Nathan wrote: "Many recipes from Medieval European culinary sources mention adding "a handful" of saffron! I suspect they weren't necessarily too horribly picky about species and used crocuses other than C. sativus. Also, such recipes were intended to make large batches for serving feasts."
Maybe. But maybe it wasn't saffron in the modern sense. Years ago I mentioned my use of saffron (and its expense) in the presence of a Mexican woman. She scoffed at me and said to my face that only a fool would pay that much for saffron. She went on to tell me that she never paid that much because she used Mexican saffron, and that if I wanted to save money so should I. I had heard of Spanish saffron and Kashmiri saffron (and I've recently learned of Pennsylvania grown saffron), but Mexican saffron was new to me. I asked her where to get Mexican saffron, and she said she would bring me some. She did. I didn't even have to open the zip lock plastic bag to know what it was and why it was so inexpensive: it was safflower, Carthamus tinctorius, and ancient substitute for and adulterant of true saffron. Now that even the most penurious cook would use by the handful. About a decade ago a woman from India and I were discussing food in the office. I offhandedly mentioned that I grow saffron. After a few discreet preliminary questions to ascertain that she understood me, she began to ask a lot of questions, her eyes wide-open in wonder all the time. I told her I would bring her a corm at the right season. I did. She planted it, and it flowered and she collected the styles. She still sends me birthday cards every year, although we have not seen each other in about eight years. On another occasion, my employer at the time decided to reward a group of us with a trip to the Atlantic City casinos. In retrospect, I can't help wondering if the reason we were really invited was the hope that at the end of the day at least one of use would be sober enough to drive the group home. He gave us each $10 to play the slot machines. When my last nickel from that ten dollars was gone, I quit and decided to look around. I stopped in the cafeteria for lunch. I ordered clams in a saffron broth, which came in a light orange broth with a surprisingly large number of bright orange-red strands. I thought to myself that the casinos must be doing well, and how nice it was of them to pass on to the patrons some of that success by not stinting with the saffron. After enjoying the clams and broth for a bit, I decided to bite into a strand of the saffron to see how intense it would be. It was shockingly intense to be sure: shockingly intense disappointment and anger to discover that the red-orange strands were plastic! One goes to the casinos to be taken, and in a sense I had been taken, but it was the boss's money, not mine. Jim McKenney _______________________________________________ Alpine-l mailing list [email protected] http://mailman.science.uu.nl/mailman/listinfo/alpine-l
