Messing Around with Sumac

My father would spin in his grave if he knew I was messing around with Sumac.

Years ago, my parents had a lovely large house in the exceptionally beautiful Manhattan suburb of Bronxville. My brother, sister and I grew up in that house and played in a big back yard that was carefully manicured by my father with precious little help from his reluctant kids who did not appreciate the benefits of a magazine-perfect landscape. Every inch of that acre was carefully groomed, except for what grew behind the rock wall that defined the northern edge of the yard. It was in that no-go zone where my father battled the intractable bushes of Poison Sumac. Every summer, undaunted, he would don something like a haz mat suit and flail away at those shrubs to keep them under control, then carefully bundle the cut branches in burlap so that when the trash men made their rounds, they wouldn’t have to touch the venomous leaves. And every day he would admonish us kids to “Stay out of the sumac!”

Poison Sumac (Rhus toxicodendron vernix) is closely related to Poison Ivy and Poison Oak, but is far more toxic. Touching any part of the plant, including its white berries, can cause a painful dermatitis and getting it in your mouth or nose can be fatal.

So imagine my surprise last week when I joined my friends Judy and Sandy for lunch at Jonathan’s in Ventura and I was served salmon dusted with a paprika-colored spice that had a wonderful sour, lemony taste, which, when I asked, turned out to be ground sumac!

Back home, I immediately got online to find out how that lethal plant growing in my childhood backyard could be edible. Rhus coriaria, the culinary sumac, is related to the poisonous variety of sumac (Rhus toxicodendron vernix) but is completely harmless. Its red berries are dried and crushed to produce a tangy powder that has been used in food and drinks in the Middle East for centuries; in fact, the word “sumac” comes from the ancient Aramaic language. Fans of Greek, Turkish, Persian, Lebanese or North African food use the sumac spice in vegetables, eggs, chicken, fish, grilled meats, rice, sauces, or anything that needs the kick of lemon without the liquid of the juice. It’s better, I think, than paprika for dusting on top of hummus.

Needless to say, I ordered 4 ounces of imported ground sumac from My Spice Sage in New York, hoping to revolutionize my cooking. First, I tried grilling salmon dusted with ground sumac, just as I had experienced in the Ventura restaurant. Alas, I screwed up in two ways: first, I was too timid and didn’t use enough sumac, and second, I undercooked the salmon. But I was able to make fish cakes the next day with the leftover salmon and I added sumac to the recipe, which saved the day.

I’m a convert now and I wish my dad were around so I could share my personal discovery with him. I’d make him a dinner of seared lamb rubbed with sumac and other spices, potato salad dusted with sumac, fresh green beans dressed with lemon and sumac, and a dessert of blueberries with yogurt dusted with ground sumac. We’d dive in to every dish and have a good laugh about how delicious it is to mess around with sumac – the right kind.