SpiceLines

On Newbury Street, Angus and I joined the crowd at Georgetown Cupcake. We all wanted something sweet, a little bite of life-changing happiness.

Pretty pink boxes and a girl wearing pearls—so chic amongst dark winter coats and boots.

And oh, the cupcakes, especially Caramel Praline Crunch (farthest left in the photo)—billowy frosting, soft as whipped cream, dusted with crushed praline. Let’s not forget the moist and tender cake, with an oozy filling of, be still my heart, rich, gooey caramel.

Rx for the winter blahs!

A block or two on, I screeched to a stop at the sight of Valentino’s rose-colored ball gown. Visions of a summer night, wafting down a spiral staircase, a long strand of baroque pearls, the pop of a champagne cork. Sigh...

But at Formaggio Kitchen in Cambridge, there was an easier fix for a dark day: bounteous buckets of bright blossoms. I especially loved these hot house tulips.

What else might cure the winter blues?

A taste of creamy Comte Fort Saint Antoine, from the milk of cows that graze on wild dandelions in the Jura region of southeastern France, could dazzle a palate craving flavor. As could a well-aged, nutty Manchego....

...paired with a spoonful of tawny honey from Corsica. Harvested from bees wobbly with nectar, a sticky drizzle tasting of flowering broom, asphodel, and sun-loving plants of the shrubby maquis on the rocky isle where Napoleon was born.

How about a basket of golden quince to perfume a cold, gray room? Its fruity scent was redolent of warm fall days and pots of jam on a sunny windowsill. But I was thinking of duck breasts brushed with pomegranate molasses and sliced quince stewed with star anise and cinnamon…

Which brings us to the spice shelf…

There's nothing like sun-dried Turkish peppers—urfa, maras and Aleppo—to infuse cold weather dishes with warm and sultry flavors.

Into my basket went new must-have treasures: white Turkish poppy seed; sahlep, a flour made from orchid tubers that's used in Middle Eastern desserts and drinks; rare sumac molasses, sold in tiny glass vials, for drizzling over winter bulgur salads....

...along with a pinch of precious Iranian saffron; a fragrant nosegay of Sicilian oregano; and rosso peppercorns, incendiary whole pepper, very slightly smoked, a glorious addition to all those warm braised dishes we want on grey shivery days.

On the way out, we did stop to smell the roses.

Oh, is that the sun peeking through the clouds?