How Sweet It Is

The garnet-colored liquid that ermes Malpighi poured from the small, time-worn barrel was so thick and concentrated that it took a good quarter of a minute for it to flow like some precious sap into the ceramic spoon I held in my hand. As we stood in a chilly attic in his house on the outskirts of Modena in Italy’s Emilia Romagna region, where he ages his astonishing balsamic vinegars, the master distiller motioned me to taste the rare aceto balsamico traditionale made in 1880 by his grandfather. Its flavor blossomed in my mouth: luscious, stunningly complex, reminiscent of old Port and berries with suggestions of caramel and wood--a perfect balance of acidity and sweetness. It was an experience that forever changed my expectations of what a balsamic vinegar should be. It was how I, a person of modest means, now come to routinely invest $150 for the divine stuff--about 31/2 ounces of extra vecchio balsamic vinegar.

This elixir had nothing to do with what I knew to be balsamic, the sweet, inexpensive, factory-made vinegar that has become ubiquitous in America. Malpighi’s seemed not to be a vinegar at all, but rather a rare essence of extraordinary richness. Its great expense lies in how it is made, a process that dates back 1,000 years and has been passed down through generations of families like Malpighi’s in the northern Italian provinces of Modena and Reggio Emilia. A concentrate of fresh juice from Trebbiano wine grapes is fermented and mellowed for years in progressively smaller wooden barrels made of different woods--chestnut, oak, cherry, ash, mulberry and juniper--each imparting its own flavor.

It takes about 200 pounds of grapes to yield four cups of 25-year-old balsamic vinegar. The basic method is open to many variables, from the age of the barrels to the bacteria in the air surrounding Modena and neighboring Reggio Emilia that helps give their balsamic vinegar its distinctive flavor, to the skill and sensibilities of the artisan making it. Balsamic vinegars that have been approved by consortiums in Modena or Reggio Emilia have met strict criteria and are your assurance of getting the real thing. The bottles bear a consortium seal and the words “Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale di Modena” or “de Emilia.” The word vecchio indicates that it has been aged at least 12 years, making the price less dear at about $75 for 31/2 ounces. The higher-end extra vecchio has been aged at least 25 years.

The great balsamic vinegars are never cooked; they are used like an exquisite ornament to adorn simple foods. Like a shaved truffle, a balsamic vinegar completes the dish, intensifying the flavor of whatever it touches. In Italy, I savored balsamic vinegars drizzled over grilled trout and fried fish, on zabaglione, over risottos and roasted potatoes and--as the ultimate hors d’oeuvre--on small chunks of the region’s great Parmigiano Reggiano. I also indulged in an intoxicating midnight snack of local cherries dipped in balsamic vinegar, and another time, a fine vanilla ice cream laced with the ruby liquid.

Once home, I began to use balsamic vinegar to forge quick, sublime meals for myself and friends. To me, artisanal bargains are really a bargain. What other scant teaspoon of food can easily transform a dish? It is so concentrated that 3/4 of a teaspoon is a luxurious serving; a bottle, while costly, lasts a long time. If I had only one ingredient to rely on in cooking--next to olive oil and sea salt--it would be this wonderful elixir.

Food stylist: Christine Anthony-Masterson (BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX / INFOGRAPHIC)

Caramelized Pears with Artisanal Balsamic Vinegar

Makes 4 servings

*

4 large not-quite-ripe pears (11/2 pounds)

3/4 cup sweet dessert wine such as Muscat de Beaumes-de-Venise, Sauternes, Barzac or Montbazillac

2 teaspoons unsalted butter

1/2 vanilla bean, split lengthwise

11/2 tablespoons sugar

Vanilla ice cream

Aceto Balsamic Tradizionale from Modena or Reggio Emilia, preferably Extra Vecchio.*

*

Preheat the oven to 375. Peel the pears. Cut them in half lengthwise through the stem and scoop out the core and seeds; if possible leave the stem intact. Arrange the pear halves cut side down in a large skillet or flameproof baking dish. Pour 1/2 cup of the wine over the fruit. Scrape the vanilla seeds into the wine and nestle the bean among the pears. Dot the pears with the butter. Bring to a boil over moderate heat. Cover loosely with foil and bake 35 minutes, brushing occasionally with the wine. Turn the pears over, cover loosely and bake 15 minutes longer, brushing them frequently.

Set the skillet over moderate heat and add the remaining 1/4 cup wine. Simmer until the liquid is syrupy, about 3 minutes. Turn the pears over to where they are again cut-side-down and sprinkle with the sugar. Bake an additional 10 to 15 minutes, brushing them frequently, until they are tender and nicely glazed and the syrup is thick. If the wine is evaporating too quickly, add a little more wine or warm water to the baking dish to dissolve the caramelized juices into a thick glaze.