
I recently saw "Ginger: Rise of the Rhizome" on the Food Network's "Good Eats." I was particularly intrigued by Alton Brown's recipe for candied ginger and its by-product--ginger sugar. After making the Pe(c)king Duck, I had several metric tonnes of unused ginger (why can't they sell it by the slice?) that was only going to go bad. So....inspiration kicked in the door, wrestled me to the stove, and forced me to cook.
I must say that I have less than no experience with candy making. The closest I get to making the stuff is when I leave a chocolate bar on my car's dashboard on a hot summer day and have to re-solidify it. Needless to say, I tread fearfully into this previously undiscovered country. And was rewarded handsomely with some pretty "good eats." (Thank you, Alton Brown.)
The recipe is pretty straight forward and can be found on the Food Network's website. I will paraphrase it here to avoid Itchy and Twitchy (Mr. Brown's crack legal team) from hunting me down.
Basically, you peel and slice your wayward rhizoid into 1/8 inch slices. Mr. Brown suggests using a mandoline, but since I avoid using any kitchen instruments named after the musical ones, I used a knife. Several nasty cuts later, the ginger was cooked for 35 minutes over medium-high heat in water, Mr. Brown suggests 5 cups per pound of ginger, but since I had less, I used 2 cups for 1/4 pound. After 35 minutes, the ginger was tender and slightly darker in color.
The ginger was drained and the resultant liquor reserved. Mr. Brown calls for using 1/4 cup of ginger liquor for the next step, but since most of the water had evaporated from my witches' brew, I used all of it (about 1/8 cup). The ginger was weighed and an equal weight of sugar was added to the ginger and ginger liquor mix. The whole mess was then heated over medium-high heat until it boiled, with regular, if not continuous, stirring. After the liquid boiled, the heat was reduced to medium and continuous stirring commenced. (This is important. Mr. Brown calls for "regular stirring", but many of my culinary fellow-travelers reported burned caramel and glass-like ginger. I only can surmise that this was due to ineffectual (too slow) and inconsistent stirring.) As the water evaporated from the mixture the boiling became more vigorous, which I matched with the vigor of my stirring. (This was not "A Night Before Christmas", and believe me when I say that this mouse was definitely stirring.)
And then...a miracle occurred. Well, actually, the sugar began to recrystallize on the ginger. This process was FAST. Basically, the mixture went from slightly damp, viscous near-caramel to dry ginger covered in crystalline sugar. There was also a lot of extra sugar in the pan. At this point, I quickly removed the pan from the heat and transferred the ginger and sugar to a cooling rack, making sure that none of the ginger pieces touched.
After the ginger cooled, I put the pieces in an airtight container. Per Mr. Brown's suggestion, I also recovered the sugar into its own airtight container. Both are stored at room temperature. By the way, the recovered sugar is as potent as the candied ginger. Use it sparingly, otherwise you will be tasting of ginger for the next month. By the way, if you are not absolutely addicted to ginger (or her bungalow-mate, Mary-Anne), then walk away from this recipe and do not look back lest you be turned into a pillar of Mr. Brown's beloved Kosher salt.