Sriracha has had its time in the sun. It’s splashed across everything from street tacos to haute cuisine, tattooed on hipsters’ arms, and—let’s be honest—sometimes overused to the point where the food beneath becomes an afterthought. But the chilli world is vast, and there’s an entire constellation of fiery, tangy, smoky, and funky sauces just waiting to burn your lips in new and exciting ways. Forget the green-topped bottle for a moment and let’s take a globe-trotting look at some less-famous chilli companions.
Gochujang: Korea’s Fermented Firework
If Sriracha is a sharp jab, gochujang is a slow burn. This Korean paste is thick, sticky, and deep red—like a chilli sauce that’s gone to university, studied fermentation, and returned with a PhD in umami. Made from chillies, glutinous rice, and fermented soybeans, it’s equal parts heat, sweetness, and funk.
It’s not something you pour straight onto pizza, but it forms the backbone of dishes like bibimbap and tteokbokki. Stir it into a marinade for chicken wings or whisk it with sesame oil and vinegar for a dressing that makes even plain lettuce taste exciting. Think of it as the grown-up cousin in the chilli sauce family—complex, balanced, and slightly mysterious.
Berbere Paste: Ethiopia’s Fiery Soul
Berbere isn’t just a sauce—it’s a cultural experience. This blend of chillies, garlic, ginger, fenugreek, and a cavalcade of spices is often pounded into a thick paste, used as the heart and heat of Ethiopian cooking.
The flavour is bold, smoky, and aromatic—perfect for slow-cooked stews like doro wat (a rich chicken and egg dish that might change your life). It’s the kind of heat that doesn’t just tingle on the tongue; it warms your chest, seeps into your bones, and makes you feel like you’ve been hugged by fire itself.
Chamoy: Mexico’s Sweet-Sour Kick
Now for something playful. Chamoy is Mexico’s answer to “what if chilli sauce wasn’t just hot, but also fruity, sour, and mischievously tangy?” Made from pickled fruit (often apricots, plums, or mangos) blended with chillies and lime, chamoy is the condiment equivalent of a cheeky wink.
You’ll find it drizzled over fresh fruit, slathered on snacks, or rimmed around beer glasses. It’s not just spicy; it’s a sensory circus. One bite and your tastebuds go from sweet to sour to hot in seconds. Honestly, it’s less of a sauce and more of a rollercoaster.
Zhug: Yemen’s Green Lightning Bolt
If you’ve never tried zhug, imagine pesto, but someone swapped out basil for coriander, went heavy on the chillies, and turned the flavour dial up to eleven. This Yemeni sauce is green, herby, garlicky, and unapologetically fiery.
Traditionally spooned onto flatbreads, falafel, or grilled meats, it’s a sauce that cuts through richness and adds a bright, herbal punch. The coriander makes it fresh, the garlic makes it bold, and the chillies make sure you don’t forget it. In short: it’s chaos in the best way.
Nam Prik Pao: Thailand’s Smoky Secret
Thailand may be famous for sriracha, but it has another chilli treasure up its sleeve: nam prik pao. Unlike its glossy cousin, this sauce is dark, jammy, and a little bit mysterious. It’s made by roasting chillies, shallots, and garlic until they’re smoky and sweet, then pounding them into a paste.
It’s often hidden inside tom yum soup, lending its depth without taking centre stage. But spread it on toast with a fried egg, and you’ll wonder why you ever bothered with plain butter. It’s proof that heat doesn’t need to shout; sometimes it whispers, low and smoky, and still gets your attention.
Molho Apimentado: Brazil’s Bright Bite
Every Brazilian family seems to have their own version of molho apimentado, a fresh chilli sauce that sits casually on tables, waiting to wake up your beans, rice, or grilled meats. It’s usually made with vinegar, fresh chillies, onions, and a good squeeze of lime.
Unlike some sauces that cling and smoulder, this one is sharp and perky—like a squirt of chilli vinaigrette. It’s the taste of a backyard barbecue, sweaty beers, and someone’s uncle singing badly off-key. In other words, joy in a bottle.
Why Bother Beyond Sriracha?
Sriracha is fine—no one’s taking it away from you. But clinging only to that red squeeze bottle is like listening to one pop song on repeat and pretending you know music. Exploring these global chilli sauces opens up new textures, new layers of heat, and entirely new ways to play with food.
