Look into your dry pantry. Of all the unadulterated seasoning agents, I’m guessing you may have salt, sugar, pepper, vinegar and soy sauce?

You’re probably pretty well covered for all the flavours: salty, sweet, bitter, spicy and sour. And I’m guessing most of you will have two or more ingredients to emphasise saltiness, sweetness and spice in your cooking – but acidity and bitterness often get a little neglected.

Yes, these are more complex flavours and they come with overwhelming choices, so it might seem easier to shy away and stick to one vinegar – usually distilled, probably boring.

I absolutely understand the world of acidity can be daunting. But once you embrace it, it is like stepping into a new dimension from which there is no going back.

Sour flavours are often what we yearn for to whet our appetite, especially when we are under the weather. It’s no coincidence that Vitamin C is sour, not sweet.

Often it is acidity that is missing from rounding out a dish, even if it isn’t the dominant flavour. Five-spice braises? Nothing without a little black vinegar. A caprese salad is good but with a drizzle of that aged balsamic it is improved a hundred fold – especially if the tomato is not perfectly ripe.

An arsenal of vinegars can make everything from salad dressing(chardonnay, balsamic, apple cider) to mapo tofu (shaoxing and zhenjiang) sing. But they’re not the only way you can add acidity into your food. Various citruses, ferments and cultured dairy all work – and sometimes leafy herbs.

One of the ultimates is tamarind, an uber-useful legume that’s both sour and sweet.

Freshly opened tamarind. Photograph: LuVo/Getty Images

Originally an African native from along the tropics, it has spread prolifically to become a beloved presence in many traditional cuisines and medicines, from Timbuktu to Venezuela and everywhere in between.

I’m in Bangkok right now, and amid the Covid-19 overload and the natural environmental stresses, my palate has been leaning sour lately. Fortunately, everywhere I turn, I spot fresh podded tamarind. Even the office workers on their smoko breaks gathered at the base of high rises choose to counter balance their cigarettes and smog inhalation with fresh tamarind pods.

They reach into bags, crack open the pods and reveal soft, chewy flesh with a date-like consistency, encasing hard, indigestible black seeds. They make a delicious palate cleanser, even when you haven’t been smoking.

If you don’t have access to fresh tamarind, I guarantee that you can find packaged bricks of tamarind pulp in grocery stores. For cooking, the pulp is easily made into a concentrate by mushing the freshly peeled pod with a little bit of water, or any liquid, then extruding the seeds. This can be added to soups, or used in place of anything in need of added acidity. You can also buy jars of tamarind concentrate – but you’ll have more control over the strength if you make it yourself using packaged pulp.

Tamarind is more commonly used than you might think. It’s even in Worcestershire and HP sauces, as well as being one of the main seasonings in pad thai.

In Thai and Indian cookery, when the tree isn’t fruiting, the tenderest, feathery, bright green tips of the plant are used instead. Sour soups are a particular flavoursome way of using these sour greens. They pep up a seasoned bone stock, making for a refreshing soup served alongside any meal to get the digestive juices flowing.

When you add an acidic element, the timing makes a big difference to the outcome. In fact, I’d say it’s a key skill.

If in doubt, always add it at the end of the cooking process, as sour notes change with heat and oxidise quickly. So use your sour touch at the last minute – right before you eat. Another key thing I’ve been doing is mixing my sour notes in the same dish – there’s a whole spectrum of sour out there, why restrict yourself?

Pad thai with tofu

2 tbsp healthy fat, choose one that can stand a high smoking point. I like to use macadamia oil or rendered pork fat

1 large organic egg, slightly beaten

1 tbsp Bragg Aminos or another good-quality light soy sauce

1 tbsp tamarind puree

2 tbsp coconut nectar or palm sugar

1 tbsp dark soy sauce or kecap manis

100g soft tofu, cut into 2cm x 5cm batons

100g thin dried rice noodles, soaked for 10 minutes then drained

1 tbsp salt pickled turnips, chopped roughly

2 tbsp roasted peanuts, crushed

7 garlic chive stems, cut into 7cm pieces

½ cup bean sprouts, washed

½ lime or lemon

Pour the light soy and dark soy sauces, tamarind puree and palm sugar into bowl and mix until well incorporated, then set the mixture next to the stove.

Heat one tablespoon of oil in wok on high heat, until it starts to smoke a little, at which point add the beaten egg, and cooking it for about one minute, stirring occasionally. After it is cooked, remove it from the wok and set aside.

Into the same wok, without washing, add one tablespoon of oil and again heat it until slightly smoking, then add tofu – stir to cook until it’s evenly golden.

Add the noodles and seasoning mixture, keeping the wok on high heat. Stir and toss everything until the noodles are evenly coated through with the sauce, and the sauce has evaporated.

Add the pickled turnips, peanuts, egg, garlic chives and bean sprouts. Toss and stir through till all the ingredients are well distributed.

Turn off the heat and serve immediately with lime wedge.

