Mysterious mace. If you've cooked with it, you know that it is one of the flavors of fall, often used with cinnamon, cloves and allspice in spice cake and squash pies. But have you ever noticed that nutmeg and mace are rarely used together? Their flavors are quite similar, so just one or the other is normally used. In truth, mace and nutmeg are so much alike because they are both parts of the fruit of the Myristica frangrans, or nutmeg tree.

Confusion created by two spices from a single fruit is apparently longstanding: spice lore tells the tale of an English merchant who visited a Ceylon nutmeg plantation and, after learning that mace was worth more than nutmeg, declared, "We must raise less nutmegs and more mace."

Some spice historians speculate that mace may not have been considered a spice until long after nutmeg became popular, since it is not included in early European descriptions of spice use from 3rd and 4th centuries. However, cooking with nutmeg in India extends to ancient times.

Arab traders introduced nutmeg to the West some time in the 6th century. It eventually became as valuable as gold and was among the spices that prompted the European exploration of the world.

In the Middle Ages, Europeans who could afford spices especially used nutmeg to flavor pudding and beverages, including spiced wine. A Chaucer poem recommends keeping nutmegs on hand to put in ale. Nutmeg flavoring in beverages continues today with Coca Cola, which reportedly includes it in its secret recipe.

This could have something to do with the flavoring qualities of nutmeg and mace, which are spicier than most people imagine. Despite their use in mild dishes like custard and stewed fruit, nutmeg and mace actually include some of the same oils that flavor pepper and cloves.

Nutmeg and mace also contain hallucinogens and can be fatally toxic if used in a large quantity, for example, eating an entire nutmeg. However, the small quantities normally used in cooking are considered safe. The best nutmeg advice is from the "Joy of Cooking," which suggests using it "sparingly but often."

Cooks have vacillated through the years over the desirability of mace versus nutmeg. At times, people seem to have wanted what was harder to come by, and priced mace much higher than nutmeg due to the unavailability of mace. A 1909 book of spices declared that mace "has a peculiarity of its own which most people prefer."

Today, nutmeg's flavor is considered warm and well matched to food, and appetizing. Mace is described, somewhat contradictorily, as more subtle and spicier, a combination of cinnamon and pepper. Some books describe mace as the stronger flavor and some say nutmeg. I find flavor is closely related to freshness, and fresh mace is stronger than nutmeg sold already ground. For most purposes, mace and nutmeg are interchangeable. Try both and see which you prefer.

For best nutmeg flavor, purchase whole nutmegs at the Co-op, where a dollar buys three or four nutmegs, and grate them on the smallest grater holes just before cooking. One whole nutmeg yields two to three teaspoons of grated spice. Use it quickly, as nutmeg oil will soon evaporate, taking the best flavor with it. Don't look for whole nutmegs anywhere else–most Moscow grocery stores don't sell them.

The Co-op's mace seems to be quite a bit fresher than mace I've bought from traditional grocery stores. Though its price is slightly higher, it is worth it. You can buy three to four tablespoons of mace for about 60 cents.

The following recipe takes some extra effort, but the result is an exotic, rich vegetable experience with subtle spicing. It is from the cookbook "Almost Vegetarian" by Diana Shaw and is best made a day ahead.

Carrot and Apricot Terrine

8 carrots, peeled and sliced in rounds about ½ inch thick
8 dried apricots, preferably organic
2 bay leaves
½ cup fresh orange juice, plus extra if necessary
3 large eggs, lightly beaten
1 cup grated imported Parmesan cheese
1 cup part-skim ricotta cheese
1 cup fine dried breadcrumbs
a pinch powdered ginger
1/4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg or ground mace

Cook carrots covered with water in a medium saucepan until very soft, about 40 minutes. Drain thoroughly and cool.

Meanwhile, place apricots and bay leaves in a separate saucepan and add the ½ cup orange juice. Cover and cook on low heat until the apricots are mushy, about 30 minutes. Check often, adding more orange juice if necessary. Cool, and discard the bay leaves.

Heat oven to 425 degrees. In a food processor or blender, combine eggs, Parmesan cheese, ricotta cheese, and breadcrumbs. Transfer to a large mixing bowl.

Puree carrots and apricots together and stir into the cheese mixture. Add the ginger and nutmeg and mix well.

Lightly butter a loaf pan measuring 6 x 4 inches. Pour the carrot mixture inside and cover with aluminum foil. Place pan inside a larger, deeper baking dish and pour water into the larger dish so it comes halfway up the side of the loaf pan.

Bake 11/2 hours, checking often and adding more water as it evaporates. The terrine is done when a knife inserted into the center comes out clean. Cool completely at room temperature before refrigerating 6 hours or overnight.

To serve, run a butter knife around the rim and gently turn it over onto a platter. Serves six to eight.