Virtuoso Life - March/April 2008 - (Page 72) GLOBAL GOURMET return trip to England. Saddle-shaped, it surrounds two shallow ponds that rise during the rainy season and slowly dry throughout the spring, leaving white rings of fine salt around the borders and a hard salt pan along the bottom. One man, Henry White, continues the traditional harvest. He rakes the edges of the ponds, dries the salt on wooden boards, stores it in a simple hut, and sells it to the occasional passing yacht. The Crown owns the island and continues to collect one bag of salt from its last remaining year-round resident as annual rent. I bought my bag of salt as a souvenir, but its flaky texture and bracing sea flavor brought all my dishes to life and taught me a valuable lesson: Salt matters. No sooner did I learn that lesson, however, than I ran out of the salt. When I went back to using Morton Salt, everything tasted flat. Why? Partly it was the trace minerals in that freshly evaporated seawater. But much of the deliciousness came from the texture. Regular table salt is mined and then mechanically pulverized into tiny, uniform cubes that give food a one-dimensional saltiness. But if left to evaporate naturally in shallow ponds, seawater leaves behind whisperingly fragile, hollow pyramids of salt. These flakes toy with your tongue in delightful and coy ways. Because they have such a high percentage of surface area, they give a waifish crunch and a strong salt hit as they meld with your taste buds, yet also disappear before they overstay their welcome, as cubical crystals often do. It’s a roller coaster full of peaks and valleys, always surprising and refreshing. A few months ago, I returned to Salt Island and bought every bag of salt I could carry, stuffing a spare duffel bag – and raising a few eyebrows in customs. Now a small pottery bowl sits permanently on my table, holding the essence of the Caribbean Sea. And I am its supplicant, one pinch at a time. Finishing touches (from left): Murray River, Cyprus black lava, and fleur de sel. KNOW YOUR SALTS All edible salt is sodium chloride. The different crystal structures, along with any lingering trace minerals or microorganisms, account for the wide variability in performance and flavor. Table salt comes in the familiar tiny granules, about as satisfying as sand. For cooking, however, it’s fine. Avoid salt with anticaking additives such as magnesium carbonate, which can leave an unpleasant, hard taste. Most people don’t need iodine in salt unless they never eat seafood or sea vegetables. Coarse salts, including kosher, come in large cubes too chunky for most table uses but excellent for dry rubs or for forming a protective and crunchy crust around baked fish. Flake salts, produced by slow evaporation in shallow salt ponds or pans, are the most expensive and interesting. Sometimes called “finishing salts,” they should be used only to season a dish at table, rather than for cooking. Herewith, some of the world’s most distinct. 72 V I RT U O S O L I F E PHOTO CREDIT
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