Spices have always made me wonder at their variety.
There are so many and a carefully delineated purpose for each.
A smear of this,
A smattering of that,
A pinch of this,
A fistful of that and
You have a concoction that might not have been itself had it not been for that particular spice or intermingling of spices.
Whether heavily spiced or lightly flavoured, a preparation is the product of the spices that went into it.
Spices sway a dish one way or another.
Similarly, each one of us has a spice, for the place we find ourselves at, in our sometimes spicy, often bland and mostly borderline lives.
The spice may symbolize our lives,
It may be the condiment we would do well to add or subtract from our diet,
It may be the one thing that could salvage us or cost us dearly.
In any case, spices are a treasure abounding with tradition ? age-old mysteries waiting to be unlocked, one chest at a time.
I unlocked one such chest?
Or rather, a chest was unlocked for me by a gypsy who made me feel at home, seeped in the mystery and magic of spices; spells cast and broken at will, as we journeyed with powders and produce fresh from forests in the surrounding area.
Laali is the most enigmatic woman I have known.
I have never met a spirit more wild and a demeanour more poised in one person.
Change had comforted her, held her and steadied her.
Just as initially unsettling spices eventually do for some of us.
She was raised in a tribe that roved from forest to desert to deserted forests and forested deserts, never settling in a single place for too long.
Nevertheless, intently understanding her habitat and everything it had to offer.
And of all of nature?s offerings, spices were her most natural calling.
They called to her, she said, told her things, taught her things, responded to her needs and those of anyone she wished to help or heal.
She became the bridge between spice and sufferer, spice and seeker and spice and chefs that wished to prepare the most cleverly seasoned dishes.
One look at Laali and one was bewitched.
Her eyes hit you like Laal Mirch (Red Chilli Powder) or Kaali Miri (Black Pepper).
Conversely, her eyes also soothed like Cinnamon in tea.
And they pointed you to the richness and reparative qualities of Haldi (Turmeric).
Every spice is a story.
Every spice has a unique quality and properties that differentiate it from another.
Every chef needs a rendezvous with a Laali to know better?
You would have to spot that stare though.
The secret to every spice lies in those eyes.
