofu dogs. Go on: Ask me how I know this.)

Yes, these soups are homemade and vegan, but are they raw? Tsk, tsk!

The Beauty Detox Solution seemed to offer a seamless, well-researched solution to all of the questions I’ve ever had about what I eat. I didn’t need to consume 10 pounds of lentils every day after all! Low fat yogurt was not a requirement– huzzah! The BDS spokesperson was an impossibly beautiful woman with a blindingly large, genuine smile, and I gravitated easily to the idea of prioritizing whole foods and becoming the best person I could possibly be! In retrospect, this was the honeymoon phase. I was practically giddy with love!

Kimberly makes a lot of recommendations in her book. True, most of them are small and simple steps that can be incorporated over time to achieve optimal health, but if you were to make a list of everything she suggests to do in her book (which I did– don’t judge), it ends up being a pretty lengthy list. (Then you go and read her blog and find out you also need to install shower head filters, buy organic eco-mattresses for the best, most planet-friendly sleep, and possibly even stop touching money. After all, it’s disgustingly dirty and contaminated. The answer is no, my friend!)

Originally, the super geek in me (the one who loves to make spreadsheets and cross items off To Do Lists) was pumped to tackle each of these recommendations, one by one, until I emerged from the process as a Radiant Goddess of Gastro-Intestinal Perfection!

(Aside: I should try to rustle up one of my earlier fertility charts so you can see just how OCD I am about graphs. I recorded everything I possibly could about my body every day– temperature, heart rate, secretions, cervical position, dreams, bowel movements, glasses of water consumed, mood, moon phase, etc.– and then color-coded it all. A RAINBOW OF FERTILITY! The Gigantic List of Things to Do with the Beauty Detox Solution was right up my alley.)

Gradually, though, my love for the Beauty Detox Solution began to fade. I lost the spark. I no longer felt the good vibes. I just wanted to be done with food combinations and excited about eating spontaneously again. I was tired of being the person who needed to schedule 1-hour blocks of time before and after eating an apple, and don’t even get me started on eating out at restaurants. Me: Can you believe they put both pecans AND avocado on this salad? Clearly, they haven’t read The Beauty Detox Solution and don’t realize you shouldn’t put two fats together in one meal. And wait– is that extra virgin olive oil in the dressing? A third added, albeit healthy, fat? Don’t tell me that’s balsamic vinegar, too– crikey!

“NO!” was beginning to permeate every aspect of my life. Can I please have a cup of warm water with lemon juice right before breakfast (and not 30-45 minutes before)? Is it possible to put flax seeds on my oatmeal instead of on my salads? What if I feel like peanut butter on a cardboard-esque Wasa cracker? Are the omelet sandwiches I made on marble rye bread acceptable? THE ANSWER IS NO!!!!! Like a rice racist, I seriously considered tossing the (white) sushi rice in our cupboard before the thrift-conscious side of me won that particular battle. Penny pincher vs. white rice finger pointer-atter. Any food with a dates-base was suspect, and I often found myself spouting the words “But Kimberly says…” like a knee-jerk reaction to anything that contradicted her Beauty Detox bible.

Enough of that. I don’t care what the gorgeous lady says: this girl’s gotta give.

I’ve decided that, for me, simple is truly better. I need to relax! Dried figs aren’t going to kill me! After reading The China Study book, I’ve found my newest touchstone when it comes to food:

  “Eating should be an enjoyable and worry-free experience, and shouldn’t rely on deprivation… The recommendations coming from the published literature are so simple that I can state them in one sentence: eat a whole foods, plant-based diet, while minimizing the consumption of refined foods, added salt and added fats.” (p. 242, emphasis added)

So much easier, yes? Even looking at these words makes me breath a huge sigh of relief! It’s kind of painful for me to admit this (because I’m abnormally nice and don’t enjoy disappointing people), but maybe the principles of the Beauty Detox Solution aren’t as clear-cut fabulous as I first thought they were, at least for me. (Disclaimer: many/most of the principles still are great, but I’m no longer trying to combine them all into one and achieve super-humanness.) Maybe I can go on without eating meat or dairy but not feel so bad if I’m not regularly consuming raw sauerkraut, too. Maybe it’s okay for me to enjoy some non-sprouted breads every now and then or to put two types of seeds on my salads. (Such a rebel!) I should be able to enjoy hummus without hearing the words “beans are Mother Nature’s “oops!”" (because they naturally combine proteins with starches) echoing in my brain. Heck, I might even dip crackers into hummus and not fret that I’m messing up the sacrosanct food combinations even more. Whoa. Can you feel my diet rebellion picking up speed?

