The Other Spice Girl

“I must have saffron to colour the warden pies; mace; dates? - none, that's out of my note; nutmegs, seven; a race or two of ginger, but that I may beg; four pound of prunes, and as many of raisins o' the sun.” ~ The Winter's Tale

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(This post is inspired by my dreamer friend Relyn and my gourmet gal pal Christie at Fig & Cherry, thank you!)

I am a Spice Girl. Not a Posh or Baby or Sporty or even a Tango Spice Girl (she is the secret Spice Girl you may not know about).

I am a Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme Girl. Actually more like a Saffron, Herbes de Provence, Garam Masala, Cardamom and Coriander Girl. You purists are going to say that some of these are herbs, not spices, and yes, you are right. But bear with me.

Before I moved to San Francisco, I used to cook a lot. One of the benefits of living in this town is that the opportunities for adventuring in the world of food is pretty endless and is as irresistable as catnip for any foodie.

So, why cook when you can explore? To me, eating is another form of travel, especially when you can try foods from all over the world in just one place.

Although my neighborhood trends more towards Asian cuisines--fresh Hong Kong-style dim sum, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Thai, Indonesian and Vietnamese--I can also easily get a variety of other cuisines, including Mexican, Italian, Indian, Fusion, Mediterranean, Ethiopian (which I have not tried yet but mean to) as well as good ol' American fare like hamburgers and onion rings. That is not counting the bakeries, cheese shop, gelateria and numerous coffee houses.

All of this bounty lies one, two, three blocks from my front door. The possibilities are even more exponential if I hop on the N-Judah to the next neighborhoods of Cole Valley or the Haight or the Castro, or grab a cab to destinations farther across town.

One of the things I do miss though is the exploration and acquisition of unique food stuffs. When I lived in Silicon Valley, my favorite haunts were the Indian and Middle Eastern groceries. I loved filling my basket with herbs and spices I'd never heard of but wanting to have them in my larder, just in case.

I am, or was, a spice collector. I don't know why. A lot of the things I never even used. But it was such great fun finding them and wondering what they were. The Indian groceries especially were a delight.

In between the piles of colorful boxes of incense and black hair dye, you could find aesofotida, which I purchased but never used, or glass jars of pickled limes or dented cans of coconut cream from lands far, far away. You could peruse the countless types of dal while listening to Bollywood hits and watching women in colorful saris pick out their vegetables. Just being in those small, independent markets was like an instant passport to somewhere else, all for the price of a bag of interesting groceries.

I've done my share of exploring the Asian markets at the end of Irving Street, where the live fish swim in tanks before they meet their makers and where tough old Chinese ladies push each other (and you) to get at the produce, and I've wandered the less exotic Russian market where the stony-faced man guards the deli case full of bland-looking meats and sausages, but these shops don't have the fantasy-producing ingredients of the spice markets I've left behind.

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The photos in this post are some of my favorites. Taken in Venice, which to me evokes dreams of the Spice Trade and ships laden with nutmegs and cinnamon and black pepper, is this shop in Cannaregio, very close to the Rialto Bridge.

When I saw this shop window, I stopped dead in my tracks. It was the Spice Shop of My Dreams. The displays were so perfect and lovingly prepared with every imaginable kind of spice and seasoning.

In thinking about this post, I've been doing my homework about the Spice Trade and its history. Unfortunately, it's a history fraught with the destruction of habitats, cultures and empires.

But the more I read and learn about history, it seems that most human endeavors are filled with such things. I tend to go for the fantasy and leave the hard truth behind at times.

Perhaps knowing more about the history and spirit of where these spices came from gives me more to digest that just the taste they bring to the food I eat. And hopefully because of it, I might appreciate my food all the more.

For more interesting information about spices and the Spice Trade, check here, here and here.