Long before people chased dollars and dinars, and pesos and rupees, people chased salt. It was money. It was “salary.” And it was almost everywhere: deep in Central European mines, and crusting the sea grass in the marshes around Liverpool.
But the chefs and the master salters and priests of the day were very particular. The bay salt from France was acceptable, but nowhere near as fine as salt from the Dutch peat cutters. The original value in salt was as a preservative for aging cheese, keeping meats and vegetables, and, when necessary, mummifying a corpse. But the once noble substance slipped from exalted status. Now much of what is mined is sprinkled abundantly on icy roadways.
Guests:
Mark Kurlansky, author of “Salt: A World History.”