Josh Amidon

Josh Amidon I make spices people put on everything. I host comedy-trivia that draws a crowd. I tell stories people stick around for. I’ll wait.

This page is everything - plus my life after the restaurant. Name another spice-selling trivia/comedy host.

This past Saturday was my cooking demonstration at The Great New York State Fair…and you folks PACKED the room.The room ...
09/01/2026

This past Saturday was my cooking demonstration at The Great New York State Fair…and you folks PACKED the room.

The room had 150 chairs, almost every one was filled, plus another 11 people standing in the back. So, somewhere around 156 or 157 of you showed up to watch me cook.

And I genuinely could not have asked for the show to go any better. I brought exactly what you’d expect from me: chaotic, nervous, occasionally cringe energy.

I’d start telling one story, which somehow led to another story inside that story, which reminded me of a completely different story, and before long it became a Russian nesting doll of unfinished tales neither you nor I had any f@cking idea what I was saying.

But that’s the sorta show I excel in. Give me a perfectly rehearsed script and I’d probably bomb.

Give me a stove, 157 people, a microphone, several unrelated stories with no endings and a rapidly deteriorating train of thought? That’s my wheelhouse.

My demonstration didn’t start until 12:30 PM, but we had to drop everything off at 7:30am that morning before the fair opened. And I had a TON of s**t.

Six enormous storage containers filled with pots, pans, kitchen utensils and enough miscellaneous equipment that you’d think I moved my entire kitchen into the Creative Arts Center.

Not because the Fair’s demonstration kitchen wasn’t fully stocked. It was. But I’m a creature of habit and apparently, I’m the Mariah Carey of mediocre home cooking. I need MY wooden spoon and MY saucepan.

Anyway, we’re unloading everything into the back room behind the demonstration kitchen when I run into Christina, who runs the Creative Arts Center and is the person responsible for inviting me there in the first place.

I was FILLED with nerves. Not bad nerves, but excited nerves.

Unfortunately, when I get that excited and anxious, whatever part of my brain is responsible for human conversation temporarily shuts down. I interrupt people. I talk over them. I start answering questions they haven’t finished asking.

I’m not trying to be an a$$hole. My brain is just moving 14 sentences ahead of my mouth.

And when the person I’m doing this to happens to be a woman, it takes on the horrifying added bonus of sounding like I’m mansplaining absolutely everything to her.

So there I am, 7:30 in the morning, mansplaining a cooking demonstration to Christina, THE WOMAN WHO RUNS THE F@CKING BUILDING THE COOKING DEMONSTRATION IS IN.

Christina, I am so sorry. I swear, I’m not usually that much of a conversational hemorrhoid.

Cut to 11:30 AM, an hour before the show, and people were already lining up outside the doors to get in.

Joe, Sarah, the kitchen staff and I were inside setting everything up when Christina walked over and casually said, “Julie LaFave, the Director of the Great New York State Fair, is coming by to talk to you.”

Oh. Okay. That’s it. Shut it down. Pack up the pans. The jig is up. Someone finally came to their senses.

Someone had clearly done a little research, realized I was an attention seeking nightmare and now they were sending the Director of the entire New York State Fair over to shut this s**t down before I could get near a microphone. Surprised it took this long.

But that’s not what happened at all. The director introduced herself and wished me luck. She was very kind, gracious and she even said “we’re very excited to have you.”

BUT, just before she walked away, she locked eyes with me one last time and wished me luck. Her mouth said, “Good luck.” Her eyes said:

“If I get one ounce of bad press because of you, I will personally throw you off the top of the Ferris wheel and every State Fair employee will conveniently be looking in the other direction.”

To be VERY clear, her eyes absolutely did not say that. She was lovely. That’s just what anxiety translates prolonged eye contact into.

So, if you missed Saturday’s cooking demonstration and reading all of this has somehow made you think, “Yeah, I’d like to see that happen in person,” GOOD NEWS.