Whether you want fermented funk, smoky whispers, tangy fruit explosions, or herby fire, there’s a sauce for you. So next time you reach for that familiar rooster bottle, pause. Maybe swap it out for a jar of gochujang, a spoon of zhug, or a splash of chamoy. Your taste buds will thank you—once they’ve stopped sweating.
Photo by Ted Eytan — CC BY-SA 2.0
If you’ve ever stared blankly into the cupboard at seven o’clock on a Wednesday evening, you’ll know the sinking feeling: a row of dusty spice jars, each containing exactly one teaspoon less than a recipe calls for. By the time you’ve measured, chopped, toasted, and blended, the enthusiasm for dinner has collapsed into thoughts of toast.
Enter the humble homemade spice paste. Not the shop-bought tubes that taste vaguely of vinegar, but jars of flavour you can build yourself and keep ready in the fridge. They’re the secret handshake of good weeknight cooking: an easy curry base to save you from takeaway menus, a punchy harissa recipe that perks up veg, or a za’atar marinade that makes chicken taste like it came from somewhere far more glamorous than your grill pan.
Why Turn Spices Into Pastes?
Because spices are at their most charming when given a bit of oil and company. Left alone in jars, they fade. Mixed into a paste with garlic, lemon, or onion, they stay vibrant and spread evenly through food. Oil acts like a bodyguard, keeping air out and flavour in.
There’s also the small matter of laziness. A spoonful of paste is infinitely easier than rummaging for six spice jars while the onions threaten to burn. It’s cooking insurance, or call it meal prep for busy cooks.
The General Formula
Almost every paste, no matter the cuisine, follows a similar outline:
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Dry spices – roasted or freshly ground.
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Aromatics – garlic, onion, ginger, chillies if you like them.
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Something sharp – lemon, lime, vinegar, tamarind.
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Oil – olive, sunflower, or whatever’s friendly with your chosen flavours.
Everything goes into a blender, and out comes a smooth, fragrant paste. Simple.
Three Pastes Worth Keeping on Hand
1. Harissa
A fiery North African blend that perks up couscous, grilled veg, or even a fried egg.
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Soaked dried chillies, cumin, coriander, caraway.
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Garlic and roasted red peppers.
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Olive oil and lemon juice.
Blend until thick and red, then cover with a drizzle of oil in the jar. This harissa recipe is especially good spread under cheese on toast for a quick, spicy snack.
2. Curry Base
The all-rounder. Build almost any curry—or cheat your way to something resembling one—just by starting here.
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Onions (cooked until soft), garlic, ginger.
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Ground coriander, cumin, turmeric, and chillies if you want heat.
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Tomatoes, blended in for body.
This easy curry base benefits from a quick simmer before storing, to mellow the onions. Spoon it into ice cube trays if you want neat little portions ready to toss into a hot pan.
3. Za’atar Marinade
Usually a dry spice mix, but much more versatile when you turn it into paste.
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Za’atar blend (thyme, sesame, sumac).
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Garlic, lemon juice, olive oil.
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Optional: yoghurt for creaminess.
Brush this za’atar marinade over chicken, toss it with roast potatoes, or smear it on flatbread before baking.
Keeping Them Fresh
Here’s where the science bit sneaks in.
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Use clean, sterilised jars. A quick boil in water or a dishwasher cycle works.
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Always smooth a layer of oil across the top of the paste. It keeps out oxygen.
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Store in the fridge for up to three weeks.
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Or freeze in small portions for several months.
The freezer method is especially handy—imagine a bag of little flavour bombs waiting to be dropped into a pan of beans or soup.
How They Make Life Easier
You get home late. The fridge holds one zucchini, half a block of tofu, and eggs. Normally, this ends with toast or cereal. But if you’ve got curry paste, dinner suddenly looks respectable: stir-fry the tofu, add a spoon of paste, splash in coconut milk. Done.
Or it’s barbecue season, and instead of fussing with marinades, you just paint za’atar paste onto skewers. Guests think you’ve worked hard; really, you worked smart last Sunday when you blended the batch.
Spice pastes are less about culinary brilliance and more about looking after your tired, hungry future self.
Beyond the Basics
Once you get into the habit, it’s hard to stop. Green curry paste (lemongrass, coriander, galangal), chimichurri paste (parsley, garlic, vinegar), or a ginger-scallion paste to drizzle over noodles. You’ll start inventing your own, tailored to what you actually cook.
