Turmeric is, to my palate, indelibly associated with Indian cuisine, which is why, when I taste it in non-Indian dishes, it comes as a bit of a surprise.
I remember tasting it once at a cheap Spanish restaurant in Hong Kong, where the cooks substituted it for the much more expensive saffron – only the colours are similar; the flavours are a world apart.
I also tasted it at Cha Ca La Vong, in Hanoi, Vietnam, where the spice was a key part of the restaurant’s signature dish of fish with rice noodles, vegetables, peanuts, fish sauce, chillies and lots of fresh herbs, including dill.
Turmeric is mostly sold as a dried, ground spice, but it starts off as a rhizome that you can buy fresh at shops specialising in Indian and Southeast Asian ingredients.
The fresh rhizome looks rather like ginger root, but when you slice through the papery skin, you will see the flesh is a vivid yellow-orange, instead of ginger’s pale tan. After being dried and ground, the bright colour is usually an indication of its freshness, because it fades with age.
Dried turmeric often makes up a large portion of Indian spice mixtures, where it contributes not just colour but also a distinctive, slightly bitter flavour.