I’m doing it all over again this Saturday, September 5 at 5 PM at the Great New York State Fair, here's the link:

Cooking Under State Supervision 2: The State Strikes Back

And this Thursday I’ll be at Seneca Street Brew Pub in Manlius for Josh’s Jeopardy & Seasoning Show at 7 PM, but we’ll be onsite registering teams and selling spices starting at 6:30 PM.

…and who knows, maybe I’ll finally finish one of the 17 stories I started at the Fair and never found my way back to.

No promises. I’ll probably start 6 more.

If there’s one thing that sends me into an immediate, medically concerning rage, it’s hearing someone say:“There’s nothi...
08/26/2026

If there’s one thing that sends me into an immediate, medically concerning rage, it’s hearing someone say:

“There’s nothing to do in Syracuse.”

Or its equally irritating cousin:

“Central New York is boring. There’s never anything going on.”

My right eye starts twitching, a bulging vein appears in my forehead and my blood pressure immediately shoots to a number that would make any nurse take it again because…“Surely that can’t be right.”

I’ve been known to immediately pull out my phone, open the Visit Syracuse event calendar, and start scrolling through the approximately 700 things happening that week like I’m presenting evidence to a jury.

“Nothing to do, you say? Interesting. I’d like to submit Exhibits A through f*cking Q.”

That’s why, starting this past weekend, I’ve decided to turn my irritation into a new social media series:

Every weekend, I’m picking something from the Visit Syracuse event calendar, going out into Central New York to experience it for myself, and reporting back the following week with what happened and, most importantly, what kind of trouble I somehow managed to get myself into.

So, for the inaugural installment, I scrolled through the calendar and landed on something I had absolutely never done before:

Roller derby….Specifically, a Salt City Roller Derby bout in Fulton.

The first whistle hadn’t even blown yet, and I was already sold because I learned something awesome about roller derby: these women get to pick their own names.

Before the bout starts, they introduce everyone by their chosen derby names instead of their boring government names like every other sport in the world.

Some of my favorites:

- Debpool (instead of Deadpool)
- Britney Tears
- Amanda Hug N Kill

The NFL has had 100 years and somehow nobody thought of this?

The athleticism is insane. I can barely put on a sock standing up, but these women are out here playing full contact Mario Kart with their bodies.

Apparently, roller derby also has rules. I know this because occasionally a whistle blew and someone looked disappointed.

I’m not going to lie, for the first 30 minutes, I didn’t have a LICK of a clue what was going on. Luckily, I had a few friends there who gave me a quick tutorial.

There are “jammers,” “blockers” and “pivots.” I nodded along like these were words I had previously encountered in this context. Eventually, I started to somewhat keep up.

Perhaps a little too well. Because at some point, without warning, I heard myself yell:

“CUT HER OFF…LIKE THE BAD LEG ON A DIABETIC!!!”

Mary Magdalene in a miniskirt…where did that come from?!

Thirty minutes ago I didn’t know what a jammer was. Now I’m screaming for these women to send each other into different area codes.

Is this how straight men feel about football? I needed to calm myself down.

There was one woman, I’m not going to name names, because I’m pretty sure you could fold me like a fitted sheet, but I saw you throwing elbows after the whistle, girl.

I immediately gave her my own nickname: Shady Boots.

And Shady Boots, if you’re reading this, I’d like to formally offer you a position on my security detail.

I’ve got a cooking demonstration at the State Fair coming up, and I need someone to clear a path through the crowd. I also host trivia, where occasionally someone approaches me with a “Well, actually…” and starts disputing an answer.

I don’t want anyone injured. I want to be very clear about that. I just want them to look up mid-sentence, see Shady Boots barreling toward them at 17 miles per hour and suddenly decide that maybe my answer was acceptable after all.

Anyway, I left with a newfound respect for roller derby and a renewed commitment to never putting wheels on my feet.

And now that I’ve provided you with several minutes of free entertainment, I’m going to exploit your attention for personal gain.