The beauty of these homemade spice pastes is that they travel across cuisines without fuss. A spoon of harissa in lentil soup, a smear of za’atar on roasted aubergine, or curry cubes keeping weeknights interesting.
Final Word
Making spice pastes is like writing a love letter to your future appetite. It doesn’t take long, but it pays back every time you’re too tired to chop, measure, and toast. Build a few jars, tuck them into your fridge or freezer, and let them be the small act of kindness that rescues your weekday dinners.
Image from Pixabay.
We all know olive oil. It’s the A-lister of the oil world. Shows up at every dinner party, hogs the spotlight in salad dressings, and insists on being “extra virgin” (a bit smug, if you ask me). Then there’s sunflower oil, vegetable oil, and the ever-dramatic coconut oil, which went through its celebrity “superfood” phase before being quietly side-eyed by nutritionists.
But what about the lesser-known bottles? The quiet wallflowers sitting on the lower shelf, waiting to be noticed? It turns out there’s a whole gang of uncommon oils—nutty, seedy, and gloriously fragrant—that deserve their moment in your frying pan, salad bowl, or drizzle bottle. Let’s meet them.
Hazelnut Oil: Like Liquid Nutella Without the Guilt
Hazelnuts aren’t just for chocolate spreads that you secretly eat with a spoon at 11 p.m. The oil pressed from them is golden, nutty, and ever so slightly sweet. It’s not a heavy hitter for cooking—think of it more like a finishing flourish.
Drizzle a bit on roasted veggies and suddenly they taste like they’ve gone to finishing school in Paris. Whisk it into a vinaigrette and your salad goes from “sad desk lunch” to “Michelin-star audition”. Just don’t cook it over high heat unless you enjoy the smell of burnt nuts (and not in a charming way).
Pro tip: Hazelnut oil + roasted root veg = applause from guests who will think you’ve taken a short course in French cuisine.
Macadamia Oil: The Rich Aunt of the Oil World
Macadamia nuts are posh. They’re the nut equivalent of someone who owns a summer home and insists on calling it a “cottage”. Their oil is buttery, smooth, and frankly a little indulgent. But here’s the kicker—it’s also surprisingly practical.
Unlike hazelnut oil, macadamia oil laughs in the face of high heat. Frying? Searing? Roasting? No problem. It’s got a high smoke point, which basically means you won’t set off your smoke alarm every time you use it.
The flavour is subtle—lightly nutty, a bit creamy—so it won’t overpower your food. It’s brilliant for stir-fries or even baking. Some people even rub it on their skin, but unless you fancy smelling like a fancy cookie all day, I’d stick to the frying pan.
Pumpkin Seed Oil: The Goth Kid of the Pantry
Pumpkin seed oil looks different. Deep green with a reddish shimmer, it could be bottled vampire blood. Don’t be fooled though—it’s not scary, it’s delicious. Rich, nutty, almost earthy, it has a bold flavour that can stand up to hearty dishes.
It’s best raw or just gently warmed. Splash some over a bowl of soup and suddenly it looks like you’ve been trained by Gordon Ramsay himself. Austrians famously pour it over vanilla ice cream, which sounds mad until you try it. Sweet, creamy ice cream with nutty, green oil? Magic.
Warning: it stains everything. Your clothes, your wooden spoons, possibly your soul. Wear an apron.
Walnut Oil: For the Sophisticated Snackers
Walnut oil is basically autumn in a bottle. Toasty, rich, slightly bitter in the best way. It’s not for frying unless you want to waste money and anger walnuts everywhere. Instead, think salad dressings, pasta finishing touches, or drizzling over cheese plates to make yourself look more cultured than you really are.
Pair it with blue cheese, pears, and walnuts themselves if you’re feeling meta. Or just splash some over roasted Brussels sprouts and wait for someone to say, “Who made these?!”
Avocado Oil: The Overachiever You Forgot About
Alright, avocado oil isn’t exactly unknown anymore, but it deserves a nod. It’s like that kid in school who was good at everything: smart, athletic, and could also play the guitar. With its high smoke point and creamy taste, it works in everything from roasting potatoes to making mayonnaise.
