A Tribute to Allspice

Lamb Kofte, Comfort Rice and a Happy Accident Soup

Sunny yellow tulips in my kitchen this week

Allspice is a spice oft-overlooked or in the very least underrated. It is often relegated to the back of the spice cupboard only to emerge during the holiday season for making pies or cookies (biscuits).

This week I found myself using, and subsequently thinking a lot about, allspice. I go through phases in which I forget that allspice exists at all, and then all of sudden I can’t imagine not using it everything. Indeed it is not a glamorous spice, it doesn’t have the luminous colour of turmeric or the distinctive, heady romance of cardamom. Allspice is a spice that is subtle, it doesn’t scream at you, and therefore, it doesn’t get a whole lot of attention. And yet, it is a foundational component of such a diverse range of cuisines. It is impossible to imagine Jamaican, Middle Eastern or Nordic cuisine without allspice, just to name a few.

Allspice is the fruit of a myrtle tree native to the West Indies, Central America and southern Mexico. In Jamaica where it was originally cultivated for export, it is called pimento- because it resembles and was mistaken for peppercorns by early European colonisers- and forms the basis of Jerk seasoning among other dishes. It was named “allspice” by the English in the 1600s because its flavour resembles a mix of cinnamon, nutmeg and clove.

Allspice has a very grounding flavour. It is a base line, rather than a melody. It is that flavour that is so often present but easily goes undetected, like a distant memory you can’t put your finger on. It is a warm spice that adds depth and body, a deep constant note rather than a high-pitched staccato.

It was my son’s birthday this week. I made meatballs and tomato sauce, with allspice. They were good enough, but more so they reminded me of how much better lamb kofte are. I have included the recipe for those here, the same ones I used to make sometimes at Ochre when we first opened, and one of my favorite things to make for others and eat for myself. I also made a lovely accidental soup, my favorite kind, and a simple but soulful rice and lentil dish that I ate with roast chicken cooked with turmeric and cumin, the leftovers of which became the base of the soup.

Farro, parsnip, kale and chicken soup w warming spices

This is an unusual but very good dish: a bit of an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink, vaguely middle eastern flavoured minestrone-esq soup! I made broth from the chicken I had roasted the night before in turmeric and cumin which added extra depth of flavour to the soup, and as always I don’t really skim the fat, it adds flavour and richness to a brothy soup.

It would also be very good as a vegan dish, simply use vegetable broth (it would be especially good if this was made with a few dried mushrooms thrown in), bulk up the chickpeas and give it a generous lick of olive oil to serve.

I love parsnip and don’t often see it used in the US, though it is fairly common in Australia. I enjoy it’s sweet, gentle aniseed flavour and sturdy, sometimes bordering on woody, texture. If you cannot find it, feel free to substitute a large carrot or 1/2 a sweet potato.