I’ve got a ton going on this week:

Thursday 8/27 LIVE Trivia and Josh’s Traveling Spice Show | Food Truck Takeover at CNY Regional Market

Saturday 8/29 - Cooking Under State Supervision w/ Josh at The Great New York State Fair

Sunday 8/30 - Josh’s Jeopardy & Seasoning Show at Green Lakes Lanes

Apparently, we’re doing this now. This is Part II of what has become a new investigative series I’m calling:THE RONSPIRA...
08/24/2026

Apparently, we’re doing this now. This is Part II of what has become a new investigative series I’m calling:

THE RONSPIRACY: A (Potentially) True Twin Trees Too Crime Story

If you missed Part I, scroll back to the last post and check it out.

So Thursday night, I returned to Twin Trees Too to host trivia and sell spices. It was the biggest trivia crowd we’ve ever had there.

Not only did we fill the bar and bar’s dining room, but we eventually spilled over into the front dining room as well.

There were people everywhere…except, of course, Ron. Which was wonderful for trivia. Less ideal for conducting a discreet missing-person investigation.

Now, after teams register, I always walk around and greet every table. And Thursday night, table after table asked me some variation of the exact same questions:

“IS RON HERE?!” or “Did Ron finally show himself?” or “After that post, Ron HAS to be here tonight, right?”

You people arrived expecting a live episode of Dateline. And I regret to inform you… no, Ron did not show.

In fact, when I walked through the doors Thursday night, before I did literally anything productive, I asked the question that has consumed this investigation: “Where’s Ron?”

And once again, I received the official Twin Trees Too response: “Ron’s running the other store.”

At this point, the staff sounded like NPCs whose programmers forgot to give them a second response.

So I decided enough was enough. If Ron wasn’t going to show, it was time to confront Jennifer.

And by “confront,” I mean very gently ask her a question. This is Jennifer we're talking about. She could whisper, “Josh, shut the f*ck up,” and I'd probably apologize for having vocal cords.

But I needed answers. “Where’s Jennifer?”

And that's when I was informed “She’s working in the kitchen. She can’t come out.”

Likely story. Suddenly Jennifer’s “working in the kitchen” the exact night I come looking for answers? Please. I’ve listened to enough true crime podcasts to know what witness avoidance looks like.

About halfway through trivia, Jennifer finally made her appearance. She emerged from the kitchen with that big smile, gave me a hug and then placed a HUGE plate of food in front of me that she wanted me to try.

Free food… my kryptonite.

God dammit, Jennifer! Either she was trying to buy my silence, or she had poisoned the food and was attempting to “permanently transfer” me to “the other store” with Ron.

There was only one way to find out. I ate it.

Listen, my journalistic integrity is strong, but apparently it has a market value and that market value is one plate of Chicken Francaise.

But…Josh…what if it was poisoned?

Honestly, being ushered from this mortal coil with a mouthful of Twin Trees Too Chicken Francaise is about as dignified an ending as I was ever going to get.

Once I accepted Jennifer’s bribe like Mastercard, I got back to business and asked about Ron. She immediately pulled out her phone and showed me a photo of Ron that she claimed was taken just a few days ago.

First of all, Jennifer, girl…There is absolutely no way to date that photo.

Even when Congress sends out a “proof of life” photo, they at least have the decency to AI Photoshop that day’s newspaper into it, and they have the intellectual horsepower of a baked potato. Jennifer, I expected more from you.

At MINIMUM, I need Ron holding that day’s newspaper while standing next to a television showing the live Powerball numbers.

A random photo from your camera roll isn’t going to get past me, but nice try. The photo has been entered into evidence, but proof of life remains inconclusive.

This week I’ve got two trivia shows AND I’m getting ready for my cooking demonstration at the New York State Fair this Saturday, where we’ll also be selling spices.

Thursday- 8/27 LIVE Trivia + Josh’s Traveling Spice Shop at CNY Regional Market 7pm in the A Shed.

