Spices… My Secret Vice

>Some women collect shoes, piling their closets with colorful boxes of Manolos. I too have a vice which fills my closets. I collect spices, as passionately as Imelda Marcos.

I can’t resist their sensual promise of spectacular meals. When I pluck them off the shelf at fancy food stores, my pulse quickens at the possibilities in their shiny little jars, especially the unexpected ones. I imagine crumbling that cinnamon stick into an exotic beef stew or adding just a dash of star anise to my next batch of cupcakes. Just enough mystery to make people gasp with surprise or to push my children over the edge and agree to try a new food.

My convenient spice lazy Susans stopped spinning long ago, and they’ll send spices cascading down on the head of anyone who dares to brave their precarious order. How could I resist a sweet spice grinder called Gluttony filled with shards of butterscotch and vanilla? That jar of rosemary salt crystals is huge, but just a little sprinkle on top of sliced fresh tomatoes or grilled lamb chops transports me back to summers in the South of France. 

My spice cabinet is my lair, organized to feed my creativity as I create new dishes. Just the sight alone should be enough to warn off any intruders. This is my personal bazaar, it’s not open to the public. The kids are welcome to play dress up with my heels and dresses, as long as they steer clear of my ancho chili powder, my latest addition that gives my dishes a sweet and smoky gentle heat.

Happy Wordful, Five Minutes Wordless, and Way-back wednesday. I’d love to hear what are your favorite dishes, the ones you stash in your pantries to make dishes your own.