Sprawling, chaotic and wildly aromatic, Tbilisi’s Dezerter Bazaar is a maze of sensory overload, a place where whiffs of briny fresh cheeses, sour-sweet pomegranates and toasty breads slapped into tandoor-­like ovens mingle. A place where lingering too long before a stall will get you scolded by a doddering bebia buying her dinner fixings or prompt a seller to stuff your mouth with a hunk of churchkhela, Georgia’s signature candied nuts. Sometimes both. Simultaneously.

Named for deserting Red Army soldiers who once used the market to sell everything from weapons to provisions, today it occupies the heart of the city, bustling with vendors, many of whom—like those earlier renegades—seek stability in a time of political and economic turmoil in Georgia. That’s how I met Luiza Panchulidze, a refugee from Armenia.

The sign above her stall translates roughly as “Vegetable Seeds for Sale,” a charming way of saying she sells spices. She used to be a neonatal surgeon. Today, she earns more selling the seasonings that so potently transform Georgian cuisine—garlands of marigold flowers, buckets of cinnamon sticks, star anise, cumin seeds, sumac, chilies, bay and dozens of other options. Much of it is grown on her son’s farm an hour south.

I’d come to learn the spice blend that changed her life. When she came to Georgia, a woman she described as “some old grandmother” taught her to make Svanetian salt, a rich blend of coarse salt, garlic and numerous spices from Svaneti, a mountain community in northwestern Georgia. It’s used across Georgian cooking, sprinkled at the table as well as added to everything from roasted vegetables to meats and stews.

Panchulidze was so smitten with the blend, she crafted and began selling her own version, the start of her new career. She offered to make a fresh batch for me, which she assembled in a large white enamel bowl. She began with heaps of coarse salt, to which she added a shocking amount of chopped fresh garlic. Once mixed, the real seasoning began—sweet paprika, caraway seeds, chili flakes, fenugreek, coriander, celery seed, basil, dill, savory, ground bay, mint and marigold.

The resulting mix tasted herbal and savory, reminiscent of chicken bouillon. I’d go on to taste it many ways during my time in Georgia, but tossed with roasted potatoes easily was my favorite. It gave the potatoes a rich meatiness. At Milk Street, this was an easy dish to recreate.

That said, I urge you to first splash some extra-virgin olive oil on a plate, sprinkle on some of the salt blend, then dredge slabs of toasted sourdough through it. You’re welcome.