The fleur de sel did taste distinctive, somehow more aromatic, richer and more complex than mere table salt. My palate thus engaged, from that point on I became a certifiable salt fanatic. Wherever I travel, I now buy locally harvested salt because it's one way to really experience the essence of a country or region, and a small package is easily carried home, its contents savored for many months.

Of course, not every type of salt may be worth $30 per pound, especially to a thrifty gourmand. But this plentiful mineral, consisting mainly of sodium chloride, is intrinsically valuable. Physiologically, we couldn't exist without it, as salt helps regulate the body's metabolism.

Not only does salt sustain us, it also gives life and character to
the food we eat. It is a basic component of taste, along with sweet, sour and bitter.

Throughout much of recorded history, its worth as a culinary staple was so great that it was often used as a form of payment.

In fact, the word "salt" itself comes from the Latin word salarium, meaning salary. In some parts of the world, salt was minted into coins as valuable as gold. The Greeks traded it for slaves, giving rise to the phrase "not worth his salt." Roman warriors were partially paid in the mineral, and Venice was built on revenue from the salt trade.

Salt also holds religious significance. Jesus referred to his followers as "the salt of the earth," and until recently, grains of salt were ritualistically placed on a baby's tongue during a Roman Catholic baptism. For Jews, "salt was important in practical terms... for they were originally vegetarians, and when they were allowed to eat meat, it was with the proviso that the blood had to be removed from it, which was done by salting," note co-authors Sandra Cook, Sara Slavin and Deborah Jones in their new book, Salt & Pepper.

Nowadays, this essential mineral has become quite fashionable. As with other culinary trends, we seem to be returning to the flavorful, organic origins of foodstuffs rather than the highly processed versions. Thus home cooks and professional chefs are drawing on an assortment of gourmet salts - gray, black, pink and red - whose provenance spans the globe, from Europe to Australia.

Innovators are also blending salt with algae, mixing it with herbs and even infusing it with a smoky nuance, all to bring both complexity and subtlety to every type of dish. For instance, Todd Humphries, executive chef of Martini House in St. Helena, California, makes up exotic blends of salts and spices, including a house mix of Hawaiian pink salt, cloves, allspice, juniper berries, dried ginger and black, green and Szechuan peppers. He then rubs the concoction onto a flatiron steak before grilling.

A protégé of avant-garde chef Ferrán Adria, chef Angel Palacios, who is dazzling Miamians with his version of "creative Spanish cuisine" at La Broche, begins his dégustation menu with tapas of sugar-coated pumpkin seeds sprinkled with smoked salt. He also serves salt-dusted oyster crackers filled with olive oil that burst in the mouth when eaten, and finishes a main course of rock fish over mixed fruit with sea salt. "Salt helps maintain the color, texture and aroma of cooked fruits and vegetables," Palacios says. "I like to finish raw asparagus with Maldon salt to modify the metallic taste. It enhances the sweetness of raw vegetables," he declares. Applying these tenets, salt plays a role in one of his wildly over-the-top desserts: orange marsh- mallows, salt-dusted asparagus, ice cream and Oreo cookies.

Salt, it appears, can even replace sweets. At Ferrán Adria's latest creation, Hacienda Benazuza, a hotel just outside Seville, the complimentary "good night" gesture on the pillow is not the usual chocolate, but a little bag containing salt and a hand-rolled cracker. The accompanying note explains that the hotel is "reviving an old custom of presenting guests with bread and a few grains of salt - basic foods - as a symbol of peace and welcome."

Such a wide variety and application of salt was actually the norm until the industrial era, when processed salt aided in the production of chemicals, machinery and weapons. The gastronomic community took note, and in the 1930s, Morton's capitalized on an evaporator that made salt white, fine, uniform and inexpensive. Shoppers soon became accustomed to seeing it on the supermarket shelves in just a few ways: regular or iodized (plus kosher, if you wanted to get fancy, or as "seasoned" salt from manufacturers such as Lawry's). Demand for the more expensive, hand-harvested versions nearly died off until the back-to-the-land movement that blossomed in France in the late 1980s brought renewed interest.

