I have a spice problem.
It started the day I walked into Penzey's Spices, right here in my hometown of St. Paul, and I've never really looked back to grocery store spices since.
Don't be fooled by their decidedly unsexy website. Penzey's Spices are the BOMB in terms of value, selection, quality and price. Over the years, I've pretty much replaced every single old jar of dried this and powdered that with a fresh, affordable and tasty replacement courtesy of Penzeys.
And because I'm still filling my days with all that stuff I never had time for as a full-time, she-works-hard-for-the-money graphic designer, the spice zone was the most recent recipient of my unemployed cleaning attentions.
Where do my spices live, you're wondering? I keep them here:
In an old house, you have to be creative with space. I will never know the joys of a walk-in pantry, and so I improvise, finding places for things that might not be ideal, but that work nevertheless. And what's the cute little reddish orange door?
That's just the express elevator to hell... also known as my laundry chute. It's such a convenient set up. I can toss down my dirty dish cloths AND grab some Albanian Rubbed Sage while I'm at it!
And I don't know about you, but there is something undeniably exciting at the thought of my sage being rubbed by an Albanian before it finds its way into my stuffing. But I digress…
Here's the long shot of the spice zone:
(And yes, this shot was taken from one of my more recent organizational projects, the mud room, which a week later is still looking mighty fine, if I do say so.)
I guess the point of my story is this: my spice house is in order, and if you've never checked out Penzey's, you really owe it to yourself to do so. And soon.
Because you never know what spices will soon be on your list of all-time favorites.