Saturday - 8/29 Cooking Under State Supervision w/ Josh at The Great New York State Fair at 12:30pm

Sunday - 8/30 Josh’s Jeopardy & Seasoning Show at Green Lakes Lanes at 4pm

The pursuit of truth will have to wait until I’m done pursuing attention and money. As always, my priorities remain impeccable.

But next week? I’m going to “the other store.”

The Ronspiracy continues…

I think I may have unearthed a conspiracy theory.And not one of those “your uncle had too much to drink at Thanksgiving ...
08/20/2026

I think I may have unearthed a conspiracy theory.

And not one of those “your uncle had too much to drink at Thanksgiving and now he’s explaining who really controls the weather” conspiracy theories.

No. This is much closer to home. This is a local conspiracy theory.

We all know I host Josh’s Jeopardy & Seasoning Show at Twin Trees Too every third Thursday of the month. I’ve been doing it since the beginning of the year.

That’s eight months of going to Twin Trees Too. And somewhere along the way, I realized something wasn’t adding up. Someone was missing.

Twin Trees Too is owned by a husband-and-wife team, Ron and Jennifer.

I know Jennifer exists. I have spoken to Jennifer. I have conducted business with Jennifer. If called before a grand jury, I am prepared to testify to the physical existence of Jennifer.

She may be genuinely the kindest, nicest, most gentle human being I have ever seen working in a restaurant. Which, frankly, only makes me more suspicious.

She never raises her voice. She never seems stressed. She just floats around Twin Trees Too speaking in this soft, soothing tone that is borderline hypnotic.

You don’t even realize it’s happening. Her voice puts you into some kind of trance where suddenly whatever Jennifer wants seems completely reasonable.

Jennifer could walk up to me and softly say, “Josh, why don’t you go ahead and put your fingerprints on this shovel for me?”

And I’d be like, “Of course, Jennifer. Do you need me to bring it out to the trunk when I’m done?”

But Ron? I have never met Ron. Not once. Every month I walk into that building and Jennifer is there. And every month, Ron is “running the other store” …supposedly.

But eight months?! How big is this other store? Does it not have doors? Is Ron trapped in there?

So naturally, I started asking questions. Last month, I went to Twin Trees Too with a mission.
I was going to get some answers.

Quietly and discreetly, I began secretly interrogating the staff.

Nothing aggressive. Just casually working Ron’s whereabouts into conversation while pretending I wasn’t actively building a case against their employer.

And everyone gave me the same answer: “He’s running the other store.”

Interesting. Almost like they’d been briefed. Everyone was toeing the company line. Everyone…except one employee.

For her protection, I will not be revealing her identity. From this point forward, she will be known only by her highly professional investigative-journalism codename: Deep Throat.

I casually asked Deep Throat when she had last seen Ron. She stopped and thought about it. And then she said the words that blew this investigation wide open:

“Gosh, it’s been forever. I can’t remember the last time I saw him.”

I rest my case. I mean, I don't have a case, but I rest it.

Is Ron actually “running the other store?” Is Ron even still with us?

Has anyone actually seen him recently? Did Jennifer send Ron to “the other store”… and by “the other store,” I mean the Great Pizza Shop in the Sky?

Listen, it’s an Italian restaurant. I’m not saying anything. I’m just saying… I watched all six seasons of The Sopranos.

I want to be extremely clear here that I am merely asking questions and making absolutely no accusations whatsoever.

If I’ve learned anything from social media, it’s this: if you say “I’m just asking questions,” I’m pretty sure legally you can say whatever the hell you want after that.

So, with that very legal protection firmly in place…has anyone checked Jennifer’s basement? What about her garden? Again…just a question.

Tonight, Josh’s Jeopardy & Seasoning Show starts at 6pm at Twin Trees Too. I’ll be there at 5:30 selling spices, registering teams, and casually checking the walk-in freezer for anything wrapped in a rug.

