The spice catalogue.

Intensity 4/5 · Heat 2/5

Bright citrus and resinous pine arrive first, then warm wood and a heat that builds slowly rather than stinging.

Intensity 4/5 · Heat 1/5

Open the jar and it smells like grapefruit peel. People genuinely do not believe it is a peppercorn until they try it.

Intensity 4/5 · Heat 1/5

Lemon peel and pine, then the famous tingling numbness that makes chilli heat feel wider and rounder.

Intensity 3/5

The lace that grows around the nutmeg seed, dried to a coral blade. Nutmeg's character, but lighter and more floral.

Intensity 4/5

Split a pod and it is eucalyptus, lime blossom and cool sweetness — one of the most beautiful smells in any kitchen.

Intensity 3/5

Crush one and it is unmistakably gin — pine resin, citrus and cold forest air.

Intensity 4/5

Toast for ninety seconds and the whole kitchen changes. Earthy, warm and faintly citrus.

Intensity 3/5

Crack a seed between your teeth: orange peel and blossom. Nothing like the dusty ground version.

Intensity 3/5

Deep crimson and sharply fruity — acidity you can sprinkle. It does what lemon does, without the liquid.

Intensity 5/5

Whole limes boiled in brine and dried until hollow and black. Pierce one, drop it in a stew, and it perfumes everything.

Intensity 3/5

Unripe mango, dried and milled — fruity sourness that seasons without wetting the pan.

Intensity 3/5

High-curcumin and genuinely aromatic — ginger and earth, not just colour.

Intensity 4/5

Pine and camphor, sharp enough to carry through a whole tray of roast potatoes.

Intensity 5/5 · Heat 3/5

A rotating slot: whichever exceptional wild or single-lot pepper we can genuinely source that season. When a lot ends, the next one is different by design.

Intensity 3/5 · Heat 1/5

Lemon peel, dried herb and a mineral saltiness — the smell of a grill by the water.

Intensity 4/5 · Heat 3/5

Chilli, Sichuan citrus and toasted aromatics — street-stall energy in a jar.