Maybe I’m weak, maybe I’m stubborn, maybe I’ve failed at Shimmering Goddess Lessons, or maybe I’m just cranky, but I’m sick and tired of organizing such a huge part of my life– eating– around the word ‘no’. I’d much rather say YES! to whole foods, YES! to fresh fruits and vegetables, and YES! to foods in their unrefined, minimally processed states. That’s it! No need to break things down into a million sub-rules or minor clauses. Just eat clean food. Period.

[end rant]

What do you say?

    Are there certain “diet rules” that really chap your ass?

Are you consumed by “following the rules” or “sticking to” a particular eating program?

Are you a serial wagon-falling-offer like I am, at least when it comes to food plans?

Are you one of those mystical beings who seriously only eats food for fuel and never gets caught up in emotional eating? (And if so, can you be my guru?)

PS: Lest you think that I’m just going on a rant to somehow justify a lack of weight loss or a general state of unhealthiness, the last time I checked, I was halfway back down to my pre-harbour weight. Yes: I’m ten pounds lighter than I was in December, and I’ve done this by embracing the KISS motto: Keep it simple, silly.

Surviving the Non-Perishable Food Item Apocalypse

Here’s a tip: If you ever happen to meet me in person, and if– during this meeting– you’re inexplicably called upon to form a team of people to play an impromptu game of “Guess Somebody’s Age/Weight/Height” or “Guess the Amount of [Blanks] in the Jar”, do not pick me to be on your team! I am downright abysmal when it comes to estimating height, weight, age, distance, length, volume, or the passage of time, and the only thing I truly understand in terms of numbers is money. (Thank goodness for that last part, because I spent several years working in the Accounting Department of a local non-profit and am now in charge of anything finance-related in our art business. Phew!)  

What does my complete and utter lack of approximation skills have to do with surviving an apocalypse, you might ask?

Well.

It seems that my pitiful understanding of weight values– coupled with my sincere love for bulk discounts– has left me with a lifetime supply of quinoa (pronounced KEEN-wa, for those of you who are unfamiliar with this wonder grain). Have no fear, dear readers: should the ancient grain industry suddenly run dry, leaving grocery store shelves across the continent conspicuously bereft of quinoa, I’ve got us covered. Chez Machacek is hereby dubbed The Land of Plenty, at least when it comes to non-perishable food items that require cooking before they are actually edible.

Decked out in my Haz Mat suit, which sort of looks like a whale watching outfit, but is really quite dangerous and serious. I'm only smiling because it's an Apocalypse Drill, NOT because I'm going to see a Super Pod of whales in this pic.

Here’s what happened to render my quinoa cup overflowing:

1. I perused an organic grains catalogue, scanning the list for quinoa. (Yep– just an ordinary day of being hip and otherwise fabulous!)

2. I saw that quinoa was available in two different sizes through this particular bulk distributor– 2kg or 25lbs.

3. (No, the catalogue did not list one bag of quinoa in kilograms and the other in pounds. My mind just neatly summarized the chart by remembering whole numbers, as it is wont to do. 2kg stuck in my head more readily than 4.4lbs would have, and 25lbs was much more convenient a mnemonic device than 11.34kg. Oh, the benefits of being Canadian and (sort of) understanding both systems of measurement! Clearly, I use the word “understand” very loosely.)

4. I ran through my handy mental inventory of How To Understand Weight Values:

4a. 2lb weights are the tiniest, wimpiest options available to use at my Turbo Kick fitness class. (Note fatal lack of converting pounds to kilograms here.) Obvious (Flawed) Conclusion  No. 1: 2kg will not be enough quinoa to last us for any significant amount of time.

