Balsamic Glaze (Balsamic Reduction) — The Simple Thing That Makes Everything Taste Like Intention

Another week. Another set of sunrises over Lake Superior. Another set of meals cooked for one and eaten at a table set for two. The two-place setting is the thing the kids have stopped commenting on. They used to remark when they came to visit. They used to gently suggest, in the way grown children gently suggest, that perhaps it was time to set just one. Now they set their own additional plates around mine and they let Paul's plate be Paul's plate. The setting is the love. The setting is the staying. Elsa called from Voyageurs. She had a sighting of a wolf — a single gray adult crossing a frozen bay at dawn, fifty yards from her cabin. She had a sighting of a moose two days later. She is happy in the woods. I am glad someone in this family is happy in the woods. I have always loved Lake Superior, but the deeper woods are not for me. Elsa is for the deeper woods. The match is right. Anna sent photos from Minneapolis — the kids in their school uniforms, David's new bookshelf, the dog (their dog, not mine; their dog is named Cooper, and Cooper is a Bernese mountain dog who weighs more than Anna and who is, by all accounts, the most relaxed dog in the upper Midwest). I printed three of the photos and put them on the fridge. The fridge holds the family that is not currently in the kitchen. I cooked Grilled vegetables this week. Asparagus, leeks, spring onions, brushed with olive oil, grilled over coals. Served with lemon and salt. Thursday: soup. Always soup. Gerald said, "You are the most reliable woman in Duluth." I said, "I am the most reliable woman in this kitchen." He said, "Same thing." I do not think that is the same thing. I think that is a kindness Gerald gives me because Gerald is kind. I take the kindness. I do not argue. I lit a candle in the kitchen for no particular reason. Maybe for Mamma. Maybe for Pappa. Maybe for Lars. Maybe for Paul. Maybe for all of them. The candle is a tall white tapered one, set in a brass holder Mamma had on her dining room table for forty years. I let it burn down. The dripping wax made a small white pool on the brass. I cleaned it off. I lit another one the next night. It is enough. Paul is not here. Mamma is not here. Pappa is not here. Erik is not here. They are all here in the kitchen, in the smell, in the taste, in the wooden spoon and the bread pans and the marble slab. The dead are not where the body went. The dead are in the kitchen. I have learned, slowly, that there is a kind of competence that comes only with age. Not wisdom, exactly — wisdom is a word too grand for what I mean. Competence. The competence of having watched many things go wrong and many things go right and having developed an internal database of which is which. The competence is, perhaps, the only thing that improves with age in a body that is otherwise declining. I will take the trade. It is enough.

The asparagus and leeks came off the grill already carrying something — the char, the smoke, the olive oil going golden at the edges. But I wanted one more thing. Not more flavor exactly, more finish. More the sense that the meal had been considered. I’ve kept a bottle of good balsamic in the back of the pantry for years, and this was the week I finally reduced it down into something slow and syrupy and worth the small attention it asks for. Paul would have used it on everything. That feels like reason enough.

Balsamic Glaze (Balsamic Reduction)

Prep Time: 2 minutes | Cook Time: 15–20 minutes | Total Time: 20 minutes | Servings: 8 (about 1/2 cup)

Ingredients

• 1 cup balsamic vinegar
• 2 tablespoons honey (optional, for added sweetness)

Instructions

1. Combine. Pour the balsamic vinegar (and honey, if using) into a small saucepan. Stir briefly to combine.
2. Simmer. Bring to a gentle boil over medium heat, then reduce heat to medium-low. Let the mixture simmer uncovered, stirring occasionally, for 15–20 minutes until it has reduced by about half and coats the back of a spoon.
3. Check consistency. Keep in mind the glaze will thicken further as it cools. Remove from heat when it is slightly thinner than you want the final result to be.
4. Cool and store. Let cool for 10 minutes before drizzling. Transfer to a small jar or squeeze bottle. Store at room temperature for up to 2 weeks.
5. Serve. Drizzle over grilled asparagus, leeks, spring onions, roasted vegetables, salads, or fresh bread. A little goes a long way.

Nutrition (per serving)

Calories: 35 | Protein: 0g | Fat: 0g | Carbs: 8g | Fiber: 0g | Sodium: 10mg