And unlike its more famous cousin olive oil, avocado oil doesn’t dominate the flavour. It’s like a polite guest at a dinner party—it mingles but doesn’t hog the conversation.
Why Bother with These Oils?
You might be thinking: “Do I really need to shell out for fancy nut and seed oils when the supermarket bottle of canola works just fine?” Fair question. But here’s the thing—these oils are like the seasoning cast of your kitchen. You don’t use them every day, but when you do, they elevate your dish from decent to memorable.
Think of them as culinary mood lighting. You wouldn’t flood your house with neon pink bulbs all year, but you’d put them on for a party. Likewise, you’re not cooking chips in pumpkin seed oil (unless you’re Jeff Bezos), but you aredrizzling a few drops over soup to show off.
Final Drizzle
So, while olive oil will always be the Beyoncé of the pantry, it’s worth making space for the other band members. Hazelnut, macadamia, pumpkin seed, walnut, avocado—they bring nuance, depth, and a touch of showmanship.
Next time you’re in a specialty shop and spot one of these bottles, don’t walk by. Grab it, experiment, and for heaven’s sake, wear an apron if it’s pumpkin seed oil.
Your taste buds will thank you. Your friends will think you’ve joined a secret cooking society. And you’ll never look at a sad salad the same way again.
Photo by Simi, A Creative Commons image on PixaHive
In a world of molecular gastronomy and lab-grown meat, it’s comforting to know that some of the oldest culinary secrets are bubbling back to the surface—quite literally—from the pots of kitchens around the globe. Enter: spice blends. Not the single-note shakers of dusty supermarket paprika, but the heady, ancestral mixes like garam masala, za’atar, and ras el hanout—each a symphony composed centuries ago, now playing again in modern kitchens like a classic vinyl on a Bluetooth speaker.
The Return of the Kitchen Shamans
Once upon a time, every home had its spice whisperer. A grandmother with a keen nose and a wrist flick honed by decades of instinct. She didn’t measure. She summoned. That’s because spice blends are less about rules and more about rhythm—culinary jazz built on base notes of cumin and coriander, mid-tones of cardamom and clove, and high notes like saffron or sumac that can make your tongue feel like it’s walking through a Moroccan bazaar.
Today, that same instinct is finding new life in millennial kitchens and five-star test labs alike. The old scrolls are being dusted off. And in this alchemy of flavor, ancient spice blends are now gracing everything from grain bowls and roasted veggies to craft cocktails and gelato. Yes—ras el hanout gelato. We live in spicy times.
It’s the same revivalist spirit you’ll find in digital kitchens too—like Koi Fortune, a platform that blends tradition and innovation by offering culinary-themed games infused with cultural heritage. While you spin the reels, you’ll find symbols that echo the same spices making a comeback in our real-world dishes.
Why Now? A Hunger for Depth
So, why this sudden resurrection of culinary antiquity?
One word: depth. In an age of fast eats and food hacks, we’re starving for soul. Spice blends deliver just that. They’re time capsules of culture. They carry memory and mystery in every pinch. A spoon of za’atar can time-travel you to a Lebanese mountaintop picnic. A dash of garam masala? Straight into a Delhi kitchen where onions caramelize like whispered secrets.
Add to that a growing thirst for health-conscious, plant-forward cooking. These blends don’t just pack flavor—they bring anti-inflammatory properties, antioxidants, and enough ancestral street cred to make turmeric the Beyoncé of spices.
Garam Masala: The North Star of Indian Heat
In India, garam masala isn’t just a spice blend. It’s a signature—personalized, protected, passed down. While the ingredients vary from household to household, its backbone often includes black pepper, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, and cumin. Some toss in nutmeg. Others swear by mace. But everyone agrees: it’s added last, like a blessing.
Today’s chefs are remixing it into burgers, cocktails, and even truffle popcorn. It’s fusion without the confusion. A heat not of Scoville units, but of warm, coaxing complexity.
Za’atar: The Wild Herb That Went Global
Za’atar, the Middle Eastern mix of wild thyme, sumac, sesame seeds, and salt, was once smuggled over borders in cloth sacks. Now it’s drizzled over avocado toast in hipster cafés and folded into sourdough loaves at artisanal bakeries in Brooklyn.
