I learned a new Spanish word the other day: “sazón” referring to someone’s flair for seasoning a dish.
I, however, was taught it in the sense of my sazón being a bit off – a friend had made me lunch, and was shocked at how I was mutilating his lovingly made dish. His verbal vomit roughly translated as: “Dammit Erin, you weirdo, stop adding so much shite to the gorgeous meals I make you. Seriously, that fried egg was perfect and then you tipped the contents of an entire pepper shaker on top. Look! It’s completely black. Wait. Wha? What are you doing? STOP THAT. I already put salt on it. NO. Put that chile down. DO NOT PICK UP THE TABASCO SAUCE!!”
Yep. I love spice. And after an unexplicable craving for western junk took me to a burger joint in Huanchaco (near Trujillo on Peru’s north coast) I made friends with the owner and watched him delighted as he prepared chillis to make hot sauce from his mother’s recipe.
Who can honestly say that this rainbow on a plate doesn’t get their mouth watering?
Ya got sazón?