Despite its changing character, salt has always played a role of great importance in the kitchen.

Cooking with salt can be traced back to ancient Egypt, when it was used to dry or "cure" food, really a scientific process: Salt draws out moisture and creates an environment hostile to bacterial growth, thereby preventing food from spoiling.

Its ability to preserve foods and sustain civilizations through cold winters "has forced man to explore, to think, to work, to travel," writes Margaret Visser, a food historian, in Much Depends on Dinner. "To obtain salt, he has erected whole political and economic systems; he has fought, built, destroyed, extorted, and haggled."

Though curing was necessary in the days before refrigeration, in most corners of the world, the method is no longer the means of survival it once was. In fact, familiar cured foods, such as gravlax, prosciutto and caviar, are now delicacies rather than staples of our diets. Still, while salt today has more than 40,000 applications in arenas ranging from manufacturing to medicine, most of us believe its main function is in the kitchen.

Fortunately, salt, a natural resource, might be one of the earth's most important commodities not threatened by depletion. Salinity can even be considered problematic, at least in some places: The Murray Darling basin in New South Wales, Australia, has such a serious salt problem that the agricultural business is threatened to the tune of $65 million over the next decade. Entrepreneurs - such as Duncan Thomas, who has just launched his mined Sunsalt on the market - believe epicures can actually aid the environment by buying inland salt (Thomas' brand and others, such as Pyramid) .

Indeed, like wine, salt is known by its appellation, and its subsequent price and flavor depend on who harvests it and from what region. Sea salt, for instance, is created when ocean waters flood shallow beds along coastlines, which means that everything that is in the water also winds up in the salt. Therefore, though these salts are "raked" all over the world, including the coasts of South Africa, Sicily and South Korea, the pure sel gris and the snowflake-like fleur de sel, gathered from the pristine waters off the coast of Brittany, are perhaps the most highly prized.

For centuries, Brittany salt farmers have tended to a checkerboard of shallow pools where the seawater concentrates as it moves from clay bed to clay bed, eight in all, until the pre-salt crystals form below the water's surface. The resulting briny, large-grained crystals are so pure that they can be packaged without any processing. Salts from other areas must sometimes be heated and washed, which gives them a bright-white appearance. But Brittany sel gris has a light gray color because the ocean's signature minerals and nutrients naturally remain inside, leaving it with a high percentage of sodium chloride and minerals such as magnesium, zinc, calcium, iron and potassium. (Fleur de sel, though, comes from the same salt beds as sel gris, but is white in color because the crystals never touch the clay but rather form on the surface of the water.)

This somewhat rare and pricey sea salt is esteemed for its complex flavor, crunchy texture and subtle aroma. Aficionados believe it not only tastes better, but because it contains none of the additives typically used in commercial brands (even generic sea salt, it should be noted), it is also healthier. Sprinkled on ripe, juicy summer tomatoes or whisked into scrambled eggs, it establishes intensely flavorful focal points. Sel gris or the more delicate fleur de sel forms a delicious crust on a piece of prime rib, makes rare steak livelier, and just a grain or two lends sparkle to oysters on the half shell. Roasting starches, such as new potatoes, while buried in salt preserves the moisture and at the same time makes the skins wrinkly and slightly crisp, and any baker will tell you it brings out the character of chocolate.

French-trained Chef Holly Peterson Mondavi became intrigued with that particular sea salt when she worked at Tantris, a Michelin three-star restaurant in Germany. The only salt used in the kitchen was that which was harvested by farmer Sylvain Le Duc from beds in La Baule, a nature preserve on the coast of Brittany. "It was the single most important ingredient in the kitchen," Peterson Mondavi recalls.

