Sorry, Ina Garten, you’re wrong this time: The subtle power of the bay leaf

Back in December of last year, Ina Garten spoke with David Remnick on “The New Yorker Radio Hour,” and in answering a listener’s question, she shared her feelings on bay leaves — which were ambivalent.

She stated that while she uses them when a recipe calls for the leaf (or herb), she always “wonder[s] whether a bay a leaf makes a difference.” And, to be honest, she wasn’t entirely sure if they did or not. While she didn’t give the bay leaf a pointed yay or nay, Remnick summarized the conversation like this: “Ina calls BS on bay leaves.” 

This is a rarity, but it must be said: I think Ina is off-base here.  

Snickering about the flavor (or lack thereof) that bay leaves impart to many dishes is a common go-to joke across the interwebs, from Twitter to Reddit and everything in between. 

Back in 2016, Kelly Conaboy wrote for The Awl: “What does a bay leaf taste like? Nothing. What does a bay leaf smell like? Nothing. What does a bay leaf look like?  A leaf.”

She continued, unleashing a barrage of vitriol at said innocent leaf. And while she spoke with multiple chefs and people in the industry — almost all of whom espoused the positive, flavorful elements of bay leaves — she remained steadfast in her declaration that bay leaves, at large, are a “conspiracy.”

But let’s be frank: If you, too, think bay leaves are a conspiracy, chances are you aren’t cooking with the right ones. 

It all comes down to the big difference between a fresh and a dried bay leave. 

If you’re not a bay leaf enthusiast, you may have an old bottle of dried bay leaves in your pantry. Is it three years old? Is it seven years old? No one knows. You fish a leaf or two out of the jar every six months or so and return it to its home. This is the issue, though.

Don’t disparage the bay leaf if you’re using expired, brittle, flavorless bay leaves; try a fresh one and you’ll immediately recognize its subtle power. 

A comment from a since-deleted user in this (exceptionally titled) Reddit thread “wtf a bay leaf do” is a surprisingly poetic explanation of its hidden powers: “Bay leaves infuse dishes with a woodsy flavor that also has subtle notes of eucalyptus and clove.” 

For those completely unfamiliar with bay leaves, here’s a quick primer. A storied, ancient herb that has been used for generations, bay leaves are traditionally included in a plethora of traditional recipes.

“I do think that it is a potent form of aromatic, very necessary for soups, stews and braises,” Chef Sohui Kim tills Conaboy for The Awl. “Much like using one piece of anchovy in a pasta sauce, undetectable to to eye or even to the taste buds but packs a real je ne sais quoi, umami punch. In long slow cooking forms, I firmly believe in the power of the bay leaf.”

Furthermore, Chef Rich Landau also tells Conaboy: “Sorry, but bulls**t they are not  —  in my opinion. I truly love bay leaves, they are irreplaceable in stocks as they lend a deeper, savory, herbal element that fresh herbs don’t.”

Anthony Bourdain was also a big fan of bay leaves. 

“Count me in the ‘yes’ team. I do use bay leaves,” Bourdain said. “And yes, they are important. Particularly for cream sauces and poaching liquid (court bouillons) for fish. I can understand how some would feel they get lost in more forceful dishes like beef stew — but I think they add something. Color me old school.”

---

Want more great food writing and recipes? Subscribe to Salon Food’s newsletter, The Bite.

---

As Becky Krystal points out in The Washington Post, another issue bay detractors may be facing is that they don’t allow their bay leaves to linger and infuse their dishes for long enough. There are so many latent flavors, nuances and aromas trapped in the bay leaf — let time and heat coax them out slowly. You can also “bloom” the bay leaf in oil, much as you would any other warming spice.

By the way, bay leaves are super appealing in desserts, from cakes to glazes to even ice cream, as well as teas. 

If you’d really like to see just what a bay leaf actually tastes like and contributes to a dish, try steeping it in water. You’ll more immediately detect the nuances and flavors when the only contrasting note is water, as opposed to a Bolognese, a chili or a soup. 

This is all to say: The bay leaf has been unfairly maligned. 

So, the next time you’re food shopping, pick up some fresh bay leaves. Also, if you have a ten-year-old bottle of bay leaves way back in the dark recesses of your pantry, do yourself (and your food) a favor and buy a new bottle!  

Give bay leaves a chance . . . I bet you’ll be pleasantly surprised