That’s what I said out loud, and to nobody in particular, as I was finishing this morning’s piece of toasted rye bread. It was the taste of caraway seeds that seemed to be the source of my particular enjoyment of said piece of toast (and the second one which quickly followed it!).
I somehow get the feeling, though, that caraway seeds are not front and centre in many peoples spice racks (am I wrong?). It’s undoubtedly an ancient spice, likely to have been used in the Stone Age, certainly used by the ancient Egyptians, and quite fashionable in Elizabethan and, later, in Victorian times. It’s also pretty popular in traditional German and Eastern European fare, but not really featured much around these parts, guv (except, perhaps, in the odd bit of rye bread from your local Eastern European shop).
Could it be that it has just fallen out of flavour? (sorry, just couldn’t resist that one…!)
Personally, I love caraway. I have some in my cupboard but must admit that, until recently, I rarely thought of using it. Not sure why, because I remember having plain white scones with caraway seeds as a child and loving them. I knew I should just up and make some, but there was that nagging suspicion that they wouldn’t be to everyone’s taste (which, if I think about it for a nanosecond, is a shame for everyone else but not really a problem for me!).
But now I find that caraway is making a comeback (well, in my kitchen that is), ever since I discovered the delight that is cabbage stirfried with caraway seeds. I mean, if you can stirfry spinach with nutmeg, then why not cabbage with caraway. It turns out that caraway also teams with the salted, fermented version of cabbage that is sauerkraut (though I haven’t tried that one yet). All of which is very good news for someone who both likes her caraway and finds cabbage a challenge betimes.
And now, after all that, I think it’s high time I went and made myself those scones…
Baked in almost anything but fab with steamed carrots