She returned to California in 1985, but on subsequent trips abroad she would lug home a couple of 25-pound buckets of sea salt. Eventually, the Napa Valley native began importing Brittany's "grey gold" from Le Duc and has been selling it under the Sea Star label since 1997. Peterson Mondavi, also an adjunct at the Culinary Institute of America where she organizes special events for many wineries, explains, "The most important element is having flavors that don't fight with the wine. Processed salt leaves a bitter, metallic flavor when paired with wine, but the flavor of pure grey salt is stunning. It is the wine-friendly salt."

Le Duc is one of only about two dozen salt farmers who still sculpt salt beds by hand. This time-honored method ensures an unsullied flavor. "Salt is an agricultural crop, just like grapes, and its profile depends on the soil and the climate," says Peterson Mondavi. "It's harvested once a year [from July to September] and the beds are sculpted and manicured the rest of the year in order to produce the best product. As in wine, less is often more, so the purest outcome is not altered."

It may not always be visible in a dish, but salt - or the lack of it - is obvious to the palate. It doesn't just add a jolt the way many spices do. Instead, it penetrates the other ingredients, drawing out juices and absorbing the water in food. It makes foodstuffs taste more like themselves, whether they are savory or sweet. Salt also makes us hungry, so we enjoy whatever we're eating more (or eat more of whatever we're eating!).

Although it is fair to say that all salts taste "salty," that quality may be the only thing the different types have in common. The variances in taste are significant - as tangible to a connoisseur as the tannin in red wine is to an enophile. At its purest, salt is 40 percent sodium and 60 percent chloride, but depending on its origin and processing, it can vary markedly in taste and texture, just as a cabernet grape grown in California will vary from one cultivated in Bordeaux.

Some salt, like fleur de sel, tastes clean and pure, almost sweet. When dissolved, it transforms back into the delicious briny water from which it was originally made. By comparison, refined table salt can taste acidic and feel sharp on the tongue. The size of the crystal, too, helps determine its descriptors - whether the taste, for example, is flat, metallic, clear, muddy, acrid or bright, any of which can be harsh to wine.

Salt is an ingredient about which chefs feel so strongly, they will even name their restaurants after it. For instance, Brittany native Cyril Renaud wanted his New York City restaurant to be a personal statement, so he named it Fleur de Sel. "Fleur de sel has been part of my life since I was a young boy," he explains. "My grandfather has gathered oysters and fish in the marshes of Noirmoutier, where fleur de sel has been harvested since the seventh century, most of his life." The exceptionally creative Renaud, whose own paintings grace the walls and menus, places a little mill of fleur de sel on every table and keeps about 20 varieties of salts in an oak chest in his dining room. "It lights up the food and makes it lively," he says.

Luke Mangan, chef-owner of the award-winning Salt restaurant in Sydney, Australia, cites salt as "a sign of hospitality, friendship and prosperity. That's what I wanted to convey in my restaurant." He offers two sea salts at the table: English Maldon to be sprinkled over meat dishes, and Ravide salt from Sicily to be used over fish dishes. He always has a selection of salt-crusted specialties on the menu, such as barramundi, salmon and rack of lamb.

For similar reasons, Melissa O'Donnell christened her restaurant in New York City's SoHo Salt.

"I looked up 'salt' in Larousse Gastronomique and read that it represents purity and simplicity, the same characteristics I wanted to emphasize in my restaurant. Salt enhances food, but doesn't manipulate it," she notes. On O'Donnell's whitewashed, communal tables sit bowls of three different salts: fleur de sel, smoked Celtic salt and grey salt. "The customers can have fun tasting the different flavors," she says.

When it comes to cooking, many chefs prefer the flavor of kosher salt or non-processed sea salt to ordinary table salt because most brands have no added chemicals or bitterness. Convenience is another factor. At Martini House, chefs salt with their fingers, not with a shaker or a measuring spoon. "Kosher or coarse sea salt is not ground as finely as table salt, so it is easy to pick up between your fingertips and control the crystals as you sprinkle them on your food," Humphries says. "You have less tendency to over-salt with coarser salt." Fleur de Sel's Renaud disagrees, though. "No one touches salt in my kitchen. It's unsanitary and leaves a taste of salt on the fingers," he asserts. Instead, Renaud prefers to pour it from specially perforated boxes of La Baleine Sea Salt.

