Why Everyone Should be Making Vinegar at Home

Why Everyone Should be Making Vinegar at Home

Amrita Amesur writes about the wide range of indigenous varieties of natural vinegars in cuisines across the country.

What is vinegar really? From Old French, vyn egre is simply sour wine. Wine is simply fermented sugar. And this sour wine has been used for thousands of years, to pickle and preserve seasonal food from spoilage, and as an acidic and sour element in cooking, across cultures. As a fermented liquid, it also imparts healthy probiotics to the digestive system. Vinegar has powerful sterilising and anti-bacterial effects and stands alongside the other ancient stalwarts of preservation — oil, salt and sugar. It also stands guard in other ways: The Japanese douse rice wine vinegar on sushi, not just for its delicate sourness, but more importantly, to sterilise raw fish, making it safe to eat.

Historically, vinegar was made with anything that contained natural sugar — grapes, sugarcane, jamun, or honey. But in time, it evolved to include other foods like fruit and grain, and sugar was added to aid the process. It was brewed with ingredients found in abundance in each specific region; so grapes in the vast wine countries of Europe, short-grained rice in East Asia, coconut and palm in South East Asia,  and apples in the New England region of North America, to name a few.

In India, regional cuisines include a terribly under-acknowledged variety of local vinegars. These vinegars have played the crucial role of souring agents across cuisines, balancing pungency and spice, acting as a pickling medium, and lending a distinct regional and cultural flavour profile to each cuisine. Kachampuli vinegar made with what is known as the Malabar Tamarind, breathes life into the Coorg Pandi Curry. The Konkan belt, with its palm and coconut trees, brew toddy and coconut vinegars, to serve as unique souring agents for Xacuti and Vindaloo. The ancient Persian-Zoroastrian Parsis and Iranis, accustomed to the tartness of pomegranate molasses, adapted and created their own molasses here in India from sugarcane juice, aged year-long in wooden barrels, the much sought-after sarko by E.F. Kolah & Sons in Navsari, Gujarat. No purist would ever consider a substitute for sarko; a dish would sooner be shelved than prepared with the use of any other souring agent. And then there is the inseparable butter chicken or paneer makhani paired tightly with a pre-dining dose of sirke waale pyaaz. And happily, these regional vinegars are being skilfully adapted in some of the finest modern Indian restaurants in India, to add zing to cocktails, or cure fresh fish for ceviche.

Sparkling vinegar at 3 weeks Image credit: Amrita Amesur

Sparkling vinegar at 3 weeks
Image credit: Amrita Amesur

Vinegar with nails Image credit: Amrita Amesur

Vinegar with nails
Image credit: Amrita Amesur

Unfortunately, despite our rich history of tart-dominant cuisines, good vinegar is not easily found. The most commonly found vinegars are a concoction of chemicals, acids and preservatives injected into sterile water in a factory. This synthetic variety which goes by the name of white vinegar monopolises the vinegar market in India; so much so that many professional chefs unblinkingly endorse its usage in professional kitchens and on television shows. But let us say it is lack of awareness on the subject, and unavailability of good quality natural vinegar at affordable prices, that is to blame.

But white vinegar’s proliferation is disheartening. It forms up to a third of store-bought ginger-garlic pastes, tomato ketchup, mustard, and all manner of condiments, added in as a preservative. In truth, white vinegar, whilst performing the function of crass acidity and preservation, bears no resemblance to real vinegar in terms of flavour or health-benefits. Its only real virtue is its high acidity reinforcing its role as a household cleaning agent and all-purpose disinfectant.

As more Indians travel abroad, and familiarise themselves with foreign ingredients, we make space in our kitchens for products like the highly prized, dark, balsamic vinegar from Modena, Italy, aged between twelve to a few hundred years; the delicate rice wine vinegar from Japan. Delicious sherry vinegar from Spain; beautiful moscatel, or Pedro Ximénez grapes grown along the Jerez region in Andalusia. Red and white wine vinegar from across Europe have become pantry staples to dress our salads. But there’s been no word on any vinegars of Indian origin. And breaking all barriers, India is completely besotted with apple cider vinegar, with whole waves of incessant discussion on its properties to aiding weight loss and curbing hunger. Now, if only the humble sugarcane of our local farmers received that sort of press. 

So imagine with me, dear reader, if we were to incorporate the use of a most inexpensive and rampantly available juice, from an Indian crop. Yes, I mean the sugarcane. As the original detox juice, the ideal diuretic to cleanse your system and strengthen your liver, aid digestion, cool your body in summer months and highly recommended for diabetics, contrary to popular belief, given its low glycemic index. India is one of the highest producers of sugarcane in the world, and it costs virtually nothing to access its benefits in the homeland — so obviously it is taken for granted and summarily ignored.

Ganne ka sirka is traditionally made in the blazing summers of Punjab, at home, in large terracotta clay pots, with sugarcane freshly cut from the fields. Several litres are brewed, to sustain the family until the next summer. The heat of summer is the perfect clime to facilitate fermentation, and create a warm environment for bacteria. And this most elegant vinegar is significantly superior because it needs nothing to ignite or complete the fermentation process, because of natural sugars already present. If one had to go about making apple cider vinegar, for instance, or even kombucha, the yeast in question would need to be fed several cups of sugar to keep the culture alive and stimulate the ferment, because neither apples nor tea have enough sugars to feed the bacteria.

