Mexico · Cumin & Chile
A longer read about culture, kitchen rhythm, and a spice that carries home. Back to all stories
Toast cumin until it coughs perfume, then grind it warm; it releases a grounded bass note that holds hands with chile. In frijoles de la olla, that duet turns simplicity into soul. Ancho carries raisins and sun; guajillo brings a polite flame; together they paint tomatoes into something dusk-colored and savory. The pot becomes the house, and the house becomes generous: an extra tortilla, a seat pulled closer, a spoon returned for another pass. Cumin is memory in the seams of the pan; chile is the present, bright and alive. Supper is the conversation they keep having.