One thing, however, is clear: Learning how to use salt, for its seasoning power as well as its textural qualities, is an important skill. "I love the mouth-feel of fleur de sel and sprinkle it on carpaccio with Perigord truffles and Nantucket Bay scallops. The smallest amount enhances all the ingredients," Humphries says.

Renaud likes to bury a lamb loin in a coarse sea-salt paste infused with pink peppercorns and bay leaves and then bake it. "It's cured and roasted at the same time," he explains. The salt absorbs steam and becomes a hard shell, sealing flavor into the meat and creating a silken texture that he compares to pastrami. Renaud even sprinkles a few grains of sea salt over all of his desserts, a practice that Salt & Pepper's co-author Cook notes is "a recent trend among chefs ... for the crunchy texture and contrast of salt and sweet. A bit of salt added to the batter for cookies, cakes and other baked goods brings out the flavor of the other ingredients and adds a tiny edge of its own flavor. Salt mitigates the sweetness and cuts the acidity of fruits such as pineapple and citrus."

The same theories hold true when it comes to pairing wines with salted dishes. Randal Caparoso, maker of Caparoso California and Oregon Pinot Noirs, notes, "Any cook knows that sugar balances salt and a food cured in salt would be matched with a sweet sauce. In the best of food and wine pairings, the fruit flavors, peppery spices and soft tannins of a Pinot Noir will complement the flavors in salty foods."

Joy Sterling, a partner at Iron Horse Vineyards, believes sparkling wines, such as her Classic Vintage Brut, are companionable with bread sticks wrapped with salt-cured prosciutto, Parmigiano tuiles (frico) or sushi. Caviar, the most luxurious of salty foods, is classically paired with bubbly, and is especially enhanced by a vibrant Blanc de Blancs. "I love to watch the award shows on television while nibbling on peanuts, salted popcorn and potato chips, and drinking one of our sparkling wines. I feel as glamorous as any star on the red carpet."

Or at least as extravagantly fed.

If it was necessity that first inspired man to cook with salt, then it is the quest for perfection that makes us continue to explore its uses. And no matter how little or much you choose to pay for that canister of gourmet salt, this precious staple is reasserting its historic role as an ingredient of tremendous value.


Sea Salt Savvy

Available in both fine crystals and coarse crystals that resemble pebbles of quartz, sea salt can be used just like ordinary table salt. But with the bewildering array of textures, tastes and even colors, how does one become sea salt savvy? To narrow the field, conduct an informal tasting by shaking a few grains on bread, boiled potatoes or sliced tomatoes. Try just a few at a time to avoid feeling overwhelmed. Also, be careful to read the label and buy only those products that are hand-harvested as opposed to machine-processed. The following types are readily available:

Sel Gris, France (also called gray salt or Celtic gray salt): From La Baule, in Brittany, where it forms on algae clay about six inches below the surface. Farmers sculpt the eight-chambered clay beds with tools called lafs from February to April, then flood the first chamber with water from nature preserves. During the next three months, the salt moves from chamber to chamber for purification purposes. After it has reached the eighth chamber and crystallized in its purest form, artisan harvesters rake the salt to the edge of each bed in July and August. The salt picks up its gray color and distinctive flavor from the healthy blue-green-hued minerals in the bed's clay bottom.

Fleur de Sel, France: Also from the coast of Brittany and long considered the Romanée-Conti of salt, it is the blooms of lacy, opaque snowflakes (or "flowers of salt") that crystallize on the surface of the water. Formed in the same beds as sel gris, fleur de sel is created only when the winds are calm and the days are warm, and tastes like it has just been collected from the clearest sparkling sea. Clean and light, it features a nice crunch and no aftertaste. Some think it has a faint aroma of violets. It readily "melts," so use sparingly on foods just before serving.

