[:en]On our recent trip to Seattle we visited a diner (actually quite a good restaurant) called the Steelhead Diner, very near to the famous Pike’s market. Quite unusually these days, they had condiments on the table – salt and pepper – but not your run-of-the-mill salt and pepper. For a start the salt was darker in colour than the pepper, but fortunately both were clearly labelled. Smoked salt and garlic pepper (although that is not the full description which I’m afraid I don’t remember). They were both unusual and delicious, and fortunately both were available from a spice shop in the adjacent market. We bought a bag of each, wrapped them in several layers (as they were quite pungent), and packed them in our hand luggage. This was our first mistake….. Both in Seattle and New York the airport security picked them up on x-ray, bags were searched and we had to explain these mysterious powders to U.S. customs officers.

When we eventually arrived back in Spain I at least had the presence of mind to temporarily store them in air-tight glass containers, until I could find some suitable shakers for the table. Now, in Galicia we already have a humidity problem, whereby it’s virtually impossible to keep a pot of free running salt, and so I decided to buy something special, from Switzerland, in order to keep them dry and in good condition. Air tight condiment pots designed for mountain trekking and climbing – these should do the job!

When these fancy spice pots arrived I used a small funnel to fill them, but when one large grain of the pepper spilled onto the work surface I almost instinctively put it on my tongue to try it – mistake number two. This was the hottest thing that I had ever put in my mouth – and this is coming from someone who much prefers their Indian food ‘tear-inducingly’ hot. My mouth was on fire (I can only imagine like eating a super hot chilli), and so I rushed to the fridge and took several large swigs of cold milk direct from the bottle. Just as well that we had no tastings programmed because I  really couldn’t feel my tongue!

The final chapter of my spice story is that not only did we have to put the glass container (that I had used to store these condiments) through the dishwasher, but we also had to wash out the entire cupboard just to get rid of the smoked spice smell. Powerful stuff…..[:es]On our recent trip to Seattle we visited a diner (actually quite a good restaurant) called the Steelhead Diner, very near to the famous Pike’s market. Quite unusually these days, they had condiments on the table – salt and pepper – but not your run-of-the-mill salt and pepper. For a start the salt was darker in colour than the pepper, but fortunately both were clearly labelled. Smoked salt and garlic pepper (although that is not the full description which I’m afraid I don’t remember). They were both unusual and delicious, and fortunately both were available from a spice shop in the adjacent market. We bought a bag of each, wrapped them in several layers (as they were quite pungent), and packed them in our hand luggage. This was our first mistake….. Both in Seattle and New York the airport security picked them up on x-ray, bags were searched and we had to explain these mysterious powders to U.S. customs officers.

When we eventually arrived back in Spain I at least had the presence of mind to temporarily store them in air-tight glass containers, until I could find some suitable shakers for the table. Now, in Galicia we already have a humidity problem, whereby it’s virtually impossible to keep a pot of free running salt, and so I decided to buy something special, from Switzerland, in order to keep them dry and in good condition. Air tight condiment pots designed for mountain trekking and climbing – these should do the job!

When these fancy spice pots arrived I used a small funnel to fill them, but when one large grain of the pepper spilled onto the work surface I almost instinctively put it on my tongue to try it – mistake number two. This was the hottest thing that I had ever put in my mouth – and this is coming from someone who much prefers their Indian food ‘tear-inducingly’ hot. My mouth was on fire (I can only imagine like eating a super hot chilli), and so I rushed to the fridge and took several large swigs of cold milk direct from the bottle. Just as well that we had no tastings programmed because I  really couldn’t feel my tongue!

The final chapter of my spice story is that not only did we have to put the glass container (that I had used to store these condiments) through the dishwasher, but we also had to wash out the entire cupboard just to get rid of the smoked spice smell. Powerful stuff…..[:]