The 5-Ingredient Sweet-and-Sour Sauce That Has a Permanent Place In My Fridge

This homemade tamarind chutney gets its body and mellow sweetness from chewy dates and earthy palm sugar, while ground ginger and Kashmiri red chile powder add subtle spice.

A wide, shallow cream-colored ceramic bowl with brown speckles of glaze on it, holding chunky tamarind chutney and a metal spoon. The bowl is placed on a copper tray and in the top left corner of the image is another similar bowl holding a different sauce.
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

It's rare to find mint chutney without its partner in crime, sweet-and-sour tamarind chutney. Store-bought and restaurant versions are often sickly-sweet, loaded with corn syrup and sugar. Instead, my homemade chutney recipe gets its body and mellow sweetness from chewy dates and earthy palm sugar.

Tamarind can be found in many forms, from jarred concentrates to dried whole pods. Here, I've used seedless tamarind paste, which gives all the flavor of the fresh pods without any of the fuss. A quick steep in hot water softens the dates and tamarind and melts the palm sugar, readying it all to be blended into a smooth chutney.

In a small saucepan, combine dates, tamarind paste, ginger powder, chile powder, sugar, and 3/4 cup (175ml) water and bring to a boil. Remove from heat and set aside, covered, for 10 minutes to soften the tamarind paste and dates. 

A four-image collage. The top left image shows the tamarind paste being transferred from a small white ramekin into a stainless steel pot. The top right image shows the sugar being transferred into the pot. The bottom left image shows the spices being transferred into the pot. The bottom right image shows the ingredients fully incorporated in the pot and coming to a boil.
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

Using a blender, purée until smooth , scraping down the sides of blender jar as needed(if chutney is too thick, add 1 tablespoon of hot water at a time to reach desired consistency), then pass through a fine-mesh strainer to remove any fibrous bits. Store in an airtight container.

A two-image collage. The top image shows the cooked tamarind chutney being poured from a stainless steel pot into a blender. The bottom image shows the interior of the blender bowl holding the thick, blended chutney.
Serious Eats / Vicky Wasik

Special Equipment

Fine mesh strainer

Notes

Kashmiri red chile powder is mild and fruity. If you cannot find it and wish to substitute cayenne pepper, be sure to cut the amount used in the recipe by half.

Make-Ahead and Storage

The chutney can be refrigerated in an airtight container for up to 2 weeks.

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This Quick and Easy Recipe Turns Cheesy Broccoli Into a Grown-Up Side Dish

Cook your broccoli hot and fast under a broiler to develop some char, then cloak it in a blizzard of finely shaved Manchego. A final touch of toasted hazelnuts and honey tops off the florets.

20170908-broccoli-manchego-hazelnuts-vicky-wasik-19.jpg
Vicky Wasik

My childhood was filled to the brim with sunny American cheese. Kraft made many appearances in my early days of recipe development. I'd zap slices with milk in the microwave for a cheese "soup" that I'd eat while sitting cross-legged on the carpeted floor, dunking cold parathas into it and dodging the dog. At one of my mother's many elaborate dinner parties, I proudly served hors d'oeuvres of banana and Kraft Single sandwiches spiked with frilly toothpicks. (The banana played the role of the bread, an early omen for my culinary innovation.)

Often I kept it simple by melting some Kraft Singles over steamed broccoli florets. The microwave was stacked above the double oven, so, on my tippy-toes, I'd reach blindly into it to feel if the broccoli had attained that perfect crisp-tender texture before removing it for the final gilding. I'd fold each slice of cheese over itself, again and again, until I was left with a perfect stack of neon cubes. I'd place those strategically upon each verdant bloom, one sequin at a time, before the last quick blast of heat to melt them. If only I had discovered surgical tweezers earlier in life.

Even now I have difficulty eating broccoli without cheese. Green florets just don't look right unless they're peeking through a milky veil. But my tastes have developed, and my cheese universe has expanded well beyond the presliced. Here, a lush grating of Manchego is the perfect foil for snappy florets, the salty curls cloaking broccoli's bitter bite. A sharp cheddar or briny feta could also work well.

Close-up of charred broccoli florets on a sheet pan

I also like to give broccoli a more adult treatment by charring it hot and fast under a broiler, so it inches toward the point of bitter blackness. Broccoli can handle all the heat you throw at it. That's because some of the enzymes in broccoli, as well as its other cruciferous cousins, are activated by heat, releasing a pungent sulfurous aroma. This effect is worsened when you cook it low and slow.

Cooking broccoli fast minimizes the development of unwanted flavors, while the high heat produces sweetness through caramelization. This simple cooking method also yields complex textures that are welcome in an often-overlooked vegetable. A trace of the raw vegetal crunch remains at the core, while the florets develop crackly bits and the edges of the stem grow tender.

Daniel has written before about the value of broccoli stems. I prefer to cut my broccoli heads into long spears, running my knife from top to bottom, ensuring that each piece has a good amount of both floret and stem. Just take the time to trim an inch or two off the stalk, and peel it to remove the tough skin.

Toss the broccoli with olive oil and salt, taking care to massage the seasoning into all the nooks and crannies. An even coat of oil speeds up the browning process, so your stems don't dry out before they char.

Crank up your broiler as high as it goes, and preheat a sheet tray below until it's screeching-hot. I live dangerously and spread the spears directly onto the tray, roasting them until the edges begin to char. Then I top the scorched broccoli with black pepper, lemon juice, and chopped hazelnuts.

For the Manchego, I like to use a Microplane to blanket the broccoli with an even blizzard of cheese. The cheese that's in contact with the hot broccoli heats up and weeps into every recess, while the outer layer remains light and fluffy. Toasted hazelnuts and floral honey are the final additions that transform this childhood favorite into a true provocateur.

Preheat the broiler to high and place a rimmed aluminum half-sheet pan 6 inches below it.

Cut broccoli head in half lengthwise, then cut each half into individual florets, each with a long spear of stem attached. In a large mixing bowl, toss broccoli with olive oil and salt, rubbing it well with your hands to coat evenly and thoroughly.

Collage of prepping broccoli for broiling: pouring olive oil into a bowl with broccoli florets, mixing with hands, finished bowl of coated broccoli

Arrange broccoli on preheated sheet tray, then broil until nicely charred in spots, about 5 minutes. (Keep a close eye on it, as different broilers have different power levels.)

Collage of photos of broccoli florets on a sheet pan, before and after broiling

Transfer broiled broccoli to a serving plate and season with black pepper. Sprinkle lemon juice all over, followed by honey and hazelnuts. Using a Microplane grater, grate Manchego cheese generously all over. Serve immediately.

A yellow plate of charred broccoli topped with grated Manchego cheese and chopped hazelnuts

Special Equipment

Rimmed half-sheet tray, Microplane grater