¡Olé! ¡Oleo Saccharum!

Oleo saccharum sounds like it belongs on a dusty apothecary shelf, christened with an antiquated Latin name and sealed up tight. While it’s true that the technique was created centuries ago in the heyday of medicinal potions veering curiously close to the realm of witchcraft, this is one concoction that’s every bit as welcome at the bar today. Calling it “syrup” like any other plain sugar solution does a disservice to the full bouquet of flavor found within. Oleo saccharum tastes like fruit that has given up its very soul into a sweet, glossy elixir.

What is Oleo Saccharum?

Oleo saccharum predates cocktail culture and even refrigeration itself. Made from scraps, it was a thrifty way to prevent waste and preserve citrus flavor long after the fruit itself had vanished from the market.

Literally meaning “oil sugar,” oleo saccharum is osmosis in action. Granulated sugar and citrus peels, not the fruit or juice itself, are always at the foundation. Sometimes that’s all it is, other times, anything from fresh rosemary to sliced jalapenos could be invited to the party. Over the course of one or two days, without any further intervention, the crystalline sweetener liquefies, infused with the pure aromatic essence locked inside the zest. What you’re left with is a syrup that tastes brighter, perfumed rather than sharp, ideal for making balanced yet bold cocktails.

How to Make Oleo Saccharum

Use a vegetable peeler, not a microplane, to slice wide ribbons of zest with as little white pith as possible. Toss them with an equal amount of sugar by weight and roughly muddle to release the essential oils. Then, all you have to do is cover and wait. By the next day, the sugar will be damp. By the following, the peels will be fully submerged in the thick, sticky liquid. Strain out the solids, pressing to reclaim every last drop, and store the syrup in the fridge for the greatest longevity. It should keep for anywhere from 1 – 3 months.

Ingredient Cheat Sheet

When you want to experiment with different additions, consider the following, but bear in mind that citrus (lemon, lime, orange, grapefruit, etc.) should always take up the bulk of the solution. Add complimentary flavors sparingly:

Fresh Herbs

  • Rosemary – piney, savory, unexpectedly elegant with grapefruit or lemon
  • Thyme – subtle and grounding; great for cocktails and glazes
  • Basil – fresh, green, almost floral with orange or lime
  • Mint – bright and cooling, especially nice with lime or lemon

Florals

  • Lavender – extremely potent, a little goes a long way
  • Rose petals – romantic and soft, especially with orange
  • Orange blossom water – citrus squared, but gentler

Spices

  • Vanilla bean – instant dessert energy
  • Cardamom pods – citrus’s best friend, especially with lemon or orange
  • Cinnamon sticks – cozy, round, and familiar
  • Pink peppercorns – floral warmth without aggression
  • Coriander – lemony and nutty
  • Fennel seed – sweet and licoricey, great with orange peel
  • Juniper berries – ideal for pairing with gin cocktails

Wildcard Accents

  • Cacao nibs – bitter chocolate perfume, great with orange
  • Coffee beans – a few crushed beans add depth and roastiness
  • Cucumber peels – light and refreshing
  • Sliced jalapeños – sharp, bright heat

Sugar Swaps

  • Demerara or turbinado sugar – deeper molasses notes
  • Palm sugar – earthy, complex, and faintly smoky; excellent with mezcal

I’ve also heard tales of swapping out the citrus base for things as wild as banana peels and apple peels, but you’re on your own with those experiments.

Where Oleo Saccharum Shines

Oleo saccharum is a bartender’s best friend, perfect for using instead of less potent simple syrup, but that’s far from the end of it. beyond cocktails, consider:

  • Mixing into mocktails
  • Brushing on cakes before frosting
  • Whisk into vinaigrettes
  • Blend into ice cream or sorbet bases
  • Sweeten pudding, mousse, or even oatmeal

Oleo saccharum is an old fashioned antidote to modern waste. If you, too, can look at a pile of discarded peels and see potential instead of trash, oleo saccharum is for you. Extracting every last drop of life from what we usually throw away makes the transformation all the more gratifying. Anyone with a bit of sugar and patience can pull off such a feat. All you need to do is get started.

Hannah (BitterSweet)Leave a comment

He Said, She Said, They Did

Is it a controversial statement that I think she-crab soup is unnecessarily gendered? Yes, it’s true that traditionally, this coastal delicacy employed only female crabs for their rich vermilion roe, giving it the edge over comparatively lean he-crab soup. In the current modern era, however, when we’re talking about a vegan version that uses neither sex, the designation makes no sense. They-Crab Soup is the only fitting moniker for this southern staple, if you ask me.

Originally created for President William Howard Taft who was a known fan of turtle soup, an even more antiquated dish that has mercifully disappeared from menus since, this crabby variation has a lot in common with what we would recognize today as a chowder or bisque. What sets it apart is the use of white rice as a thickening agent, creating a voluptuous texture without the need to hammer in the heavy cream. There’s a hint of tomato for ample umami, the warmth of smoked paprika for depth, and the standard sort of mirepoix to hold down the fort. It’s a fool-proof combination that’s an easy win for any diner, even a president.

Specifically for my recipe renovation, shredded oyster mushrooms replace crabs of any gender with ease. When pulled apart by hand, they mimic the delicate strands of shellfish remarkably well, soaking up the briny broth like they were born for the task. A touch of kelp granules and capers lends an unmistakable oceanic briny kiss to complete the effect. What emerges is a soup that honors the spirit of the original without clinging to its baggage. Built on technique and balance, not biology, it succeeds for the same reason the original did: it’s deeply comforting and undeniably delicious. Call it what you like, but once you taste it, the argument feels beside the point.

