Kitchen Detail: Of Spice and Real Estate

It doesn’t take a lot of nutmeg to add punch to a recipe. Nutmeg is a seed and the source of powdered nutmeg. / Photo from Herusutimbul via Wikimedia Commons.

By Elizabeth DiGregorio

Elizabeth DiGregorio worked with Kitchen Detail’s Nancy Pollard as a recipe writer and developer. She bought Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking in 1967 and has been cooking ever since. For her part, Nancy Pollard, after owning one of the best cooking stores in the US for 47 years—La Cuisine: The Cook’s Resource in Alexandria, Virginia—writes Kitchen Detail, a blog about food in all its aspects—recipes, film, books, travel, superior sources, and food-related issues.

HAVE YOU ever grated nutmeg into a recipe, then tossed out the few remaining chips without a second thought? We have all been there, done that. We pull out the nutmeg for holiday recipes or maybe to flavor a cream sauce without a thought to its spicy history. But did you know that every teaspoon of the stuff boasts a pedigree of folklore, medicinal cures, aphrodisiacs, hallucinogens, secret beverage recipes, trade wars, island domination, genocide, and a historic land trade?

This small nut, Myrsitica fragrans (it means “fragrantly musky”) was used by ancient East Indians and the Chinese for medicine. Arab traders, who successfully flummoxed Europeans for years about the origins of the spices they traded, first took it to England in the 13th century. Over the centuries, people carried nutmeg to ward off evil, ensure good health, protect against the plague, enhance their sexual antics, and flavor punches and rums. In the 18th century,  English gentlemen carried silver nutmeg graters in their waistcoats along with their hip flasks, snuffboxes, and traveling three-pronged forks. In the 19th century in England, perfumes featured  nutmeg in their aroma profile, adding a spicy, musky smell to the wearer and winning the moniker “the sorcerer’s scent.”

Is Nothing Sacred?

Coca-Cola, enriched by nutmeg. / Photo from Wikipedia Commons.

Nutmeg consumed in large quantities (up to 2 tablespoons of freshly grated) can indeed produce hallucinogenic effects, even though it does not cure the Plague. Nutmeg became the substitute ingredient for cocaine in the manufacture of cola sodas when its usage was banned. Coca-Cola and Pepsi today each buy more than 400,000 liters of nutmeg oil annually.

The story of the nutmeg trade and how the English struggled with the Dutch to get into the lucrative East Indian nutmeg trade in the 1600s is chronicled in English author Giles Milton’s Nathaniel’s Nutmeg: or, The True and Incredible Adventures of the Spice Trader Who Changed the Course of History.  This true story recounts the brutal spice wars and the lust for power, trade, and domination of the indigenous people of the Indonesian islands where nutmeg was produced in abundance. In this  startling study about the pursuit of nutmeg, Milton brings into focus Nathaniel Courthope, the man who was pivotal in one of the greatest land swaps in history. Nutmeg made rich English and Dutch men richer and decimated the natives of the Indonesian islands. In fact, it was the Dutch who created the foundation of capitalism (and some would say literally Cutthroat Capitalism) in order to crack the spice-trade stranglehold of the Portuguese, particularly for nutmeg. At the height of the trade wars, nutmeg was resold at a 60,000% mark-up, and one pound was worth seven fat oxen.

The United States, especially New York, owes a special debt of gratitude to this little nut. To end the standoff and the bloodshed between the Dutch and the English, the 1667 Treaty of Breda settled the  exhausting and long-running conflict over ownership of the Spice Islands. It  gave the British-controlled and rich nutmeg-covered Isle of Run to the Dutch and awarded  the “valueless land on the other side of the new world” known as New Amsterdam to the British, who promptly renamed it New York. And now, Run, which was marked on every maritime navigation map for centuries, is no longer cartographically acknowledged.

The English had the last laugh. In addition to getting what is now New York, before they left the Isle of Run and the Moluccas, they uprooted many of  the plants and transported them to their colony, Sri Lanka . . . thus ending the monopoly on nutmeg.

Nutmeg or Mace?

Both are part of the same fruit: Mace is the vein-like threads that cover the dried fruit; nutmeg is the kernel inside the seed. Mace is spicier and has more kick, like cinnamon and pepper. Nutmeg is warmer, nuttier, gentler in recipes. In a pinch, you can interchange them, but just watch the amount of mace used to substitute for nutmeg. It gives a subtle flavor to a cheese soufflés, quiches, and gnocchi. And it is the secret to some Bolognese ragù recipes. To paraphrase an article from Serious Eats, of mace Max Falkowitz writes:

“Imagine a cross between nutmeg and coriander, tinged with citrus and cinnamon. Add to that the same nostril-widening properties that nutmeg, mint, and basil share. Then add the complexity of raw sugar.  That’s mace.”

On their advice, Nancy has used it in peach and raspberry desserts, and mace hits the right notes. Nutmeg is a deeper flavor while mace is a bit more of a topnote. Nancy adapted the Nutmeg Ice Cream recipe below from the 1991 Gourmet Cookbook. As it is time to make Stephanie’s Pumpkin Cookies, this is the perfect accessory.