Can you please explain tamarind? Pods, pulp, paste, concentrate … I can’t keep up with them all. David, via email
How does Chaya Maya, development chef at Ottolenghi Test Kitchen, love tamarind? Let her count the ways: “It’s delicious, plus you can use it in sweet and savoury dishes, or to make lemonade, which we do in Mauritius; it has that sour sharpness that makes your mouth tingle. Actually, we need a tamarind movement.” Also in favour of the pucker fruit is Melissa Thompson, author of Motherland, namely for its “lovely consistency” and ability to “coat things nicely” while adding “depth”.
As David says, tamarind comes in various forms, but let’s start at the very beginning with those peanut-shaped pods, which Thompson likes to snack on – just crack open the shell and eat the flesh. “When I started cheffing, I wanted to do all the processes myself, so I’d buy a box of pods, peel them, soak them and mash them, which took so long!” Perhaps unsurprisingly, these days she prefers a compressed block, which also happens to be Maya’s go-to: “You have to hydrate it, then make a paste, but the blocks last longer, plus the manufacturer will have waited until the tamarind is ripe, so it’s sweet and caramelly.” Perfect, then, for Thompson’s barbecue sauce, which involves breaking off 50g pulp, steeping it in water and combining with apple molasses, but the possibilities are (almost) endless: “A block is the most versatile option, but only for someone who gets through a lot.”
Perhaps easier is a jar of paste, which is readily available in supermarkets, or tamarind concentrate. “Depending on where it’s from [predominantly Thailand and India], it tastes quite different, which can cause confusion,” says Feast’s own Helen Goh, whose first solo book, Baking and the Meaning of Life, is out in September. “I only ever use Thai or Malaysian tamarind, which is fruity, bright, smooth, liquidy and brown; Indian tamarind, by contrast, is darker, almost black, and far more concentrated and intense.” Add a spoonful for instant oomph in soups, stews, meat marinades or anywhere you might otherwise turn to citrus. “It’s not quite the same as a block, but it’s still pretty delicious,” Maya says. “Just watch out when seasoning, because the jarred stuff is often already salted.” She suggests adding lime juice to loosen, then flavouring with crushed garlic, chopped spring onion and fresh chilli, plus salt and sugar to taste. “Roast some fish, pour on the tamarind mix and it’s the best. If you’ve got crispy onions, pile them on top as well.” Thompson, meanwhile, would use her noodle: “Make a dressing by watering down tamarind paste, add vinegar, honey, chopped shallot, garlic, lime juice and zest, and pour over a cold noodle salad.”
Pineapple and tamarind are synonymous with Malaysia, where Goh grew up, and she says that duo are particularly welcome in an upside-down cake: “Tamarind concentrate goes into the caramel,which is poured into a cake tin. Lay pineapple on top, pour in the cake batter, then bake – it melts into a gooey, syrupy thing that I love.” There’s also tamarind extract, but Thompson would be inclined to leave that well alone: “People tend to come unstuck with that because it is so concentrated.” That said, it works a dream in vegan fish sauce, which is yet more proof that sweet-sour tamarind really does make everything better.
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