Continue reading “He Said, She Said, They Did” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)2 Comments

Taking Back Chinese Take Out

Long before DoorDash or UberEats were household names and the era of no-contact delivery propelled them into ubiquity, Chinese food was already waiting at the door. It arrived folded into paper bags, steaming through waxy cartons, sweet, spicy, and dependable in a way few other cuisines were. Compact menus, speedy service, and dishes designed to travel made it a natural fit for life on the go, decades before anyone thought to put dinner on an app. By the mid-20th century, Chinese takeout had become a fixture of American cities and suburbs alike, offering an affordable, reliable comfort that felt both exotic and familiar.

Wok This Way

That same logic is exactly why Chinese takeout translates so well to home cooking. Many of its most iconic dishes are built on a flexible framework rather than rigid recipes, featuring a protein sliced thin for speed, vegetables that are entirely interchangeable, and a sauce assembled from a short list of pantry staples. Soy sauce, aromatics, and a thickener form the backbone, adjusted slightly to swing towards citrus, umami, spice, or simple indulgence. Understanding this structure makes it possible to recreate takeout favorites at home even faster than you can tap “complete order.”

Soy Friendly

Although distinctly different from the diverse dishes of mainland China, Chinese-American food is no less valid as a regional cuisine. Bringing it back into our own kitchens gives us more control to adapt dishes to taste, use what we have on hand, and end up with equally tasty, if not even better, results.

The following recipes are a few of my favorite takes on classic Chinese takeout. For quick fix cravings, they’ve never steered me wrong.

Continue reading “Taking Back Chinese Take Out” →

Hannah (BitterSweet)7 Comments

Cook This Book: The Essential Einkorn Cookbook

Einkorn is still an enigma to many, lingering on the fringes of the modern food world like a half-remembered story; vaguely familiar and intriguing, but rarely invited into the daily routine. The Essential Einkorn Cookbook by Katie Koyle is exactly the lens needed to bring this grain into sharp focus, pulling back the curtain to reveal einkorn’s remarkable versatility in the contemporary kitchen.

Unlike trend-driven cookbooks that position ancient grains as novelties, likely to be forgotten when the next superfood craze rolls around, Koyle’s approach is refreshingly grounded. She treats einkorn not as a curiosity to be decoded, but as a staple to be understood. As a crucial part of the team at Grand Teton Ancient Grains, Koyle has spent years working intimately with this original wheat in all its permutations, and that fluency shows on every page. She knows how einkorn behaves, where it resists, and how to coax out its best qualities without force or fuss.

Though this is not a vegan or vegetarian cookbook, the guidance it offers transcends dietary lines. The foundational information, such as how einkorn absorbs liquid differently, why it prefers gentler handling, and how its golden hue signals richness rather than density, applies to anyone willing to experiment. Even recipes that include animal products are written with a technical clarity that makes them easy to adapt, making this book a valuable resource for adventurous eaters of all kinds.

The baking chapters are where einkorn truly shines, and Koyle wisely leans into that strength. Her focaccia (page 53) is a standout: plush and tender with a crumb that manages to be both airy and satisfying, its flavor deeper and more complex than versions made with conventional white flour. Einkorn’s natural sweetness comes through subtly, pairing beautifully with olive oil and herbs without collapsing into a heavy, overly dense dough. It’s the kind of bread that disappears quickly, torn by hand and eaten warm, with or without embellishment.

The pumpkin muffins (page 99), crowned with a generous crumb topping, are another highlight. Einkorn’s softness lends itself beautifully to quick breads, producing muffins that are moist without being gummy and richly flavored with the barest measure of sugar for balance. I love that it calls for a full can of pumpkin puree, not some trifling half-measure for the sake of color, and you only need to substitute the two eggs with 1/2 cup of applesauce to reap the fully vegan rewards. The crumb topping, when made with dairy-free butter, adds a certain decadence that straddles the line between nourishment and indulgence, equally suited to breakfast, afternoon coffee, or a late night snack.

Outside of the oven, einkorn proves its adaptability. Chicken and dumplings (page 125) offers a reminder that ancient grains are not confined to rustic loaves and pastries. The dumplings, tender and flavorful, hold together with grace, absorbing the broth while maintaining their structure. It’s a snap to swap in your favorite meatless protein and vegetable stock to make it effortlessly plant-based.

What makes The Essential Einkorn Cookbook especially successful is its humility and pragmatism. Koyle never oversells einkorn, nor does she shy away from its quirks. Instead, she offers practical wisdom, gentle reassurance, and recipes that work as an invitation rather than a challenge. It should also be said that the photography, shot by Koyle herself, is truly stunning, emphasizing texture, color, and process over polish. It’s equally inspirational and aspirational, especially to anyone that’s more of a visual learner.

For anyone curious about baking beyond conventional wheat, or simply looking to deepen their relationship with the ingredients they already love, this book is both a guide and a companion. Einkorn may be ancient, but in Koyle’s experienced hands, it feels entirely alive, ready to earn its place at the table, one loaf, muffin, and dumpling at a time.

This post was made possible as a collaboration with Grand Teton Ancient Grains. My opinions can not be bought and all content is original. This page may contain affiliate links; thank you for supporting my blog!

Hannah (BitterSweet)5 Comments