Whether sweet, sour, spicy or a tad salty, condiments have added flavor and flare to food for countless centuries. While the most familiar – ketchup, mustard and mayonnaise – still bring pleasure to the palate, something more unusual, such as chutney, can add much needed excitement to your dinner plate. From the East Indian word “chatni” comes chutney, a tangy condiment featuring minced herbs, fruits, vegetables and spices. Freshly prepared for each meal, chutney appears alongside curries, as a spread for bread, as a topping for cheese and as a flavor enhancer for milder dishes such as rice and dals. The ingredients in this sauce vary according to region and personal taste. In Southern India creamy coconut is all the rage while in Western India spicy herb reigns supreme. Whether from ripe or green tomatoes, tomato chutney is a hit across the country as is the silky, piquant tamarind chutney. Of the myriad of chutneys produced and consumed, only one has become an international sensation – the sweetly tart and chunky mango chutney. Made from …

Pity the pumpkin. Each fall it risks getting carved up, stuffed with a candle and dumped unceremoniously on someone’s porch only to be forsaken after Halloween. When this thick-skinned winter squash does make it to the dinner table, it’s relegated to the end of the meal, to a time when most diners are too satiated to indulge in or even appreciate its rich, earthy taste. I, too, once had little regard for the poor pumpkin. It was neither a seasonal decoration nor a fragile cannonball but the main ingredient in my mother’s Thanksgiving pies or aunt’s sweet pumpkin squares and breads. Spiced with ginger, cinnamon and nutmeg, it concluded the holiday dinner then quickly disappeared from our menus, replaced by cranberry cobblers, mince pies and fruitcakes. Now, though, the low-fat and low-calorie pumpkin sticks around long past Thanksgiving, playing a starring role in both my dinners and desserts. Much of the world uses pumpkin in savory as well as sweet dishes.  The French use it in soups and in bread, pain de courge, which is …

As the thermometer plummets and cold, dreary days become the norm, my thoughts turn to wassail and all the warmth and good cheer that it brings.  Derived from the Norse phrase “ves heill” or “be in good health,” wassail holds several longstanding, culinary roles.  It can be a toast to the aforementioned health, the alcoholic drink with which one is toasted, or the festive event where drinking and toasting occurs.  Yet, oddly enough, to go ‘wassailing’ could just as easily mean that you’re off caroling at Christmastime as out imbibing.   Of course, the carolers of yore did expect to receive steaming cups of wassail, food, and heartfelt good wishes in exchange for their melodies. At my house wassail is a favorite hot, mulled drink.   Although customarily made with mead or ale and occasionally wine, I opt for a seasonal brew of white rum and apple cider.  Whole cloves, cinnamon sticks and ground ginger spice up the tart cider while an ample amount of sugar sweetens the mix. Traditionally, this toasty beverage was placed …

A recent assignment forced me to spend a warm, sunny Sunday in the kitchen, testing stuffing recipes.  It also got me thinking about my troubled relationship with this cooking staple.  Since Stovetop Stuffing became all the rage during my toddler years, I have only hazy memories of my mother making homemade, rather than just-add-boiling-water, dressings.  As a result, I can share no cherished family recipes for Mom’s cranberry-chestnut stuffing or  Grandmother’s sweet potato-lentil filling.  I can, however, wax about the stuffing varieties offered by Kraft Foods. Hobbled by this culinary deficit, I’ve experienced my share of homemade stuffing disasters.  Take the Thanksgiving where I watched my husband’s extended family spoon out parched bread cubes that clinked as they hit the dinner plates.   Then there was the follow-up meal where I overcompensated for the bone dry dressing and served a bland, gooey porridge of bread, minced onions and celery.  No wonder my mother opted for store-bought mixes. Fortunately, I — and my dinner guests — persevered and learned from my mistakes.  Today I can actually …

Last month I developed an obsession with blended, iced coffees.   You know the ones that I mean — “frappucinos,” “arctic mochas,” frozen mochas.”  I just couldn’t get enough of these cold, chocolaty, caffeine-laced treats.   From Starbucks to small, independent coffee shops I tried every variation.   Endless consumption resulted not only in a bulging waistline but also in some interesting discoveries.  Beyond coming to grips with the fact that these drinks are chocked full of calories (depending on the size ordered, between 300 and 700 calories per drink) and fat (between 10 and 21 grams per drink) I learned that every barista makes his drink differently and not every drink thrills me equally. Truth be told, I fell head over heels for the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf’s mocha-licious version yet threw out the slushy, overly sweet offering from Dunkin Donuts after just one sip.   As usual, Starbucks served up a tasty but bold brew while Panera Bread delivered something more akin in flavor to a mild chocolate milk shake.  Some smaller shops doled …