You know how things creep up on you sometimes?
For me, it’s not figurative “things” this time. It’s quite literal, and it’s taking over my kitchen.
Spices. Spices have crept up on me.
It happened innocently enough. When I moved into my condo I bought an apartment’s worth of furniture off my grandma’s friend and with it came a fully-stocked spice rack.
Then I started cooking and stuff, you know, for the blog. And sometimes my recipes called for weird spices I didn’t have so I’d go get them.
And then of course I got married and with that came more spices, mostly barbecue and meat-related.
And most recently while we were clearing out my grandma’s condo there were a myriad of spices that would have gone to waste if I didn’t rescue them.
For months now I’ve been tripping over spices. And to tell you the truth I don’t even know which spices I have. If someone says “Do you have fish sauce?” I shrug and dig around the stash half-heartedly.
So I decided to do a spice inventory. It was a good thing to do, but my goodness did it take forever.
And by the end of it all I couldn’t even find my inventory anymore.
But it didn’t matter. The worst was over. I combined the triplicates, I re-labelled the unclear bottles, and I even pulled out the old mystery spices I’m afraid to use.
Although I think there’s still some work to do it now all fits into one cupboard.
And I know generally what I have.
You know, more or less.