High-quality craft vinegars can be as nuanced as extra virgin olive oil, as varied in flavour and viscosity as a fine wine.

VINEGAR  IS  THE  QUINTESSENTIAL  SOUR  TASTE.  A MIX  OF  ACETIC  ACID AND 
 water, whose name is derived from the French words “vin aigre” (sour wine), its lip-puckering flavour is so familiar we take it for granted. Which makes sense given vinegar has been a part of human history since the Babylonians discovered a bottle of sour fig wine 5,000 years ago.
 
That distinctive taste is important for digestion, activating salivary fluids and encouraging bile flow so our livers are up to the mighty task of processing nutrients and waste products.
 
Vinegar-making is a two-step fermentation process. Yeast feeds on the sugars from fruits such as apples and grapes or grains such as rice and barley. (Vinegar can be made from just about anything organic, but these are the most popular.) The resulting liquid ferments into alcohol, which is then exposed to oxygen and the Acetobacter bacteria to ferment again. Although vinegar-making is an ancient art, it was the modern scientist Louis Pasteur who identified its key bacteria.
 
That sour brew can be as nuanced as extra virgin olive oil, as varied in flavour and viscosity as a fine wine. Indeed, some vinegars start life as red or white wine, sherry or champagne. Others begin with the raw ingredients—apples, rice, barley, grapes—to make alcohol, then go through the second fermentation.
 
Some have a clean, sharp, neutral flavour like distilled white vinegar made from grain alcohol, which can clock in as high as 10 per cent acetic acid. On the other end of the complexity spectrum are the mellow, aged balsamics and the dense, malty, less acidic black rice vinegars so important in authentic hot and sour soup.
 
Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands are home to some fine acetic acid artisans. In the Cowichan Valley, Venturi-Schulze makes balsamic vinegar, simmering their own grapes over an open fire and aging the result in French oak barrels, some of it for as long as 30 years. Metchosin’s Bilston Creek apple cider vinegar (ACV) is made from a blend of their own heritage apples hand-pressed in early fall and aged for a deep flavour. On Gabriola, Ravenskill Orchards is also brewing ACV from local island apples. Spinnakers has been fermenting its own malt version since the day Paul Hadfield discovered a neglected bottle of Hefeweisen had turned into a tantalizing condiment.
 
Over on Salt Spring Island, Bree Eagle is also crafting malt vinegars from local brews such as Dry Porter and British IPA, as well as fully fermented, raw, unpasteurized vinegars from local fruits. She emphasizes that these aren’t infused vinegars. “Our raspberry vinegar is not simply white wine vinegar that had some raspberries soaking in it for a while. It is actually made directly from the fruit.”  
 
Having dabbled in making fruit vinegars myself, I can tell you this is a very different flavour, with a depth and character more akin to wine. Bree makes her fruit wine and balsamic-style vinegars with ingredients like rhubarb, figs, strawberries, grapefruit, elderberries, and oak-aged blackberries,
 
These kinds of vinegars are a zingy addition to savoury food—brightening flavours and cutting through fat to add balance to a rich dish. Vinegar-lovers are also adding them to cocktails, even desserts. And, of course, this is salad season and good quality vinegars make the best vinaigrettes.
 
The ancients considered vinegar a medicine and an essential preservative.
Science suggests it may not be quite the panacea some modern health sources claim but it does show promise for diabetics. According to Harvard University, a meta-analysis of 11 small clinical trials observed that individuals taking vinegar (2-4 teaspoons daily) “significantly reduced” glucose and insulin levels after meals. And a small pilot study of 14 diabetics who took vinegar twice daily with meals reduced their fasting glucose at 12 weeks.
 
Herbalist know well that vinegar efficiently extracts the medicinal properties of herbs and, similarly, craft vinegars contain all the goodness of their ingredients. Balsamics, for example, contain iron, calcium, potassium, manganese, phosphorus and magnesium—the nutrients of the grapes that made them. ACV’s pectin is an excellent prebiotic—the fibre that feeds our friendly gut bacteria. And since vinegars are low in calories and contain vitamins, mineral salts, amino acids, and antioxidants, there’s good reason to include high-quality, artisan vinegar in your meals whenever possible.  
 
One of my favourite infused vinegars is Four Thieves. The story goes that during a plague in Europe, a band of thieves robbed the graves of those who’d died of the disease but still stayed healthy. Their secret? A herbal tonic now known as Four Thieves Vinegar. When city officials caught up with the bandits, they were given their freedom in exchange for the recipe, which was posted on the city walls so everyone could make it. And we can too.
 
Measure 2 tsps each of crumbled dried sage leaf, lavender flower, rosemary, and thyme, as well as chopped garlic to taste, into a mason jar. Set aside. Slowly heat 16 ounces of apple cider or red wine vinegar to the temperature of warm bath water. (Boiling kills the active good bacteria.)
 
