The Spice Of Life

There was a kind of spice rack in the Canadian Tire flyer (hey!) this week, actually more like a carousel, and it showed 2 versions, one with 12 spice capacity, one with 16 spice capacity. 16 isn’t enough. I know. What I needed to work out was whether 2 12 bottle units would cover me. That’s 24 herbs and spices maximum. Colonel Sanders, eat your heart out. Thing is, though, I don’t want to get stuck with spice number 25, and no place to put it. What would I do then.

So I took inventory. 21 spices, or quasi-spices. This is too hard for me. I need backup. So I called my friend, the spiciest person I know. Hey spicy person I said, I need to know whether I’m covered for all the major spice groups. What do you have, asked my astute friend, cutting to the core of the issue.

So here’s the inventory, in no particular order:

· Salt
· Pepper
· Garlic powder
· Onion powder
· Chili powder
· Cumin
· Thyme
· Bay leaves
· Basil
· Oregano
· Parsley
· Cayenne pepper
· Bacon bits
· Cinnamon
· Paprika
· Barbecue spice
· Montreal chicken spice
· French fry salt
· French fry seasoning
· Cajun spice
· Venezuelan Beaver Spice

I bought french-fry salt because I like to put it on my frozen vegetables. I actually cook the vegetables first. So when I put the ff salt on, they’re not actually frozen. But the first time I meant to use it it was gone. Nowhere to be found. I called sis, who’d helped me put the groceries away. (when I say “help” I mean she did it all herself). She didn’t remember the French fry salt. All she could remember was how sad everyone was discovering the following day that no one had put away the drumsticks, which were still in a bag dripping themselves all over the kitchen floor. Maybe we could salvage them she said. No she didn’t. She just ate them then and there.

Seeing as how the French fry salt had gone AWOL, I picked up a small bottle of French fry seasoning, which may or may not be the same thing. Then I found the missing bottle, which had found itself together with a few other odds and ends at the bottom of a pile of empty cartons, all of which were in the process of being discarded, one by one. Hence, redundant seasoning.

What about sweet spices, says my friend. Like nutmeg or ginger. I don’t intend to bake anytime soon. What about sage or rosemary. Who are you, I said, Paul Simon? What do I need rosemary for? Well, if you’re stuffing anything it’s key. Ok, I said, no stuffing. Well, she says, sounds like you have everything you need, humouring me, realizing that if I haven’t got it, I’ll make sure not to need it, so this whole inquiry is pointless. The tail wags the dog.

I didn’t buy it in the end, the spice rack. Sold out. But beyond that, I came to realize that it came with spice bottles full of spices, one of which was rosemary. I don’t want their spices, I have my own. And what do I need rosemary for? Who am I, Paul Simon?