My wife is home in bed today; she’s injured her back (probably from heavy-duty gardening and lifting stones on the long “planting” week-end).

I decided to microwave some Smoke brand smoked basmati rice. If you’ve never ordered anything from this wonderful company, you’re missing an amazing treat. Everything they make is out of this world, although our three favorites are the smoked Malabar pepper, the smoked garlic, and the smoked basmati rice.

I decided to make the rice early so that it could cool off and dry a little by dinnertime; perfect for use in “Lim Fried Rice” (the secret family recipe from my friend and internationally renown professional photographer, Philip Lim).

As the rice began cooking in the microwave, the house became filled with the smell of hardwood smoke. The Smoke people don’t fool around; everything is genuine hardwood-smoked, not sloshed around in some smoke extract.

My wife’s panicked yelling from the upstairs bedroom brought me to the foot of the stairs in a rush. “I smell smoke!”, she screamed. “Is the house on fire?”. She came limping painfully down the stairs with an urgent look on her face. I explained the situation and she relaxed.

Now, is there any better testament to a smoked food than that. I ask you?

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