Pour this brew over the herbs and garlic, filling right to the brim. Top with a plastic lid, and store in a cool, dark place for four weeks. Shake the jar to assist in extraction whenever you think of it. Strain vinegar into glass bottles. Whether it wards off our next plague or not, there’s no question artisan vinegars make a healthy addition to any meal. 

This "Good for You" column appeared in the July-August issue of EAT magazine.
 
 

Herbalist and gardener Carolyn Bateman gets into the weeds while delighting in the return of local salad greens.

BEFORE THE INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION AND THE RISE OF FACTORY FARMING, most people survived the winter on what they’d harvested and stored the year before.
      By April, the root cellar was down to a few sprouting potatoes, the shelves of preserves were depleted, and planting season had only just begun. The “Hungry Gap” was upon them.
      We modern folk love spring too, of course, but I like to imagine how it must have been to live 200 years ago and happen upon the first wild greens of spring—a patch of stinging nettles on a forest’s edge or the verdant glow of sheep’s sorrel or bittercress popping out of the ground. Our bodies would crave this green nourishment after a winter of root vegetables and preserved foods—and so would our spirits.
      In a similar way, I feel the thrill of that return to leafy green eating when the first young sprigs of lettuce, kale, chard, and spinach start appearing in our gardens and farmer’s markets. Winter is truly over and, glory be, we survived and can eat fresh-picked salads again! Modern science backs up our body’s natural movement towards green food in spring. All systems of the body, from digestive to immune to lymphatic, are improved with a diet rich in dark, leafy vegetables. (And we’re not talking iceberg lettuce here, or even butter lettuce really. The darker the green and the more colourful the leaf, the more free-radical-neutralizing antioxidants it contains.
      Take that poster child for leafy green goodness, kale. Love it or leave it, it can’t be denied that a cup of raw kale delivers a whopping payload of A-Z nutrition: vitamins A, B6, C, E, and K; minerals copper, calcium, magnesium, iron, manganese, potassium, phosphorus, and zinc; a range of antioxidants; and, of course, fibre. All packed into about 33 calories and seven grams of carbohydrate. In fact, most dark, leafy greens will provide you with a similar multivitamin experience in your salad.
      So, as lovely as lettuce is, many other leaves are worth a try. There are the brassicas such as kale, collard greens, turnip greens, Chinese cabbage, and bok choy, including the piquant mustards mizuna and tatsoi. The bitter greens of the chicory family include curly endive (a.k.a. frisée), radicchio, and escarole, providing the bitter taste our digestive systems need.  Amaranth greens such as chard, lamb’s quarters, and orach have the added benefit of more protein than most greens. And then there are all the wild and weedy species, like perennial arugula (hardier and spicier than annual varieties), watercress and bittercress, dandelions, miner’s lettuce, purslane, sorrels, mâche or corn salad, stidolo (also known as bladder campion), lanceleaf plantain, and chickweed. Young leaves can be torn and tossed into your salad, and more mature leaves chopped fine before adding, just to give your digestive system a little help. The oil in a healthy dressing will support the body in absorbing those important nutrients.
      You may not find all of these unusual greens in your local grocery store, but most salad mixes from farm stands, CSAs (community-supported agriculture), and farmer’s markets will include many of these varieties. For a complete list of Island markets, go to bcfarmersmarkettrail.com.  You may even be able to forage some of these in your unsprayed lawn and garden beds (I love weeds if I can eat them). 
      Greens don’t take a lot of space so they’re perfect in containers on a patio or balcony. Full Circle Seeds in Sooke sells three different salad-mix seed packets for cool weather, hot weather, and all-weather, giving gardeners an array of leaf sizes, shapes, and colours. Metchosin Farm’s all-weather salad mix seeds include lettuces, kale, mustard, orach, Swiss chard, and other greens. Saanich Organics’ Seeds of the Revolution offers gardeners a wide selection of unusual salad greens—make your own mixes or try one of theirs.
      And of course, you needn’t restricted yourself to salads. I sometimes sprinkle a handful of torn and tender greens on top of a pizza just after it comes out of the oven as they do in Italy. My springtime frittatas and stratas are more green than egg-yellow. And I love making a quick green aioli with a dollop of mayonnaise, one of Dijon mustard, extra virgin olive oil, lemon juice, lots of pressed garlic, finely chopped chives, and whatever salad greens I have on hand from the garden. It’s yummy with roasted sweet potatoes or drizzled on a grain bowl. Add some dill or French tarragon and you’ve made a tasty sauce for fish. Sometimes I’ll add miso for that unmistakeable umami flavour. You can whiz it in the food processor, but I prefer the chunkiness that finely hand-chopping the greens gives the sauce.
      That texture reminds me that these beautiful leaves came out of the rich and life-giving soil. “In some Native languages,” says author, scientist, and professor Robin Wall Kimmerer of the Potawatomi Nation, “the term for plants translates to ‘those who take care of us.’”
 From my "GOOD FOR YOU" bi-monthly column in EAT magazine. May-June 2023
​PHOTO BY CAROLYN BATEMAN