My spice cabinet is judging me.

by Shari on February 5, 2014

“I’ll take ‘Random Unmarked Bags’ for $500, Alex.”

I found this in my spice cabinet yesterday.

I thought it was bread crumbs. I needed bread crumbs and so I decided that these were bread crumbs. I went so far as to slice the raw chicken and dip it in egg, as if this bold act of poultry prep could will this to be bread crumbs.

Not bread crumbs.

“So what is it?”, you ask.

Ah.

Yes.

Quite.

Upon opening, sniffing, and ruling out anything remotely bread-related, I would have to say “I have no idea”.

It appears to be some sort of spice mixture. Yes, most definitely an elaborate spice mixture, with many, many different types of spices, mixed together for a purpose.

What that purpose is, I couldn’t say.

All I can say is that at some point Past Me took the time to painstakingly mix together approximately 74 different spices and was so certain that Future Me would remember why, that Past Me didn’t bother labeling it. And now Present Me is mystified.

Dry rub? Meatloaf blend? Cajun? Filipino seasoning lesson from my mother-in-law? Herbes de Provence? Science project? Incense? Exfoliant? Laxative tea? Something to be rolled in papers and smoked?

Oh, how you mock me, 74-spices bag with your blank white space that screams “Contents:__________”!

You sit on my countertop, sit in judgment, self-righteously and silently speaking to me of the myriad of unmarked, frost-defaced, plastic-wrapped lumps of God-knows-what in my freezer and Voldemortian They That Should Not Be Opened tupperware containers of unidentifiable foodstuffs in my refrigerator.

You whisper in my brain-ear, “Why do you always think you’ll remember things when history has shown time and time again that you remember no things?” And when I protest, “But I do remember things, it’s just the things that I remember are not why I made a 74-spice blend or how to fold a fitted sheet, it’s other things like all eight verses of “Senor Don Gato” from 3rd grade music class”, you roll your spicy eyes and remind me that knowing all eight verses of “Senor Don Gato” has no purpose in adult life, while knowing how to sniff an unidentified plastic baggie and immediately being able to adjust dinner plans from “Breaded Chicken” to “74-Spice Chicken” would be a much more marketable skill.

And so, as I grill bland poultry and tearfully hum to myself, “Oh, Senor Don Gato was a cat, on a high red roof Don Gato sat...”, you shall return to your perch in my spice cabinet, because I’m sure that one day, one of my lady friends who have not taken up precious real estate in their heads with Hispanic cat ditties will be able to sniff you and shout “Tandoori!” or “Garam Masala”! And on that day I shall grab a Sharpie and name you eternally, and my nightmare will be over.

In the meantime, I need to ask my husband if we’ve ever purchased a side of hog, because that one lump in the freezer looks a lot like a snout.

 

 

 

 

{ 18 comments… read them below or add one }

Darrin February 6, 2014 at 2:24 pm

Well….did you ask your 10 in. tall sidekick to identify the mixture using his keen sniffer?

I am betting he would know…but it might take the rest of the day to translate his answer!

Good luck

Reply

Shari February 6, 2014 at 2:38 pm

My sidekick does not need to be anywhere near anything that might increase his gas output. Just sayin’.

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Darrin February 6, 2014 at 2:42 pm

clue #1. special blend increases Gas out put.

any other hints….we are cooking with….oh sorry bad joke!

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Kristin February 6, 2014 at 3:03 pm

We just moved and I found a handful of the same sort of mystery bags. LOL.

It makes me wonder about myself sometimes. Not judging you, of course. ;)

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Shari February 6, 2014 at 3:15 pm

Annnnnddddd… this is one of the reasons I love you, Kristin.

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Wendi February 6, 2014 at 4:18 pm

You’re so fancy with your spices. All I have in my pantry is a salt packet from Wendy’s.

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Shari February 6, 2014 at 7:35 pm

What else do you need, really?

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alexandra February 6, 2014 at 5:47 pm

You are wonderful.

And I’m comfortable around people with mystery kitchen contents.

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Shari February 7, 2014 at 12:23 am

Well, then you’d be very very very comfortable around my kitchen, Alexandra.

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alexandra February 6, 2014 at 5:48 pm

Also: my gift to you today. Read it and wet your pants. http://eatocracy.cnn.com/2012/12/11/national-update-your-parents-spice-rack-month/

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Jenn @ Something Clever 2.0 February 8, 2014 at 9:36 pm

If you’d like to mail me a sample, I’d be happy to smell it for you. I have an exceptional nose…

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dusty earth mother February 10, 2014 at 3:15 pm

Address, please.

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My Inner Chick February 10, 2014 at 11:54 pm

“”"one of my lady friends who have not taken up precious real estate in their heads with Hispanic cat ditties will be able to sniff you and shout “Tandoori!”"”"

Brilliant. LOVED this!!!

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dusty earth mother February 18, 2014 at 2:23 am

Thank you muchly, Chick! :-)

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Ann February 14, 2014 at 1:10 pm

Don Gato, I know the likes of you all too well. (Sings Everybody Loves Saturday Night in 5 languages)

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Karen February 20, 2014 at 2:14 am

I laughed so hard at this one about the unlabeled spices that I was crying, Shari. My husband heard me and probably thought I was going crazy. I think it especially tickled my funny bone because there are so many things I lose track of unless I write them down. That’s part of why I try to write down for myself and the grandparents some of the zany or touching things the kids say and do on a given day–if I don’t write about it then I can’t even remember it the next day and it’ll be gone forever. I want to hold on to these precious moments as best I can.

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dusty earth mother February 21, 2014 at 6:55 am

Oh, Karen… simpatico. I feel your forgetting pain. :-) xxoo

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