My spice cabinet is a mess. But it’s my mess and I like it that way. There was a time – long ago when I tried to get organized. I bought all those matching bottles, readable labels and the ‘just-right’ racks to put the spices in alphabetical order – but it never worked out. It’s just not me. So I’ve a mishmash of bags tied with torn twist ties, odd shaped bottles, metal canisters and unlabeled jars. The only reason that I can find the garlic salt is because it’s in the tallest jar with a red cap – and the wasbai because of its black label. If everything was all the same – I wouldn’t be able to find a damn thing.

I collect spices from my travels like they’re postcards or snowdomes. I love the exotic labels and illustrations from far away places. One of my recent additions was a simple gift – they’re these little hand-folded white paper packets that a friend made for me. Each one – cumin seed, cardamom and clove — are held together with paper clips. He decorated them in ballpoint pen and wrote ‘Memories from Zanzibar’ and drew swirls around his initials. One of them just fell apart and so now Ahmed’s black peppercorns roll around in the bottom of my spice drawer every time I open it. I’ll never clean them out — but I bet my husband will try.

The advice columns in the food magazines and the fancy chefs on television will try to make you feel bad about your old spices. And tell you to throw them away. It’s true that they do go stale and loose their flavor – but for me there are plenty of memories and pleasure in each quirky bottle and funky label — it’s not just about pungency. So many of my spices remind me of food I’ve tasted, the open-air markets I bought them in, old friends, the gifts they were, and the meals I dreamed of making with them. I’m not about to get rid of them. But there are some – like the generic ones I buy from the bulk bins in the grocery store — that I’ve no strong emotional attachment to – and when they lose their umpfh I use them up in creative ways. I’ve found out that garam marsala and old curries make pumpkin or sweet potato based cookies, breads and pies, taste a lot more interesting. And the yellow turmeric color fits right in. Lately I’ve been using up last of winter’s chili powder by adding it to anything chocolate. Even though this type of chili is a mix of ancho, red pepper, cumin, garlic and oregano it’s amazing what it does in basic brownies or dark chocolate cake – by creating another dimension of taste that no one can quite figure out — especially when I add a shake or two of cinnamon to even it all out.

When I brine a chicken or turkey – which is always a good thing to do because it makes the meat juicer when you cook it – I start the concoction by dissolving a salt and sugar solution over high heat and then I’ll add some juniper berries from Yugoslavia I bought without a clue and mahleb from Syria – they’re the pits from sour cheeries. And I’ll throw in some seaweed and a pinch (just a pinch) of asafetida powder. It’s known to be an anti-flatulent – but it’s got this fetid old-shoe onion stink to it. It’s one of my all time favorites. It comes in a squat opaque-white plastic cylinder made by Laljee Godhoo & Company in Mumbai, India. I picked it up on a trip to Kenya — when I was younger and single. I keep it hidden on the top shelf of my china cabinet because when my husband does decide to clean out my spices – he’ll never find it.