Red Alae Sea Salt, Hawaii: Once used only in religious rituals and naturally unprocessed, this salt is a mixture of volcanic clay and sea salt and is known for its russet color and earthy mineral flavor. These days, it is often highly processed and mixed with clay, which leaves it a bit harsh with an iron taste that lingers on the palate.

Black Lava Salt, Hawaii: A blend of sea salt, purified black lava and activated charcoal. It has a sulfuric aroma from the purified lava. Both lava salt and red alae salt are specialty finishing salts.

Maldon, England: Produced by panning the salt beds in Maldon, Essex, England. A good finishing salt, it gets its delicate flavor from a tradition of boiling the sea water to form hollow pyramid-shaped crystals that are soft enough to crush between your fingertips. It contains no additives, looks like tiny pieces of shaved ice and has a fresh, briny taste.

Ravida, Italy: From Sicily's west coast, these fine, moist crystals, which dissolve immediately, are extremely powerful, almost stinging on the tongue. Even a small sprinkling feels like swallowing a gallon of seawater. - CK

Salt Sources:

Bakerscatalogue.com, (800) 827-6836
Chefshop.com, (877) 337-2491
Deandeluca.com, (800) 221-7714
Earthy.com, (800) 367-4709
Napastyle.com, (866) 776-6272
Seastarseasalt.com, (888) SOS-SALT
Zingermans.com, (888) 636-8162


Salt-Crusted Beef Tenderloin Crostini with Horseradish & Chive Sauce
From Chef Holly Peterson Mondavi of Sea Star Sea Salt


2 tablespoons Sea Star sea salt
2 tablespoons freshly cracked black pepper
2 tablespoons black sesame seeds
1 pound beef tenderloin
Vegetable oil (to sear)
1 baguette, thinly sliced
2-3 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil
4 ounces crème fraîche
1-2 ounces horseradish
1 bunch chives with chive blossoms, finely sliced


Preheat oven to 350F.

Crush Sea Star sea salt and black pepper, combine with black sesame seeds and press (or roll) onto beef tenderloin. In a sauté pan, heat vegetable oil and brown tenderloin on all sides, then place in oven for about 10 minutes (check for doneness with meat thermometer). Remove from oven and cool completely.

Toast baguette slices under broiler on one side. Brush lightly with olive oil and season with Sea Star sea salt.

Whisk together crème fraîche and horseradish to taste.

Slice the tenderloin to fit on crostini. Layer crostini with horseradish crème fraîche and tenderloin, garnishing with chive blossoms and chives.

Makes 20 hors d'oeuvres

Red Sandwich
From Salt & Pepper
by Sandra Cook, Sara Slavin & Deborah Jones

1/2 cup water
1/2 cup rice vinegar
1 small red onion, thinly sliced
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, room temperature
6 slices dark rye or pumpernickel bread
3 beets, cooked, peeled and thinly sliced
6 radishes, trimmed and thinly sliced
1 to 2 tablespoons fleur de sel


In a small bowl, combine water and rice vinegar. Place the onion slices in the bowl, cover and refrigerate for about 30 minutes.

Drain the onion slices and pat dry. Butter the bread slices and layer each slice with the beets, radishes and red onion. Sprinkle generously with fleur de sel, cut in small portions and serve.

Serves 6 as an appetizer

Zucchini Pasta
From Chef Holly Peterson Mondavi of Sea Star Sea Salt

1 Meyer lemon, zest and juice
1 tablespoon and 2 teaspoons Sea Star sea salt
1 cup extra-virgin olive oil
1 cup vegetable oil
2 shallots, finely chopped
1 cup pasta shells, cooked and strained
4 small yellow zucchini, julienne
4 small green zucchini, julienne
4 tablespoons fresh dill, lightly chopped
Fresh white peppercorns, to taste


Mix together lemon juice, zest, shallots, sea salt and oils to make a vinaigrette. Pour at once over the warm pasta in a bowl and toss. Chill. Toss with the zucchini and dill. Season with pepper to taste.

