I have a smoked paprika problem. I love it. (Why don't you marry it? Pee Wee Herman might say. And really, I say, I just might.) I want to pinch my fingers around a tiny spot of vivid red-orange powder and dance it into eggs, onto rice, into soups, onto roasted pork. My baked kale chips have an extra surprise: smoked paprika. My roasted tofu glows red. My roasted vegetables have a smoky glow instead of a burnt char. All of this thanks to smoked paprika. More