Simply put, we season our food to make it more delicious, to enhance it, to make it a rounder, brighter, better, happier version of itself. For starters, look to salt, spices, and chiles. You need them in your kitchen.
The word spice is now used colloquially to describe nearly any seasoning or flavorful substance that’s used to make food more savory, so defining exactly what a spice is can sometimes seem a bit ambiguous, or an exercise in semantics. Cilantro, for example, is an herb when fresh and green, but its dried seeds are the spice called coriander. Still, most spices are not herbs. Let’s agree that spices are more apt to be dried seeds, barks, pods, and resins, and that herbs are more likely leafy and plantlike.
We use spices in both understated and exuberant ways, depending on what we happen to be cooking. A little freshly ground pepper. A teaspoon of caraway seeds. A pinch of cinnamon. At the other end of the spectrum are customized multiple-spice mixtures that may become pungent Indian curries or fragrant North African stews. There are thousands of spices, of course, and here I offer the tiniest tip of the iceberg, with a few techniques for using them. You’ll find other examples throughout the book.
Hot chiles are welcome in most kitchens around the world, and certainly in mine. Used judiciously, even in minuscule quantities, they add a rich vegetal kick wherever they are employed. I heartily endorse them. The result can range from zippy to medium-hot to muy picante, to match the cook’s palate—or toned down to please guests who can’t handle too much heat. Chiles are represented here in all forms: fresh green chiles of all sorts, used raw or roasted, and an assortment of dried red chiles, whole, flaked, and powdered.