My first exposure to cardamom occurred decades ago when a family friend taught me how to make “Indian tea” by boiling cardamom pods with milk and strong black Assam tea from India.
 
I’d never seen the exotic-looking green pods before and was mesmerized as I watched them dance in the roiling liquid.
 
I immediately fell in love with the sweetened concoction and made it through the years, long before the spicy drink we know as “chai tea” became a happy staple at every corner espresso shop.
 
Since then, I’ve discovered that the delightfully spicy taste of cardamom can be enjoyed in other ways: in Indian and African cuisines, in Turkish coffee and as a mouth-watering ingredient in baked goods, to name a few.
 
There’s nothing quite like the pungent, earthy, piney, citrusy taste and smell of cardamom. Its unique heavenly flavor no doubt inspired one of its other names, “grains of paradise.”
 
Cardamom is used primarily for culinary purposes, though it has a minor past reputation as a medicinal and aromatic herb.
 
Its flowers are exquisitely beautiful, like teardrop-shaped orchids, and its enormous, aromatic leaves are sometimes used to scent blanket chests and drawers of linens.
 
This relative of ginger is native to the shady forests of India, Sri Lanka (formerly Ceylon), and Malaysia.
 
Because of its constant need for moisture (it requires as much as 150 inches of annual rainfall) and its desire – as a jungle plant – for partial shade, it’s difficult to cultivate.
 
In addition, each pod must be handpicked. For these reasons, cardamom is one of the most expensive spices by weight, beaten only by saffron and vanilla.
 
Don’t despair, however, as cardamom in all its forms – pods, seeds and ground – is quite affordable in small quantities, meaning the size of the average spice jar. And little is needed to impart flavor.
 
Cardamom is cultivated mainly in India and Guatemala, with most of what we import here in the U.S. sourced from the latter.
 
Cardamom pods are oval in shape with pointed ends, and have a papery green covering. Inside each pod is from ten to twenty dark brown to black seeds. The pods are triangular when cut crosswise.
 
At its freshest, the seeds are sticky. Dry seeds indicate that the aromatic oils have diminished somewhat.
 
There is a closely related plant that produces what’s known as black cardamom (also known as brown, Bengal, Java, or Siamese cardamom).
 
We don’t see much of it here in the U.S. – and, as far as I know, I’ve never tried it – but according to my research, black cardamom has a smokier smell with a cool taste that some say reminds them of mint.
 
Black cardamom pods are dark brown and larger, with wrinkly ruts that remind me of raisins.
 
If you ever see white cardamom pods, it means they’ve been bleached to remove their natural color. I don’t recommend using those.
 
I must admit that a run-through of their use in cuisine makes my mouth water.
 
Gooseberry-cardamom jam and cardamom-fig chutney, for example, pique my taste buds’ interest. I consider them must-tries, and when fresh figs are in season this summer, I may experiment with the chutney.
 
And then there are cardamom snaps, a spin on ginger snap cookies. Delightfully plump with perfectly cracked sugary tops, they may inspire this year’s Christmas baking.
 
What about cardamom butter? Can’t you just imagine that spread deliciously over warm scones, imparting its aromatic flavor?
 
And carrots roasted in cardamom butter are absolutely fabulous!
 
Cardamom works well with other dense orange and yellow veggies, such as sweet potatoes and winter squash.
 
I recently made a version of cardamom-roasted carrots with olive oil, which I mixed with quinoa, currants, and almonds to make a warm salad.
 
I mixed it with fresh baby greens and a bit of balsamic vinegar, but it can also be eaten on its own. It was delicious (if I may say that about my own cooking)!
 
I do admit that I was inspired by a salad I had for lunch at a café last week.
 
One of the Food Network’s bright new personalities, Aarti Sequeira, bakes chicken with a mixture of cardamom butter and orange zest tucked in its skin, inspired by her East Indian roots.
 
Speaking of India, cardamom is a beloved ingredient there in both sweet and savory dishes.
 
The traditional Indian spice blend, garam masala, includes cardamom as a main component, along with cloves, mace, cinnamon, cumin, fennel, black peppercorns, and fenugreek (though there are dozens, if not hundreds, of recipes for this vital flavoring).
 
Cardamom, especially via garam masala, is a key ingredient in curry dishes, both with meat and without.
 
Other areas of the world where cardamom plays a role are in central Africa, where the spicy Ethiopian sauce, berbere, contains cardamom; in Turkey and some Arab countries, where, among other things, cardamom pods are ground with coffee beans to make a fragrant brew; and Scandinavia, where cardamom is used in baking.
 
And speaking of baking, I like mixing cardamom with sugar for sprinkling over baked goods like scones, shortbread and tart crusts. (It’s especially nice with sweets that include strawberries.)
 
When used as a pickling spice or marinade, as it is in many parts of the world, cardamom adds a smoky flavor, a nice contrast to another pickling spice, dill, which adds a somewhat fruity flavor.
 
Its warm, mellow flavor is wonderful with spiced peaches, poached pears, and applesauce.
 