Oh, and between interrogations, I’ll also be selling all seven of our spice blends, including the newest, Spice Sl*t. ,An investigation doesn’t fund itself.

IMPORTANT: If you work at Twin Trees Too, nobody say a god damned word to Jennifer. As far as she knows, I still think Ron is “running the other store.”

Act normal. I’ve come too far to have this investigation compromised now.

And whatever you do, don’t mention Deep Throat.

This past weekend, I was in charge of grocery shopping.I have a theory that in every relationship, there are two differe...
08/18/2026

This past weekend, I was in charge of grocery shopping.

I have a theory that in every relationship, there are two different kinds of people:

One person is in charge of grocery shopping.

The other person is in charge of all the little emergency trips in between grocery shopping because you ran out of something, forgot something or somebody swore we had sour cream.

I am the second person.

But this past week I got promoted because Joe is getting ready for his classes to start. He’s a writing professor at a local university, which apparently means he’s too busy preparing young minds for the future to make sure we have lunch meat.

Joe grocery shops like he’s coordinating a military invasion. His list is organized by the exact order he will physically encounter every item while walking through that specific store.

I, on the other hand, do not bring a list. I wander. I let the store tell me what we need. Sometimes I don’t even know we need something until I see it and think, “Ohhhh. You should come home with me.”

This method takes twice as long and costs 37% more than when Joe shops. And before you think I made that number up for comedic purposes, I did not. Joe has done the math. Because of course he has.

This is a man whose grocery list only works if you follow his predetermined route. Cottage cheese comes after yogurt because, “If you came from the bread section like you were supposed to, you would’ve hit the yogurt first.”

Apparently, there is a correct way to walk through dairy.

Anyway, I finally make my way to self-checkout, scan my cart full of groceries and realize I forgot my AdvantEDGE Card. No big deal. I’ll just type in my cell to get the advertised sales.

Invalid number. I enter it again, and it rejects it again. I have no idea why, it’s my only number.

I don’t know Joe’s by heart, my phone is out in the car charging, and I can FEEL the growing line of impatient shoppers burning holes through the back of my skull.

There is, however, ONE other number permanently burned into my brain… my childhood landline. I figure I'll punch in my mom's number, use her account to grab the advertised sale prices and get the hell out of there.

So I punch in my mom’s number, it works. Then the screen starts asking me a bunch of questions. I don’t really read them, I just mash buttons. Finally, all the discounts come off and I look at the total.

$7.

Ummmm, no. I know I bought some things on sale, but I have almost an entire week’s worth of groceries for two people in this cart. There’s no way I accidentally Extreme Couponed my way from a full grocery cart down to seven dollars.

And that’s when it hit me. One of those questions I had blown through without reading was…“Would you like to apply your AdvantEDGE Points to this order?”

And I had hit yes.

Those were my mom’s AdvantEDGE Points. I stole money from my own mother.

Now, you would think the first thing I’d do after realizing this would be to call my mom, explain what happened and apologize.

You would be wrong…because then I’d ruin the surprise. And, more importantly, I’d ruin my ability to turn it into a story.

So Mom, if you’re reading this….surprise! I accidently stole from you.

And because my mother is notoriously behind on reading these stories, there is a very good chance that you’re finding out long before she does.

Please don’t tell her. I have content to produce.

Note To Price Chopper: Ummm...I think I just unearthed a pretty significant flaw in your self-checkout system. Apparently, all I need to steal someone’s AdvantEDGE Points is their phone number.

Anyway, you’re welcome. I assume there’s a bounty.

We have Josh’s Jeopardy & Seasoning Show this Thursday at Twin Trees Too. Trivia starts at 6 PM, but we’ll be there at 5:30 PM registering teams and selling spices.

And yes, before 47 of you message me, we WILL have Spice Sl*t for sale.

Have I actually cleared selling a spice with the word “Sl*t” in the name at Twin Trees Too? No.

