Short Story 3: Spice Man Spiff in the Battle Against Bland...ness

We find our hero in Akko, an old city on the coast of the Mediterranean that was home to Arabs, Mameluks, Crusaders, and more. Even Napoleon tried to live here, but his application was firmly denied. In the center of the maze-like market, Spice Man Spiff has built his fortress of deliciousness, a beacon of hope for the unwashed, and washed (...and the people that pretended to wash but really just splashed some water under their arms), masses. But you have to know what you are looking for, dear Reader, for unlike all the stalls around him, Spiff does not display his merchandise out front. Instead he has pictures of horses and large casbahs hanging in the windows (WINDOWS! Already this should be a sign that Spiff is not your average spice guy), largely blocking the passerby's view of the interior of the spacious shop (I do mean spacious. You could have easily stuck 7 tall people in there and had them spin around with their arms out wide and they never would have touched one another...if the giant L-shaped counter were removed). Most seller's stalls are tiny and cramped, forcing prospective buyers to almost spoon the shopowner if they want to look at the wares that might be hidden within the dark recesses of store. As a result, most businessmen take advantage of the small piece of sidewalk they have outside their stalls and display half the contents of their respective stores on hangers, boards, barrels, shelves, tables, and people (and sometimes animals, but that is a serious gamble depending on what they're selling).

Many spice merchants have huge barrels of paprika, curry, cinnamon, and more in front of their establishment, perfuming the air and the people walking by. Not so with Spice Man Spiff. He believes in the purity of his product (and I suspect he has made enough money in his business to buy a space that is adequate for his needs and those of his customers...I mean disciples). So there we were, three weary walkers who had traveled to places far (I consider going from Seattle to Jerusalem far) and wide (I have been to the Grand Canyon once...it is very wide) and had read in at least two guidebooks that this establishment was the Holy Grail of spices. (Incidentally, it has been said that the Holy Grail was found in Akko...or maybe it was Ceasarea...I'll have to get back to you on that.) As we walked in, Spiff gracefully rose from his seat in the corner and greeted us. One arm (the larger of the two) of his counter top was devoted entirely to two rows of enormous glass jars that held the individual spices that had drawn us to the sight. The other arm was a simple glassed in cabinet full of sponges, shells, a bejeweled horse (obviously my favorite), and many other odd items.

Later on in our spice odyssey, I asked Spiff what that cabinet was all about. He replied simply, "It is my Nirvana." That's the kind of guy our hero is. Back to the story at hand, Spiff (or BLANKETY BLANK as he is actually called in real life) began unscrewing the tops of various jars, offering each one to the three of us in turn, so we could smell it, guess the contents, and be praised or learn a lesson (depending upon our answers).

After we had smelled the entire contents of the store (including the fragrant individual just outside the door), we began making our choices. By this point in the encounter, Mom (along with C and I) had impressed Spiff with our appreciation of his spices and the knowledge he had shared with us. We were rewarded with many recipes from Spiff himself that we could use with our new spices. But that was not enough for Spiff, his happiness at the bounty we purchased could not be expressed in simple recipes. We did make a sizable purchase as this image of our bounty displays.

He walked over to the spice counter and started pulling more spices for us as a gift. And still it wasn't enough. He gave us a bag of his own special blend of Arabic coffee...still not enough. Then he pulled a small clay oil lamp from his Nirvana and presented it to us as a token of his friendship. In the fight against tastelessness (wow, apparently that is actually a word...I thought I was making it up) Space Man Spiff is truly the champion. And so dear Reader, I leave you again...mostly because I want to go eat a piece of cake [I made my first cake all by myself last night and while it was only Betty Crocker Rainbow Chip cake with Rainbow Chip frosting (and thus not that difficult) it turned out beautifully. Also, I did have to convert the temperatures from F to C...but google helped with that.] And now for a Cake Break from your local Nardpants...