The Perfect Pantry®

Chili paste with garlic (Recipe: spicy Asian grilled chicken and pasta salad)

My love affair with chili paste with garlic continues, going on thirty years now, with no loss of affection.

It was my first -- first authentic Chinese condiment in the pantry, that is -- and it's still my favorite, the one that makes my heart sing (and, occasionally, burn), the one I can't live without.

My husband Ted, who is not the least bit jealous of this relationship, will tell you that I get twitchy when I pull the last jar off the pantry shelf. I'm happier with a little stash of three or four jars of my favorite Lan Chi brand with their bright-green-and-white labels in Chinese and English.

Nothing, not even chocolate or lemon or Fresca, excites my taste buds in quite the same way.

Spike seasoning (Recipe: Spiked Cornish game hens)

Not Quite Turkey Week, Day Two: An updated post from the archives, with new photos, links, and printer-friendly recipe.

Helmut Eugen Benjamin Gellert Hauser must have had the world's most perfect pantry.

How else could he have concocted his famous Spike seasoning, which combines 39 ingredients (Really. 39. Can you count them in the photograph?):

Ground cardamom (Recipe: spice rub for chicken)

How do you say cardamom?

Nobody's entirely sure of the etymology of the word, though it originated in ancient Greek (kardamomom), but the names for this popular spice from the ginger family are varied: shooshmir (Armenian); sugmel (Tibetan); trúc sa (Vietnamese); phalazee (Burmese); elaichi (Hindi); habbahan (Arabic); karudamon (Japanese); cardamomo (Italian); kardamonas (Lithuanian); kardemon (Estonian); kardemomme (Danish).

My favorite is kardemumma (Swedish) perhaps because I can imagine my Swedish brother-in-law Nils pronouncing each lilting syllable -- kar de MUM a -- his blue eyes twinkling, a glass of cardamom-laced akvavit raised for a toast.

Flavored sea salt (Recipe: Grilled sirloin tips with asparagus)

In the beginning, everything was pink.

Not just pink. Barbie pink.

My first big-girl bedroom.

My first and only prom gown.

My first contact lenses. (I was 14 years old, and when the doctor asked what color I wanted, I said, "Ooooh, I always wanted blue eyes." He pointed out that the lenses wouldn't change my brown eye color, so the sassy teenager in me replied, "Well, then, might as well make them pink." He did.)

My first sea salt was pink, too, a lovely, faintly volcanic, not-at-all-Barbie, reddish-pink salt from Hawaii.

Until a couple of years ago, I didn't really "get" salt. I don't mean that I didn't have salt in The Perfect Pantry; I had plenty. Iodized table salt (for baking) and kosher salt (for everyday). That Hawaiian pink salt. Black salt. French fleur de sel and Portuguese flor de sal.

I pinched here and there, and used my salts sparingly for baking and on matzoh brei. Then, just when I'd gotten the hang of colored salts, I discovered flavored sea salt.