Vanilla Extract

Author Notes

I started making my own vanilla extract several years ago. I didn’t do it to save money or make a better product. I did it because it’s just what you do when someone in your family suddenly has food allergies. Well, it’s not the first thing. But after you’ve taken a three-hour trip to the grocery store and read EVERY label on EVERY product you pick up. And after you’ve put more than half of them back on the shelf after realizing what is really in them. And after you have your own private pity party about all of the things you love to eat that are now as welcome on your kitchen table as drain cleaner stew.

Baking had already become a science experiment in our kitchen. There were no eggs to depend on in all the ways we had come to depend on them. There were no pecans for pie, no walnuts for brownies, no freedom to add a little of this or a little of that just because we felt like it. Okay, so now I have officially descended into my own private pity party. Don’t worry. It won’t last long.

One of the baking staples that I had a terrible time finding ingredient information and allergy warnings on was vanilla extract. It wasn’t for a lack of trying. In my searching online, I discovered that making vanilla extract required exactly two ingredients and a little cupboard space.

I was skeptical. My family looked at me with the same look they used the first time I proudly told them that I had perfected a brioche recipe using tofu instead of eggs. I’m sure you can close your eyes and picture exactly what I’m talking about. Then they smelled my first vanilla extract and tasted it for the first time in frosting that was filled with vanilla bean specks. They were sold. This crazy food experiment was a keeper.

I buy my vanilla bean pods at Micucci’s Grocery in Portland, Maine. The last time I was there, the cashier asked me what I was doing with “all of those vanilla beans”. After I told her that I was using them to make vanilla extract, she looked at me quizzically and asked how. I explained how easy it was and then the man next to me in line leaned over and asked if I could explain again how it was done. He proceeded to buy his own package of vanilla bean pods and happily proclaimed that he was going home to make his own.

I felt like I had done my food good deed for the day. Good food karma would surely follow. It did. I was at Micucci’s after all, and a slab of their Sicilian pizza is as good as food karma gets in my book. —1840 Farm