4b. Somebody who brags they can bench press 25lbs is not a very strong person and has no right to be bragging at all. Obvious (Also Flawed) Conclusion No. 2: 25lbs is a pretty insubstantial amount to bench press; therefore, 25lbs of quinoa is a perfectly rational amount to purchase.

4c. (Further proof of the relative ‘smallness’ of 25lbs) A 25-pound dog is less than 1/3 the size of our 80-pound canine, who really wasn’t that big. (RIP, beloved pup.)  Ergo, 25lbs of quinoa in the kitchen is totally doable.

"Dog?" takes on "DOG!"

4d. (Final proof) Despite having gained close to 20lbs last year, I can still (for the most part) fit into my same clothes. Hence, 25lbs of quinoa will hardly take up any space in our kitchen pantry.

Oh, youth! So misguided. So lacking in brain cells.

When our gigantic sack of quinoa was delivered, I encountered this:

I struggled to lift the sack upstairs without Marty’s manly assistance, and yet my mind still did not compute. I’m embarrassed to admit it now, but the full implications of my purchase didn’t really sink in until I started transferring the quinoa from the sack into my precious Mason jars.

I required a lot of jars.

Those jars took up a lot of room in my cupboards.

About halfway through the sack, I realized that I would need to start stashing jars of quinoa throughout the house, in order to leave a tiny fraction of cupboard space for our other, non-quinoa food items. I kept one jar in the kitchen cupboard to have at the ready:

Shameless product placement, but at no financial gain to myself

Then I tucked a jar or two safely into the recesses of my medicine cabinet:

Several jars were lined up on our window sills (to keep the plants company, of course):

And some even found their way into my sock drawer and under my pillow for safe keeping:

There's quinoa amidst the unmentionables...

What a blanket hog!

Finally, to remind myself of the dangers of not understanding numeric values as they relate to weight and volume, I hid a jar of quinoa in our bankers box of tax paperwork. Money (and taxes), I get, so every time I file a spreadsheet or complete a government remittance form now, I’ll remember not to be so hasty with my purchases of dry goods:

********************************************************

It’s been about six months since I purchased that quinoa. Early on, I offloaded generously offered jars of quinoa to several of my friends, and I have since been finding creative ways to add quinoa to practically everything we eat. Yes, I totally love eating quinoa, but 25lbs is still a whole lotta quinoa!

In case you’re like me and still have a hard time picturing just how much quinoa we have to chisel through, one cup of quinoa weighs this much: 

7.6 oz or 214 g

Yeah. Just under a half pound or about 1/5th of a kilogram. We cook it up 1 cup at a time, and each cup lasts us for about a week. We don’t exactly want to eat quinoa with every single meal, so getting through our stash will be A Task… perhaps even A Task And A Half. All of this is a roundabout way of saying: Don’t be surprised if I bring you all some Quinoa Surprise the next time you invite me anywhere. (Hey! [Sudden dawning of understanding] Maybe this is why we haven’t been invited anywhere in the last 6 months or so! [Searching for a snappy comeback] … [Still searching] … You’ll all come crawling back when the dry goods apocalypse hits! Don’t say I didn’t warn you.)

Zing!

Holy Shiitake Stew!

My mom came out to the lake last weekend– just before I succumbed to terrible illness. It. Was. Awesome! (Her visit, not the malaise, obviously.) True to form, she brought a boatload of things along with her. A lot of it was crap that we had conveniently left behind at her place during our week in Vancouver (dirty laundry, beautiful new boots, etc.) The rest of it was food– delicious and organic whole foods and produce!

What's that? You'd like to see a photo of my non-vegan red boots propped up on my mom's guest bed? OK! (Pictured here without the kick ass biker-style stud accessory.)

