The Sandpoint Eater: Makes scents

By Marcia Pilgeram
Reader Columnist

When I returned home from my most recent travels and opened the 60-pound suitcase that I’d carried far too often the previous two weeks, it carried me right back to Istanbul. Closing my eyes and inhaling the treasures within — the intoxicating fragrances of star anise pods, saffron threads and plump nutmegs — took me right back to a most unforgettable day exploring the ancient Istanbul Spice Bazaar. Nearly 400 years old, this magnificent mosque-style structure houses more than 85 shops selling spices, Turkish delight, and dried fruit and nuts.

Visiting the Spice Bazaar was at the top of my Istanbul list. It was about a 20-minute walk from my hotel; and, given my propensity for getting lost (often and everywhere), I gave myself an hour to locate the Bosphorus River and cross the Galata Bridge. 

My early morning walk offered stunning skyline views — a juxtaposition of new skyscrapers and ancient mosques. The bridge was filled with hopeful fishermen balancing poles while sharing cigarettes, animated conversation and bits of bait with hungry stray cats.

The bridge had two levels: the top level was for vehicle and foot traffic (and fishermen), and the lower level was filled with aromatic shops offering myriad varieties of gözleme (savory stuffed turnover made with unleavened dough then baked on a hot griddle), sweet pastries, Turkish coffee and hot apple tea, which I sampled and found fragrant and delicious.

I arrived at the bazaar and somehow wandered through the workers’ entrance, only to learn I was about 15 minutes early. As I was about to exit and await the official opening, a kind vendor encouraged me to stroll the quiet bazaar and capture some good photos while I waited for the 8 a.m. opening.

My senses were overloaded between the centuries-old architecture of bright, colorful turquoise tiles and Ottoman stone and the spice scents that filled the air. I wandered around, captivated by the pungent aromas of cumin, saffron, star anise and countless other less-familiar spices. I was also captivated by Cem, the shopkeeper in stall NO:51. When I began to inquire about his saffron, he welcomed me in like a long-lost friend, insisting I take a seat and share in a ritualistic Turkish coffee before I began to shop. 

In between sips of the strong brew, he proudly pointed out his photos with famous shoppers, like Rick Steves and Martha Stewart, which adorned a wall. When I gave him my business card (featuring the likeness of me used for this column), he quickly determined I was wall-worthy, too, and insisted we pose for a picture.

Though small, his space was engaging, lively and spotless. He explained every detail of saffron to me (everything I thought I knew and didn’t) and took the time to have me experience every variety he had in his stall. Only one crocus flower in the world produces saffron, and I learned that the longer the delicate threads, the more expensive the spice — as much as $ 5,000 per kilogram. 

When I think of saffron, Spain (and paella) comes to mind, but Cem explained that the world’s finest saffron is grown in Iran. It was markedly apparent as I smelled and tasted each variety, noting the fragrance, flavor and color.

I’ve always had saffron in my spice collection for use in savory dishes, such as paella and stew, but I had never before tasted it in desserts, and what a fabulous culinary experience! It doesn’t take much to infuse a cake or pudding, but the distinct taste and its brilliant golden hue can produce an array of tasty, sweet offerings.

Saffron is also rich in antioxidants that fight against cancer and heart disease, and research suggests it might even reduce inflammation in the brain (I’d guess they aren’t using the $5,000-per-kilogram variety in research). Due to its mood-enhancing properties, it’s often called the sunshine spice and is used to treat depression.

I’m grateful that I don’t have any depression that needs treatment. But I will admit, the first bite of the saffron cake made me pretty darn happy! Bake some up, and see if you agree.

Orange saffron cake
Serves 10-12

This dense and aromatic cake won me over. Star anise can overpower the saffron, so use steep pods only (not powdered anise).

Ingredients:

• ¼ cup boiling water

• ½ tsp saffron threads (don’t crush) 

• 6 star anise pods

• ¾ cup buttermilk

• 2 Tbs fresh orange juice (zest before juicing)

• Zest of 1 orange (save some for glaze)

• 1 tsp pure vanilla extract

• 3 cups all-purpose flour

• ½ tsp salt

• 1 tsp baking powder

• 1 tsp teaspoon baking soda

• 2 and 1/4 sticks (1 ⅛ cup) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature

• 2 cups granulated sugar

• 3 large eggs at room temperature

• 1 large egg yolk at room temperature 

• 1 cup finely chopped pistachios

Glaze:

• 2 cups powdered sugar

• 2 Tbs fresh orange juice 

• Remaining zest

Directions:

Preheat oven to 350 F. 

Grease a 12-cup bundt pan with butter (or use baking spray).

In a small glass bowl, place saffron threads, star anise pods and add hot water. Cover and steep for 15 minutes. Remove the pods (but leave the threads).

Add buttermilk, vanilla, orange juice and zest to the saffron mixture and whisk.

In a separate large bowl, sift flour, salt, baking powder and baking soda and whisk well. 

Cream butter and sugar in standup mixer on medium, until fluffy and pale.

Beat in eggs, one at a time, and finish with the egg yolk. 

Begin adding flour mixture, alternating with liquid saffron mixture. Mixing on low after each addition. By hand, fold in the pistachios and blend well.

Pour batter into the bundt cake and bake for 45-50 minutes, or until a toothpick inserted in the middle comes out clean. Let the cake cool for 10 minutes in the pan, carefully turn out onto rack, then let it cool completely. Whisk powdered sugar and orange juice until smooth, pour over the cake. Sprinkle remaining zest.