Tajin.
I was informed about this seasoning in my late 50s.
I am presently in my late 50s.
My autocorrect won’t let me spell it, and replaces it with ‘taken’.
All my family is taken with taken. I mean, Tajin. I believe it’s pronounced like Tuh-hEEn, but I’m too old and tired to care.
Have I tried it? Yes.
On what? I don’t recall.
How was it? See previous answer.
I’m not against spices. We’ve an entire cabinet full, most of which are hidden beyond view and reach. For example, I am cultured enough to know that celery salt is good on Hot Dogs and Frank’s Red hot goes good on everything. That’s about as sophisticated as I get.
So, the reason I write this is because yesterday my granddaughter, the effervescent flailer Georgia Rose, a wascal amongst rascals, was eating an avocado ( how an avocado made its way into my house is another story for another day but this is yet another item I do not eat- knowingly) —and Georgia says to me “George, I need some Tajin!”
She commenced to sprinkle some on her avocado and eat it.
I love this girl. But she’s only 7 years old. She’s eating avocados with Tajin on them.
When I was 7 I didn’t even know how to ask for salt and pepper.
What’s next when your so spiced up that Tajin doesn’t quite do it for you anymore? You start dabbling in ginger root and caraway seeds and before you know it you’re up to your nostrils in pink Himalayan kosher salt and Saffron.
Ain’t life complicated enough?
Pass the salt.
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