My mom is serious about whole foods (the concept, not the store), and she doesn’t waste her time with single-serve portions. Ever. Even when she cooks just for herself, she prepares weeks of meals in advance. Bushels of gorgeous garlic bulbs fill every nook and cranny of her kitchen, and her fridge is always packed to overflowing with juicing carrots and leafy greens. (In fact, the first time Marty ever witnessed the splendour of her kitchen– with bags of organic grains peeking out from random cupboards and jars of decadent ingredients dotting every shelf (even local bay leaves!) – I suddenly made a lot more sense to him. The apple did not fall very far from the tree in this particular case, and it probably reassured Marty to realize that I am not the only person in the world who caresses bunches of kale in hushed reverence and admiration. Not that there’s anything wrong with that…)

Garlic worthy of adoration

I had requested specific items in advance of my mom’s visit: lemons, ginger root, turmeric root, a bit of garlic, and rolled oats. (We drink the best tea every morning, with fresh lemon juice, ginger, turmeric, and cayenne pepper in it, so we go through those ingredients like nobody’s business.) My mom did not disappoint. She brought us LEMONS! and GINGER! and TURMERIC! and 25 POUNDS OF ROLLED OATS!, along with enough garlic to keep the whole cast of Twilight far, far away forever and ever amen. Alleluia!

Gee, I hope you didn't say 'A' lemon, because I brought LEMONS!!

What I wasn’t expecting was the mushrooms. Specifically, my mom showed up with what she termed a “dealer’s weight” of shiitakes. She wasn’t kidding. As I watched– breath held with cautious expectation– my mom unveiled a hefty-sized paper bag stuffed to the brim with mushrooms. Upon seeing these elaborate flowers of the forest ground, both of us emitted our signature, clan-patented squeals of delight! (Thankfully, Marty was on a bike ride at the time and didn’t have to deal with two nut cases culinary aficionados. We were free to be as enamoured with the fungi as we liked.)

Soft-core shiitake porn

Shiitake close-up. You're welcome.

Not wanting to let even one of these beauties go to waste, Marty and I have enjoyed mushroom soup and shiitake-studded omelets for the past week. This evening, I also made us a variation of our regular mushroom soup and dubbed it Holy Shiitake Stew. Have some mushrooms lying around, shiitake or not? Here’s a beautiful, soul-warming, and vegan way to enjoy them. (Non-vegan boot-wearing is optional.) Bon appetit!

Holy Shiitake Stew

You Will Need:

- 1 Tbsp coconut or other cooking oil

- 1 large onion, coarsely chopped

- 3-4 carrots, sliced

- 3-4 celery stalks, sliced

- Fresh garlic to taste (I used 2 large cloves), thinly sliced

- 2 pounds of shiitake mushrooms, or mixed mushrooms to taste. Take 1.5 lbs of mushrooms and wash and coarsely chop them. The other half pound should be washed and cut into bite-sized chunks.

- 6-8 cups of water or vegetable broth

- Salt and pepper to taste

- 1 tsp each of thyme and curry powder

- dash of caraway seeds, if you’re feeling adventurous

How To Make It:

1. In a stock pot, saute onions in coconut oil over low heat. Cover pot and check on onions occasionally, stirring until they are soft and translucent (approx 5-7 minutes).

2. Add carrots and garlic to the pot, along with 1/2 cup of water or stock. Cover and let cook on low to medium heat for around 5 minutes, until carrots start to soften.

3. Add celery and another 1/2 cup of water or stock to pot. Cover and let cook on medium heat for around 5 minutes.

Just in case you need to see what the soup looks like at this point

4. Add 1.5 lbs of chopped mushrooms to pot, along with 4 cups of water or stock. Water will not cover the mushrooms at this point, but they will soften and reduce in size very quickly. Cover pot.

Mushrooms!

5. Cook mushrooms with the rest of the vegetables until everything is tender, stirring as needed. Add rest of water or stock, salt, pepper, curry powder, and thyme. Bring to a boil, cover, and then simmer on low heat for 30 minutes.

Soup after 30 minutes of simmering, pre-blending

6. Meanwhile, saute remaining 1/2 pound of mushrooms in a pan with a small amount of water (and caraway seeds if you so desire) until tender. Remove from heat and set aside.

7. After soup has simmered for 30 minutes, remove from heat and blend in the stock pot until smooth using a hand blender.

8. Add sauteed mushrooms to smooth soup mixture to give it some texture. Adjust seasoning if needed. Serve hot over a whole grain or with fresh garlic toast. Holy shiitake, it’s delicious!