Peanut butter and ketchup. Dobro and a ruffled lavender bonnet. Kenny G and my ears.
Kittens and The Pit Of Stench.
Whenever one of us would say Zatarain’s name “normally,” the same way you might say “river” or “house,” Denise would gently correct us by saying it the right way: “Zaaaaa-ta-raaaain!” Yes, this little cutie is named for the rice, ”a New Orleans tradition since 1889.”
Since being born 120 years after his namesake rice, Zatarain has lived a sometimes-sad, always-spicy, ultimately-sweet life.