Slow-cooked savory meats, like brisket, lamb shanks, and pulled pork benefit from the addition of cardamom.
 
It marries well with Middle Eastern and North African spice blends that include cumin, coriander, black pepper, and saffron, and with aromatic pie spices like cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg.
 
It goes well with chicken, especially stewed versions, oranges and orange zest (add a pinch to a pint of marmalade), dates and rice, which is nicely flavored by adding a couple of lightly crushed cardamom pods to the cooking water.
 
Aromatically, cardamom is a stimulant like ginger and cinnamon. Try adding seeds to potpourri or sachets, or pouring a tablespoon of seeds into the tub for an invigorating bath.
 
As to health benefits, it’s said that chewing on seeds relieves flatulence and indigestion and sweetens the breath.
 
When shopping for cardamom pods, look for those that are green to yellowish-green. If possible (such as in a spice store where they’re sold in bulk), open a pod to check for plump, sticky seeds.
 
As mentioned, overly dry seeds indicate that aromatic oils have been lost. Stay away from broken pods, as seeds have been exposed to air, which dries them.
 
Cardamom pods should be stored in an air-tight container, where they’ll stay fresh for up to a year.
 
Many suggest grinding seeds fresh from the pod as needed, as they say cardamom quickly loses its flavor, and you can certainly do this if you’re so inclined. A mortar and pestle is good for this purpose, as is a spice grinder. (I dedicate a coffee mill exclusively for grinding spices.)
 
Despite this advice, I’ve had good luck using ground cardamom and have found it remains pungent in the jar (though not forever, of course). I have a little jar of the seeds that are still quite flavorful after having remained sealed in my spice cupboard for at least six months.
 
Do check on the pungency, however, before using in recipes.
 
Today’s recipe is a take on a Scandinavian favorite, cardamom bread. This recipe won first prize in a 2010 Vegetarian Times magazine reader contest.
 
Don’t let the fact that it’s a “veganized” recipe fool you. The bread is absolutely delicious, something I know firsthand because I had the privilege of tasting it at last year’s end-of-season farmers’ market potluck in Kelseyville, Calif.
 
Farmer and Veggie Girl reader Haji Warf brought a loaf still warm from the oven to the potluck, and I won’t easily forget its scent or taste.
 
I’d like to thank Warf for reminding me of the recipe for today’s column. She suggests substituting safflower oil for the canola (since canola is genetically modified), and she offers a tip: she lets the bread rise in the refrigerator overnight, which she says works well.
 
As to the “Indian tea” I learned to make all those years ago, here’s a link if you’d like to learn more about it http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Masala_chai .
 
Though cardamom was the sole flavoring in the version that I was taught, Masala chai, as this type of drink is called in India, can be flavored with other spices, such as ginger, cinnamon and cloves.
 
I enjoy it sweetened with honey.
 
And before I go, did you know Wrigley’s incorporates cardamom as an ingredient in its “Eclipse Exotic Mint Gum?” It even notes on the package that it uses the spice to “neutralize the toughest breath odors.”
 
Based on the cardamom seed I just finished chewing, I’d say it’s pretty effective!
 
No-knead Swedish cardamom braid

2 cups almond milk, plus more for brushing loaf top
2 tablespoons Bob's Red Mill flaxseed meal
⅓ cup agave nectar or Lundberg Farms Sweet Dreams organic brown rice syrup
⅓ cup canola oil
1 tablespoon active dry yeast
1 ½ tsp. salt
1 ½ tsp. whole cardamom seeds, coarsely ground with a mortar and pestle
5 ¼ cups Bob's Red Mill unbleached white flour
2 tablespoons Florida Crystals Demerara sugar, for sprinkling

1. Stir together almond milk, flaxseed meal, agave nectar, oil, yeast, salt and cardamom in large nonreactive bowl with lid. Add flour, and mix thoroughly with wooden spoon. Cover with lid or plastic wrap, and let stand 2 1/2 hours at room temperature. Transfer to refrigerator, and let rest overnight.

2. Coat baking sheet with cooking spray, or line with parchment paper. Remove half of dough from refrigerator; reserve remaining dough for second loaf. (Dough will keep in refrigerator up to 5 days.) Divide dough into 3 equal pieces, and gently roll each piece into 18-inch-long rope on floured work surface. Place dough ropes side by side spaced 2 inches apart on prepared baking sheet. Pinch ends together on one side, and tuck under. Loosely braid dough ropes, then pinch tail ends together. Cover braided loaf loosely with kitchen towel or plastic wrap, and let rest 30 minutes.

3. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 375°F. Brush top of braided loaf with almond milk, and sprinkle generously with sugar. Bake 30 to 45 minutes or until golden brown.
 
Recipe courtesy of www.vegetariantimes.com .

Esther Oertel, a freelance writer, cooking teacher, and speaker, is passionate about local produce and all foods in the vegetable kingdom. She welcomes your questions and comments and may be reached at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it. .