I wish I had a spice cabinet. It seems quite exotic, all those exciting flavours stored in a dedicated place with its own little wooden door. It's the aroma to a gateway to another land of Arabian Nights and simpler times. The wood itself would have been quite an aroma. I wish that there would be little ceramic pots, each labelled with their own spoons sticking out for detached measures. But the smells would just rot away on exposure to oxygen and it would be carried away by the fresh air. Instead, I'd have to settle for little jars or plastic pots to make do with the spices that I can afford, each with screw-on lids. And they’d be put unceremoniously in one shelf of the cupboard rather than having their own dedicated cabinet. Who knows, one day I might stretch to a spice rack but I’d have to ensure that the jar size would never change. And it’ll probably expire before I use it all. Then just when I think I've got a particular spice, I'll never be able to find it when I need it.
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