Serves 6

Seared Turbot
From Chef Angel Palacios of La Broche

1 7-ounce fillet of turbot, with skin
Maldon salt crystals
Heat a non-stick pan on high. When it reaches maximum temperature, place the fish on the pan, skin side down. Sear for three minutes on each side. Remove and place on a plate. Add four Maldon salt crystals on the top for texture.

Serves 1

Salt-Baked Whole Fish
From Salt & Pepper
by Sandra Cook, Sara Slavin & Deborah Jones

1 whole striped bass, rainbow trout or other firm-fleshed white fish, 1 1/4 to 1 1/2 pounds, cleaned
4 pounds rock salt
1 lemon, sliced 1/8" thick
1 lime, sliced 1/8" thick
1 clove garlic, slivered
1 small bunch fresh cilantro


Preheat oven to 350F.

Rinse fish and pat dry; set aside. Pour half the salt into a baking dish just big enough to hold the fish. Lay half the lemon and lime slices on the salt in the center of the baking dish. Lay fish on top of the citrus slices. Fill fish cavity with garlic, cilantro, 2 lime slices and 2 lemon slices. Place remaining lemon and lime slices on top of fish (the fish does not need to be completely covered). Pour remaining salt over the fish to cover the body fully (it is not necessary for the head and tail to be completely covered).

Bake the fish for 25 to 30 minutes. To test if it is done, clean away a small portion of the salt and pierce the fish with a knife; the flesh should be firm and easy to pull away from the backbone.

Remove the baking dish from the oven and scoop off and discard the salt, lemons and limes from the top of the fish. Gently peel back the skin on the fish and discard. With a fork, loosen the meat and lift it away from the bone, placing it on a warmed dinner plate. It may pull away in several pieces. Lift out the backbone and discard. Gently lift out the remaining side of fish, removing any skin still attached, and place on a second warmed plate. Serve at once.

Serves 2

Salt-Roasted Pears with Camembert
From Salt & Pepper
by Sandra Cook, Sara Slavin & Deborah Jones

4 firm but ripe Anjou, Bartlett or Packham pears
4 pounds rock salt
2 tablespoons hazelnut liqueur
1/4 pound Camembert cheese
Freshly ground black pepper to taste


Preheat oven to 350F.

Holding a paring knife at a 45-degree angle, cut out a 1" round from the bottom of each pear. Save the rounds to cap the pears later. With a melon baller or a small spoon, remove the seeds and core. If possible, leave the stems of the pears intact for presentation.

Pour the salt into an ovenproof pot. Place the pears, stem side down, in the salt, nesting them so that they are about two-thirds covered. Place 1/2 tablespoon of the liqueur in each pear cavity. Cut the Camembert into 4 equal pieces and place 1 piece in each cavity. Replace the small round on the bottom of each pear.

Roast the pears in the oven for 1 hour. They should be browned on the outside and feel soft when lightly squeezed. If they are still too firm, return them to the oven for 10 to 15 minutes longer.

To serve, remove the pears from the salt and brush off any remaining crystals. Place each pear in a bowl or on a dessert plate, slice and serve immediately. Pass the black pepper at the table.

Serves 4





Courtesy of The Wine News

 

Food Editor Carole Kotkin is a Miami-based cooking instructor and consultant who co-authored Mmmmiami - Tempting Tropical Tastes for Home Cooks Everywhere. It provides clear, simple directions for 150 dishes, from the simple (good old Key Lime Pie) to the sublime (Coconut Mahi-Mahi with Passion Fruit Sauce). The wide array of flavors is especially wonderful and startling to those used to monocultural cooking; Miami cuisine is the product of many generations of interbreeding and hybrid vigor. Click on the link below for more details or to order.

Mmmmiami : Tempting Tropical Tastes for Cooks Everywhere