Its brightness is unmatched. The tang of sumac is like lemon without the wetness. The sesame crunch adds gravitas. And the thyme? Well, that’s the soul. In Israel, Lebanon, and Palestine, it’s eaten with olive oil and bread like communion. In the West, it’s now dusted over roasted carrots, labneh dips, and—believe it or not—cheddar cheese crisps.
Ras el Hanout: Morocco’s Flavor Crown
Literally meaning “head of the shop,” ras el hanout is the apex predator of spice blends. A North African medley of over a dozen spices—sometimes up to thirty—each version is a spice merchant’s personal magnum opus.
We’re talking cinnamon, nutmeg, turmeric, rose petals, fennel, anise, ginger, paprika, allspice… imagine a masquerade ball of flavors. Today’s culinary adventurers are folding it into lamb meatballs, couscous-stuffed bell peppers, and even vegan stews. Some bold bartenders are even infusing it into syrups for spicy-sweet gin cocktails. Alchemy, indeed.
Reinvention Without Erasure
What’s beautiful about this comeback is that it’s not about erasing the past. It’s about reinvention with reverence. Cooks today aren’t just copying grandma—they’re collaborating with her ghost. They’re blending tradition with intuition. They’re turning flavor into a fingerprint.
Instagram chefs film their spice grind rituals like sacred rites. Food bloggers wax poetic about “earthiness” and “floral top notes” like sommeliers. And those little glass jars? They’re the new reliquaries.
From Pantry to Personality
More than ever, your spice shelf is a reflection of your personality. Are you bold and bright? Reach for za’atar. Complex and moody? Hello, garam masala. A little unpredictable with floral undertones? Ras el hanout has your name on it.
So the next time you twist open that jar and inhale, know this: you’re not just seasoning your food. You’re invoking history. You’re performing an act of culinary magic. You’re conjuring flavor from time.
And in a world starved for depth, that might be the most delicious rebellion of all.
When it comes to culinary adventures, Japanese cuisine has to have a place on everyone’s list for obvious reasons. Go on a food tour in any city around the world and you will stumble upon ramen shops and Osaka-style izakayas in the unlikeliest of places. Japanese food is simply that good to warrant almost a widespread presence. However, die-hard fans looking for an authentic gastronomic fix might not get the best of what original Japanese flavors provide.
That’s not to say you can’t find a restaurant that serves teppanyaki that’s close to the original that locals enjoy. You just have to know how to make your Japanese culinary adventure worth the time, money, and effort you spend. Whether or not you’re a true-blue foodie, it matters to know how to elevate your experience in ways that no other casual diner could ever attain. Here are a few tips you might want to keep in mind:
1. Understand what makes Japanese cuisine so great
You can never be a true fan of Japanese food if you don’t know the elements that make it distinct from the cuisine of other countries. Many would assume that menu options contain a certain spiciness but they are more diverse than you think. Japanese food covers a wide range of flavor profiles that create a harmonious balance which includes a unique flavor known as umami.
Much of the cuisine’s distinct flavors are from certain ingredients such as mirin which is often used for dipping sauces and as an essential component of ramen broth. What’s more, Japanese cuisine heavily uses vegetables, soy sauce, and other components like wasabi to round out the flavors of each meal. You don’t need to be a culinary expert to love the food but knowing all this encourages you to dig deeper into what makes it special.
2. Learn about regional culinary traditions and cooking styles
You must know how your favorite Japanese meals are prepared to learn how different restaurants serve the same dish. Traditional food preparation focuses heavily on steaming, grilling, simmering, and deep frying on top of sashimi which involves serving raw slices of seafood paired with soy sauce and red radish.
Learning about these types of food preparation also opens you up to Japan’s culinary culture, including traditions that help preserve local flavors There’s more to Japanese food than what big cities such as Tokyo and Osaka are known for, so venture into regional culinary styles and be bold enough to try out dishes you don’t often find in well-known establishments.
3. Look for authentic restaurants near you
You don’t have to visit Japan to experience the distinct flavors it’s known for but it won’t help to visit a local Japanese restaurant that doesn’t serve anything close to such flavors either. However, you just have to be cautious around restaurants and bars boasting an eclectic menu of seasonal favorites.
The fact that they mention the word “authentic” should raise eyebrows because it could only be riding on a trend. If you’re looking for original yakitori in Los Angeles, make sure the brand uses ingredients sourced from Japan and has a presence in the country.
