The Victorians, with their big trees, lavish decorations and plump turkeys, may have invented modern Christmas, but if you want to find the source of some of our most cherished festive flavours, you need to go much further back. Spices, which we have coveted and fought over for centuries, are among the defining notes of our festive kitchen, laced through the cakes, puddings, stews and brews that have helped keep out the winter chill since medieval times.
Few of us can breathe in the sweet perfume of cinnamon, say, or the hot, sharp whiff of cloves and not come over a bit warm and glowy. Add nutmeg to the mix, with its intensely aromatic, crisp scent, and you have Christmas on a plate.
But there's no need to reserve these heady ingredients for purely festive fare. What fresh herbs so often do for summery cooking – enhancing and underlining the natural flavours of good raw ingredients – spices can ably achieve in our darker months. They can add great depth and complexity not just to puds and cakes, but to meaty, fruity or even vegetably things. Parsnips and pumpkins, for instance, love a bit of spice.
Cinnamon can be divisive – I'm among the many who don't care for it when used too liberally – but its warm, smoky sweetness can be exceptionally good with red meat, fruit and preserves, or in sweet dishes. The trick is to balance it with harder, sharper flavours, which is why it works so well with nutmeg and cloves. Citrus zests and juices are also amazingly good partners for cinnamon – not only the classic orange, but much sharper lemon (andeven lime or grapefruit), too.
The fragrant dried bark of a tree native to Sri Lanka, cinnamon tires quickly in its ground form, sobuy it in sticks, or "quills", for infusing into curries, drinks and syrups, and keep the musky powder, regularly replaced, for soups, cakes, cookies or anything requiring a smooth finish. Cinnamon is the thing in your spice rack most likely to vary in quality from supplier to supplier. Sometimes it can be insipid, at other times too harsh, particularly if mixed with or replaced by ground cassia bark, a closely related but more bitter spice. It's rarely possible to try before you buy, of course, but check the label and stick to brands that offer a sweet, fresh smell as soon as you pop the lid.
Cloves – tiny dried flowerbuds – are a deliciously dark spice with a unique hot, pungent flavour. That tang comes from a compound called eugenol, which is also found, at lower levels, in cinnamon. Food writer Tom Stobart once said that cloves "are best when kept below the level of recognition". I'm not sure I'd go that far, but it's certainly easy to use too many. Infusing whole cloves in liquid is often the safest path. However, there are times when a pinch of ground cloves gives the intensity youneed; just add with caution.
Nutmeg, on the other hand, is aforgiving spice. Although it has a delicate bitterness beneath its woody, perfumed scent, you can use it quite generously. Always buy whole nutmegs and grate them freshly, on a fine grater, directly into your dish (the gorgeous aroma is lost if the ground spice is stored for any time). It gives definition to smooth, milky dishes such as rice puddings, white sauces and custards, but I frequently add it to spinach dishes, too, and it's very good in buttery mashed potato.
This spicy trio is usually found in the ready-blended "mixed spice" that defines the welcoming aroma ofChristmas cakes, mincemeat and seasonal biscuits, but I think it's more fun, and dependably more delicious, to use them separately.
Another good way to spike your cooking with a good blend of spice isto add well-spiced preserves or sauces. A fruity chutney, sweet and tangy with spices that have mingled and mellowed over time, adds aromatic backbone to a tagine or curry, while a clove-rich homemade tomato ketchup is an excellent addition to a beany, bacony stew.
However you use them, these spices are pretty much guaranteed to turn on the twinkly lights, raise afew smiles and spread a warm, generous glow.
Roasted, spiced squash mash
Sultry warm spices mingle exotically with the sweet squash. Delicious with roasted lamb or grilled chops. Serves three to four as a side dish
1kg squash such as butternut or crown prince
Sea salt and freshly ground blackpepper
2 tbsp olive oil, plus a little extra, forroasting the squash
1 onion, peeled and finely chopped
1 garlic clove, peeled and crushed or finely grated
1 tsp ground cinnamon
A good grating of nutmeg
Finely grated zest of ½ lemon
2 tbsp pumpkin seeds (optional)
A pinch of chilli flakes (optional)
Heat the oven to 190C/375F/gas mark 5. Cut the squash into four, scoop out the seeds and place cut side up in a roasting tray. Brush lightly with oil, season well and roast for 50-60 minutes, until soft.
Meanwhile, heat the oil in a saucepan over a medium-low heat and add the onion. Fry for 10-15 minutes, until soft, add the garlic, fry for a couple of minutes more, then add the cinnamon, nutmeg, lemon zest and plenty of salt and pepper. Stir for a minute, then take off the heat.
If you want to finish the mash with pumpkin seeds, heat half atablespoon of olive oil in a frying pan over a medium-low heat, add the pumpkin seeds and fry gently for a couple of minutes, until they start to pop. Drain on kitchen paper, then sprinkle with salt.
Scoop the soft, hot flesh off the squash skin and drop straight into the pan with the spicy onion mix. Either mash the squash flesh and the onions with a potato masher or blitz them with a stick blender to get a more purée-like texture. The type of squash you use will dictate the texture of the mash: a dryish squash such as crown prince will give a dry, fluffy mash (add a little butter or hot milk to soften it a touch, if you like). Butternut, on the other hand, will give a softer, looser finish. Either way, serve piping hot, sprinkled with chilli flakes and/or pumpkin seeds, if using, with roasted or grilled lamb and wilted greens or spinach.
Mulled wine
It's hard to beat this for a warm welcome, though you can ring the changes by swapping cider for the wine. These quantities serve six, so scale up the recipe as necessary.
1 large orange
100g caster sugar
2-3 strips lemon zest
About half a dozen cloves
2 cinnamon sticks
A good grating of nutmeg
2-3 star anise
1 bottle red wine (cabernet sauvignon or chianti)
A shot of brandy (optional)
Pare half a dozen strips of zest from the orange and put them in a large saucepan. Squeeze in the juice of the orange, too, then add the sugar, lemon zest and spices. Heat gently, stirring, to dissolve the sugar, then simmer for a couple of minutes. Addthe wine (and brandy, if using), bring to steaming, almost-simmering point, then turn off the heat and it's ready to serve. I like to make this a few hours in advance, leave it to cool and the flavours to deepen, then reheat very gently before serving.
Spiced figs
These are very versatile. They make a lovely, simple pudding with some thick plain yoghurt or crème fraîche, but I also like them in a savoury context, with a big, glazed, baked ham at Christmas (where, of course, cloves studded into the sugary, mustardy crust of the joint also come into play). Serves six.
500g soft dried figs
1 tea bag
50g light soft brown sugar
3-4 strips orange zest
3-4 strips lemon zest
1 cinnamon stick
4 cloves
½ vanilla pod
Trim off the tough little stalk at the top of each fig. Put the figs into alarge bowl, boil the kettle, then make up 500ml of tea, using the tea bag. Leave it to brew for two to three minutes, then remove the tea bag and pour the hot tea over the figs. Leave to soak until the tea has cooled down to room temperature.
Drain the liquid into a saucepan. Add the sugar, citrus zest and spices. Bring to a simmer and cook for about five minutes, until lightly syrupy. Pour over the figs and leave to cool completely. Serve chilled as apudding, or at room temperature as an accompaniment to baked ham (in which case you may want to hold back a little of the syrup).