But I just financially victimized my own mother at a self-checkout. You think I’m worried about Twin Trees Too’s rules?

Please don’t tell my mother OR Twin Trees Too what I’m doing.

As of the time of this writing, it’s been less than 24 hours since the launch of our newest spice blend, Spice Sl*t, and...
08/11/2026

As of the time of this writing, it’s been less than 24 hours since the launch of our newest spice blend, Spice Sl*t, and we’ve already sold through 50% of our entire inventory.

Just over 600 bottles were sold yesterday.

Apparently Central New York has been waiting its entire life for someone to put the word “sl*t” on a bottle of seasoning.

Finally, a product that reflects our values.

I’m honored to have finally addressed this critical gap in the market. Wegmans really dropped the ball on this one.

When ordering supplies and ingredients, I genuinely thought we had enough Spice Sl*t to get us through October.

Based on how our previous limited-edition blends have sold, and what you folks bought yesterday, I’m now hoping we have enough to make it through our SECOND show at the New York State Fair.

Oh. Did I forget to mention that?

There was so much interest in my upcoming State Fair cooking demo that they asked me to come back and do ANOTHER ONE.

So, here’s the schedule:

Cooking Under State Supervision w/ Josh on Saturday, August 29th at 12:30pm

Cooking Under State Supervision 2: The State Strikes Back on Saturday, September 5th at 5pm

There is a signed contract. This is important.

Because somebody at the New York State Fair still had an opportunity to stop this and instead they PUT IT IN WRITING. Such foolish people.

No take backs. The State Fair has made its bed. Now they have to sleep in it.

For the next month, I’ll be selling Spice Sl*t at my upcoming cooking shows AND at my trivia shows.

However, we need to establish some ground rules.

The New York State Fair, the Ten Pin and Twin Trees Too are respectable family establishments.

I cannot have you people walking up to the spice table in the middle of dinner yelling:

“I NEED A SL*T!”

Or worse:

“GIVE ME TWO SL*TS. ONE’S FOR MY MOTHER.”

There are children eating chicken tenders 15 feet away. So Spice Sl*t will NOT be displayed on the table with the other blends.

Think of it like the little room behind the red curtain at the old video store.

And if you’re young enough that you have absolutely no idea what I’m talking about, congratulations. My back hurts and I hate you.

Anyway...you’re going to have to ask for it.

Approach Sarah quietly. Look around to make sure nobody followed you. Lean in and say:

“I’m looking for a bottle of spice, but not one of these. I was told you keep something behind the table for people with…looser morals.”

Sarah’s a pro, she’ll know what you mean. She’ll discreetly reach under the table, retrieve the merchandise and slide it into a plain brown paper bag so no innocent children are exposed to its label.

Please tuck it under your coat and leave quietly. We appreciate your discretion during these extremely private seasoning transactions.

And your first opportunity to participate in this completely legitimate and not-at-all-suspicious seasoning transaction will be this Thursday at Josh’s Jeopardy & Seasoning Show at The Ten Pin.

Trivia starts at 7pm, registration starts at 6:30pm, and we’ll be on site with all of the spices.

One small administrative detail: Marianne, the owner of The Ten Pin, does not currently know that I created a spice called Spice Sl*t.

Marianne, if you’re reading this, I realize social media probably isn’t the ideal way to find out I’ll be selling Sl*ts under the table at your establishment.

But I think we can all agree we’re well past the permission stage of this operation.

See you Thursday!

Link to buy spices, below in comments.

NEW PRODUCT ALERT On May 22nd, I went to the grocery store to grab ingredients for dinner that night. I walked into the...
08/10/2026

NEW PRODUCT ALERT

On May 22nd, I went to the grocery store to grab ingredients for dinner that night.

I walked into the store and headed toward the tomatoes when a couple on the other side of the produce section caught my eye.

They were probably in their early to mid-50s. The woman was looking directly at me while saying something to her husband. Her husband had his hand around her wrist, he was trying to stop her from walking away.

