The word vinegar comes from the French “vin aigre,” sour wine. Imagine the first Roman who found his wine turning sour. Did he immediately say to himself, “This might taste great on a bowl of romaine!”?

            Vinegar is produced when naturally occurring aceto-bacteria convert alcohol into acetic acid. The character of a national cuisine is often defined by the kind of vinegar it prefers, which is largely dependent upon its most abundant source of alcohol.

            The grape producing countries of Italy, France, and Spain favour wine vinegars. In Britain, fermented barley is the source of malt vinegar, a must for fish and chips. Here in North America, where apples are abundant, cider vinegar has always been the most popular. In China and Japan, vinegar is made from rice wine.  

            But the production of vinegar is far more than just a random act of spoilage. The secret of good vinegar production is to control this natural fermentation. The vinegar “mother” or bacterial culture that is used is passed along from one batch to the next, often for generations, similar I suppose to a sour dough culture or yogurt. By proper growth controls and aging, the raw, sharp bite of acetic acid can mature into a rich, sweetly-tart and invaluable cooking staple. A world without vinegar would be a far, far blander place. No ketchup, mustard, dill pickles or any number of other sauces, chutneys, and dressings.

            The vinegar I use most frequently is balsamic. There can be nothing more flavourful than a platter of warmed goat cheese topped with sun-dried tomatoes and fresh basil, swimming in balsamic vinegar, slathered on fresh bread. I use it as a marinade for chicken, tofu, or grilled vegetables and in a rub for roasts. Whenever I think something needs a spark of flavour, such as a soup and I’m just not sure what it needs, I add a splash of balsamic. And of course I use it for salad dressings.

            Nowhere is the production of vinegar more controlled than in the Region of Modena, Italy, where traditional balsamic vinegar is produced. The sugary Trebbiano grape undergoes an initial yeast fermentation to produce alcohol, and then the vinegar mother is added. This vinegar is aged to perfection for a minimum of 12 years in casks of varying woods such as juniper, ash, cherry, and oak. These casks are often ancient and the flavouring they impart to the vinegar builds the complex aroma that good balsamic is famous for. The casks must be stored in spaces where the effect of seasonal weather changes causes the bacterial culture to “sleep” in the winter months and be active in summer. With each year, the vinegar becomes more concentrated, more syrupy and richer in colour and flavour, until the perfumy elixir is finally fit to emerge.

            At this point, the producer can still not attach the “Aceto Balsamico Tradizionale di Modena” label. It must now pass a board of tasters. It is judged on flavour, which must be the correct blend of sweet and sharp; its colour, which must be the correct dark brown; and texture, which should be properly syrupy. The name balsamic, after all, comes from “balsam,” the sap of trees, which describes its viscosity and colour, fortunately not its flavour.

            The labour and time involved to make a certified balsamic vinegar means that very little is released each year. This accounts for the fact that a cute 75ml bottle is going to set you back at least $100.00 dollars. But don’t despair; there are good quality substitutes available at supermarket prices.

            Many producers of balsamic vinegar choose not to follow the rigorous rules of certification, but that is not to say their product is inferior. They may not age the full 12 years, or follow the elaborate wood barrel aging process to the letter. Perhaps they just don’t get along with the judges? Something we are all too aware of in these past few weeks! And although they use the Trebbiano grape variety, they may not be in the Modena region, another requirement for certification. There are balsamics produced in California which are comparable in flavour to tradizionale balsamic, but generally in the range of $20.00 to $50.00 for 250ml.

            Most balsamic we will find in the supermarket will be labelled, “Aceto Balsamico di Modena,” which really means nothing other than that it is not tradizionale. They can be very high quality, which will usually be reflected in the price, or cheap knock-offs. Don’t be fooled by a pretty label and finely-turned bottle. Read the label. You will often find that they are merely wine vinegars with added colour and flavouring agents. As a rule, I find that if I am paying anything less than $10.00 for 250ml, the vinegar is not anything I would dip my strawberries in, although it may be fine for marinades or deglazing pans. Ultimately, the best advice is to run your own taste test.

            And if I had the chance, what would I do with a pricey little bottle of the 25 year old stuff? Probably drink it. Although you won’t likely find it on any aperitif list here in Canada, in Europe, a fine balsamic is sipped with dessert as you would a fine port.  Now that’s class, eh?