But sugarcane juice has natural sugar unto itself. Not to mention that since freshly squeezed ganne-ka-ras contains natural yeast flora, it needs no yeast or mother of vinegar to start fermenting. If that weren’t enough, the Punjabis came up with a single, genius hack. When making sirka at home, they drop a couple of iron nails into the bottle with the sugarcane juice. Iron helps inn producing yeast inside the jar, which helps convert the sucrose in sugarcane juice to alcohol, which then converts to acetic acid. While fermentation will still take place without it, it is a means to expedite the process. Some families simply add coarse salt to the juice, to accelerate the ferment instead.

With all this theory in hand, I was ready to begin my experiment with making vinegar at home. I procured a couple of tall glasses of sugarcane juice from a street-side vendor, keeping a close eye to ensure he added no ice, lemon or anything else to the juice. I poured it into a bottle, leaving a little room on top to allow for the bacteria to bubble up in due course, without overflowing. I remembered the iron nails, and dropped those in too. Then relegated the bottle to a corner of the cabinet for a month.

At three weeks, I decided to have a peep through. It was completely carbonated like a delicate sparkling wine, with the aroma of craft beer. This is the first stage — sugarcane wine. I would urge you here to sneak in a taste of your creation — it’s not every day that you make a sparkling wine at home! However, reign in those expectations, knowing that you are accustomed to drinking wine, beer and even kombucha, chilled from the fridge. What you taste here is close to the stage when fermented sugarcane juice is distilled to produce rum.

But on to the next step in the process — acetification. You’ll notice in the coming weeks that those glorious bubbles will begin to disappear and the vivid light green colour will turn a darker bottle green. This is the second stage of the ferment: the aceto-bacteria has started working its magic; the souring of the wine into vinegar. The cloudy blackness you see is simply the good probiotics working its way through the wine. It is recommended during this second leg of fermentation to open up the bottle every now and then, to release the gas. They do say that the bacteria works faster when watched! But like any other process that involves ageing, this a matter of faith: if you believe, and provide the right environment, it will come together. 

At the end of two months, the blackness will have engulfed the juice entirely. Taste and smell test at this stage again: it is going to be entirely sour, but a lot more delicate than the acerbic taste of manufactured vinegar. Your homemade, 100% natural vinegar is ready to use! (At this stage, you could consider splitting half of the vinegar and setting it aside in a wide-mouthed bottle for another month — here, a cloudy bacteria ought to coagulate, solidifying into an amorphous jelly-fish like mass: The Holy Mother of Vinegar. This MOV will open up a world of fermentation possibilities for you, available to be added into any kind of seasonal fruit juice with enough sugar, to create your own home-fermented concoctions in a matter of days, instead of months!)

Can you buy sugarcane vinegar instead? Other than the molasses like sarko, there are few brands selling sugarcane vinegar, many of which unfortunately, contain all manner of chemicals, sugar and food colouring. In my opinion, it is simply easier to find a trusted juice-waala in your neighbourhood than clean packaged vinegar.

Historically, there was a holistic, ecological, cultural and culinary background surrounding the use of this remarkable soured wine. Its benefits are evident in regional cuisines, or in the preservation of fresh fruit, vegetables, fish and meats, and the enrichment of life through these elements.

Recipe for Sugarcane Sirka | Ganne ka Sirka

Ingredients
1 litre freshly squeezed sugarcane juice (strained for any impurities or pulp, with no additives such as ice or lime juice or any kind of preservatives, definitely not pre-bottled)

1 wide-mouthed jar which can contain at least 1.5 litres (food grade plastic or a glass jar. Alternatively, you could just use two, one litre bottles and split the juice between the two)

A coffee filter, or a piece of cloth (preferably muslin), and a rubber band to secure it on the jar

2 fresh iron nails for each bottle

½ tbsp coarse salt or pink salt or black salt that is not iodised (optional)

A cozy corner to age

Method
Mix in the coarse salt into the sugarcane juice pour it into the jar, leaving enough space for the bacteria to bubble, ferment and not overflow.

Drop the iron nails into the bottle.

Cover the mouth of the bottle with either a coffee filter or a piece of cloth and secure with a rubber band or a string of cloth. You could even place the actual lid or cork of the bottle, as I did, and then unscrew the lid every now and then to release the gas build-up.

Leave the bottle out in the sun during the day for 30 days, taking it into a darker corner at sundown. You could alternatively leave it in a dark corner the entire time, which might take closer to 60 days to ferment.

The vinegar is ready when it is entirely dark, almost black in colour. Taste and confirm that it is the right sourness for you, or continue to age it further.

Strain the vinegar and store in a glass bottle. It should stay good for a year.

Use the sirka to pickle literally anything – onions, radish, carrots, beetroot, garlic, ginger, raw mangoes, prawns — the sirka is your oyster. Season with salt and sugar, spike it with sharp chillies, spice it up with cinnamon sticks, cloves and bay leaves. You can spike cocktails with it, or simply combine it with good honey, rock salt, a squeeze of fresh lime and dilute with cool water or club soda for a mid-morning sherbet.

Amrita Amesur is a corporate lawyer by profession and is deeply passionate about food. You can follow her adventures on Instagram.

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