I could see him telling her, “Don’t. Don’t go over there.” She broke free, locked eyes with me and started walking directly toward me.

As this woman marched across the produce section toward me, I studied her face. No smile, no anger, no excitement - nothing. I had no idea what I was in for.

She walked right up to me, looked me dead in the eyes and, very matter-of-factly, said:

“I’m a sl*t, just like you.”
..come again?

My entire body involuntarily recoiled backward into the tomato display. I knocked several tomatoes off the table.

Ma’am. It has been a long time since someone has hurled that word at me. I’m not sure who you’ve been talking to, but I am a married man now. I’ve settled down. I have a Costco membership.

Show some respect. I worked very hard to get those skeletons organized and back into the closet. I don’t need you coming in here trying to expose them.

She smiled and went on to explain herself…“You know, a Spice Sl*t, I have a whole cabinet full of spices, way more than I need and I’m always buying more.”

OH

Apparently, a “spice sl*t” is a person whose spice cabinet is already bursting at the seams, and yet still cannot walk past a new blend without thinking, “Well, I don’t have THAT one.”

She wasn’t exposing my past, she was describing my customers. Honestly, she was describing me.

She went on to tell me everyone on social media has a name for their followers and I should start calling all of you “Spice Sl*ts.”

I told her absolutely not. She was surprisingly persistent.

Her own husband had just tried to physically stop her from coming over and calling me a sl*t. She broke free anyway.

At this point, I was a little afraid of her.

So I did what any grown man cornered by this 55-year-old woman would do. I told her I’d think about it.

I did think about it and I’m still not calling you people Spice Sl*ts. But I did decide it was one hell of a name for a spice.

So for the last couple of months, I’ve been working on turning one of the most confusing encounters I’ve ever had into a brand-new blend.

Introducing my newest, VERY limited-edition blend: SPICE SL*T.

This blend is for the person with a completely full spice cabinet who still can’t satisfy their spice desires. Trust me, they don’t have anything like this.

Built on a buttery garlic base, it’s got a complex umami backbone with a bright, lemony finish. I even added a little tomato powder as a tribute to the innocent tomatoes that were harmed during the original incident.

With a name like Spice Sl*t, I figured it needed to be the most all-purpose and universal seasoning I’ve ever made.

This blend refuses to commit to any one food. It likes to get around and enjoys “spending time” with chicken, steak, burgers, pork, shrimp, fish, turkey, eggs, potatoes, fries, pasta, rice, pizza, vegetables…

…basically, if you’ve got something that needs a little flavor, Spice Sl*t is probably willing to go home with it.

Link to purchase is below in the comments, but we’ll also have Spice Sl*t available at our trivia shows!

Our next one is this Thursday, August 13th at the Ten Pin. Josh’s Jeopardy & Seasoning Show starts at 7 PM, but we’ll be there at 6:30 PM selling spices and registering teams.

Come for the trivia. Leave with a sl*t.

My social media feeds have been absolutely infested with sourdough influencers lately. Every third video is someone sens...
08/05/2026

My social media feeds have been absolutely infested with sourdough influencers lately. Every third video is someone sensually scoring a blob of dough with a razor blade while soft indie music plays in the background.

I'm a firm believer that if the algorithm shows me something often enough, that's not a coincidence. That's destiny.

This is a recurring problem in my life. My toxic trait is that I have the absolute audacity to watch someone who's spent 10 years mastering a craft, then think, "Yeah... I could do that just as well."

So I spend a crap ton of money on all the supplies, convince myself this is my new personality, and then discover the hobby requires patience, consistency and actual practice.

That's usually about the time everything gets shoved into a closet with the rest of my abandoned personalities.

After 17 years together, Joe has developed a survival strategy. He doesn't fight the new hobby.
He simply waits.

Because he's been in this theater before. He's bought his ticket, found his seat and knows exactly how the movie ends.

