Smoked paprika: Too much of a good thing
Posted by Sarah LemonWhen it comes to herbs and spices, my general rule of thumb has been the more the better.
Of course there are exceptions, like that pinch of cardamom that can flavor an entire 8-by-8 pan of rice pudding like a Scandinavian pastry. Or that vigorous dash of dried thyme that leaves meatloaf tasting a tad bitter.
But I’ve always figured the process of experimenting is more valuable than the end product. How else are you going to know a seasoning’s limits?
Unfortunately, my husband reached his limit last night after six months of enduring my infatuation with smoked paprika. I’ll admit to being maybe a little too enamored with this bright-red jar after receiving it as a free sample, one of many that inevitably reach newspaper food editors.
I’ve always loved paprika, but my former supply had gone somewhat stale. And with it’s updated flavor, this new spice seemed the perfect way to put a spin on many of my tried-and-true recipes.
So I used smoked paprika in everything from raspberry vinaigrette to the egg salad my mom recently raved over. It became my standard seasoning for fish, whether pan-seared or broiled, and showed up in this blog last week as a rub for braised rabbit.
You get the picture. I’d become so accustomed to the taste of smoked paprika that adding it to any concoction became as automatic as salt and pepper, which is how it ended up in a batch of guacamole I agreed to whip up last night for my husband, Will. One taste and he knew, but he decided to let me squirm anyway.
“What’s that smoky flavor?”
“Uh, smoked paprika.”
And then, after so many months, the inevitable: “I don’t really care for it.”
Of course, I thought the guacamole tasted great, the addition of smoked paprika sheer genius. But with my overindulgence apparent, I promised to lay off for a while.
When I’m cooking for him, that is.