4. Don’t forget about the drinks!
The best thing about Japanese food is that you need to pair each dish with the right type of beverage. Some menu items such as karaage and sashimi are best paired with beer (either Asahi or Sapporo) while dishes like Gyudon and Okonomiyaki could be gulped down with cold soda. Wherever your feet and palate take you in your exploration of Japanese cuisine, never order a good beverage on the side.
Endnote
Japanese food is everywhere but it takes effort to get the full gastronomic experience being in Japan without having to travel there. Use this guide and go beyond what’s already familiar.
Photo by Valeria Boltneva from Pexels
Lior Lev Sercarz is a spice blender to the stars—star chefs. His clients include Eric Ripert, Michelle Bernstein, Paul Kahan, and Apollonia Poilâne. It’s a “who’s who” of culinary innovators. Even chefs who blend their spices agree: Sercarz does it better. Sercarz’s culinary education started early, as a young boy in Israel. His is not a romantic tale of old techniques and recipes. It is a story of practical cooking. His mother worked late. She left ingredients for him to make dinner for his younger siblings. As years passed, his family traveled across Europe. The wide range of cuisines and cultures they encountered honed Lior’s exceptional palate. Their experiences were as unique as a spin on Dragon Slots, where unexpected combos lead to wins.
At 19, Sercarz joined the Israeli army, where he was charged with kitchen duty. He learned the simple but indispensable purpose of “food as satisfaction.” After leaving the army, he traveled to South America. He became interested in finding the source of food traditions. The spice trade sparked his curiosity. This was due to the lack of industrialization in the creation of spices.
Lior’s love for hand-harvested spices grew during his time at the Institut Paul Bocuse in Lyon, France. His externship, especially with Olivier Roellinger, inspired it. Roellinger is a three-star Michelin chef known for his spices and blends. From there, Sercarz moved on to New York’s Daniel. There, he experimented with spice blends and built a vast spice rack. This inspired his current business, La Boîte à Épices.
Sercarz has 41 signature spice blends and 30 extra ones for chefs. He seeks not to mimic a flavor but to evoke a memory of a specific place. For example, his “Cancale” is named for the town where he trained with Roellinger. It uses the region’s signature fleur de sel, orange peel, and fennel seeds from the cliffs of Brittany.
ICE recreational students enjoyed a cooking class. It celebrated Sercarz’s first cookbook, The Art of Blending. They discovered twelve of his multi-sensory spices, including Cancale. Like his spices, this book evokes emotion. It has vivid pictures and anecdotes about many flavors and cultures. Sercarz’s celebrity clients are chefs. They use his spice blends in recipes for soups, sweets, smoked fish, and cocktails.
Sercarz is a highly skilled chef. He produced fourteen dishes that night. They were impressive. Yet his instruction was far from heavy-handed. As he explained to the class, he does not care how people choose to use his spices.
He respects each person’s creativity and choice of how to use his blends. That said, the drive to publish this cookbook came from his non-chef clients. They often asked for recipe suggestions. He believes the cookbook stands alone. It doesn’t need to own the spice blends in the recipes.
It was in sitting down to enjoy our spiced feast that we were able to appreciate Sercarz’s unique perspective the most. He diagnosed ignorance in our treatment of spices. They are like meat or vegetables. There is seasonality, labor, and a variance in quality. His blends range from 9 to 23 ingredients and can take as little as one day or six months to create. Each blend gets meticulous attention to detail. It shows a deep understanding of his raw ingredients. From the choice of salt and heat to the unusual flavors, no decision goes unweighed. It gives Sercarz’s products an unmatched complexity. His spice blends are a pleasure to work with—for all five senses.
Conclusion
Lior Lev Sercarz has carved a unique and unparalleled niche in the world of spices. Sercarz, through his craft and attention to detail, has elevated spice blending to an art. He has a deep appreciation for the raw ingredients. Lior Lev Sercarz’s journey began as a young boy cooking for his siblings in Israel. Today, he’s a world-famous spice blender for top chefs. His passion for flavor knows no bounds. It blends tastes from around the globe. Sercarz invites us to explore the vibrant world of spices. He does this through his spice blends and cookbook, The Art of Blending. His blends inspire experimentation and recall distant places. They appeal to both professional chefs and home cooks. Every sprinkle of his blends tells a story. It shows his dedication to making the ordinary extraordinary.