Eventually, all the supplies end up in our basement closet next the candle-making paraphernalia, the charcuterie board accessories, the epoxy resin molds, the home canning supplies and the growing museum of hobbies I was absolutely certain were going to define me as a person.

At this point, he doesn't even ask how much I spend. He just wants to know which shelf it'll be living on for the rest of eternity.

So anyway...I'm making sourdough now. I tried making my own sourdough starter and it wouldn’t activate – which in hindsight, is probably a red flag that this hobby will be ending soon…but I digress…

After my starter refused to cooperate, I figured I'd ask you folks if anyone had an established sourdough starter they were willing to share.

Within seconds, I had over a dozen people offering to give me part of their starter. That got me thinking...Every hobby seems to fall into one of two categories.

The gatekeepers. The people who guard their knowledge like it's the launch codes and answer every beginner question with, "Google it. I figured it out on my own, so should you."

The cults. The people who immediately welcome you, hand you $100 worth of supplies for free, insist you take more than you need, and somehow convince you this new hobby is the greatest decision you've ever made.

Sourdough people? They're 100% a cult. And I mean that as the highest compliment. You people are ridiculously kind.

Saturday morning at 10:00, I met Stephanie. (Hi, Stephanie! Thank you!). We agreed to meet in the Parkway parking lot. I got there early because being 15 minutes early is somehow one of my personality flaws.

I parked next to a row of pickup trucks with a handful of guys standing around, hands in pockets, pacing like we were all waiting for something.

Now, if you know anything about men, we don't usually strike up conversations with strangers. We acknowledge each other's existence with a subtle head nod, then immediately pretend the other person doesn't exist.

But I did what I do best... became nosy and got everyone talking.

One guy was meeting someone from Facebook Marketplace. Another was waiting for his ex-wife to drop off the kids for their custody exchange. Another was waiting for his buddy so they could go fishing.

Naturally, they asked me what I was waiting for.

There was a brief moment where I considered making something up…NASCAR tickets, a carburetor, my parole officer. I don’t know, something manly.

Instead, I looked this collection of rugged Central New York men dead in the eyes and proudly said..."Sourdough starter."

There was about half a second of silence. Then one guy goes, "Oh! My wife makes that." Another asked what it was. Another wanted to know how you even make bread from it.

Not a single eye roll. Not a single wisecrack. Just a bunch of dudes standing in a parking lot, genuinely interested in fermented flour.

At one point, someone mentioned a smoker and the conversation drifted to men talking about their meat.

Eventually Stephanie pulled in. And she didn't just bring me a piece of her sourdough starter. She showed up with two homemade loaves of sourdough bread. One was a beautiful Rosemary Tuscan loaf.

But the other one...She made a Chicken Riggie Sourdough using my Riggie Stardust seasoning.

I'm not kidding, there were actual chunks of chicken, peppers, and onions baked throughout the loaf. Honestly...It was one of the coolest gifts I've received in a long time.

As a thank you, I gave her the very first bottle of my newest spice blend – it should be released next week. Fair warning... the name of the blend is not safe for work.

Tomorrow, Thursday, I'll be at trivia at Seneca Street Brew Pub for Josh’s Jeopardy & Seasoning Show.

We'll be there at 6:30 PM selling spices and registering teams - trivia kicks off at 7:00 PM.

Address

Fayetteville, NY

Opening Hours

Monday 11am - 2:30pm
3:30pm - 8pm
Tuesday 11am - 2:30pm
3:30pm - 8pm
Wednesday 11am - 2:30pm
3:30pm - 8pm
Thursday 11am - 2:30pm
3:30pm - 8pm
Friday 11am - 2:30pm
3:30pm - 8pm
Saturday 11am - 2:30pm
3:30pm - 8pm

Telephone

+13156372333

Website

Alerts

Be the first to know and let us send you an email when Josh Amidon posts news and promotions. Your email address will not be used for any other purpose, and you can unsubscribe at any time.

Shortcuts

Share