An addendum to my salt epiphany.
Yes, opening our taste buds is what salt does, but not if it’s piled too high. (Thank you for this observation, my friend who shall remain unnamed.) Yes, salt is meant to season, lightly, not to inundate.
Someone should tell McDonalds this in their french fry preparation process. But most of us aren’t content to lightly season for the simple reason we don’t trust the salt to do its work. And so whatever influence we are trying to exert, be it Christianity, conservatism or liberalism or whatever-ism, we insist, typically, on the Morton Salt Spill strategy to get our point across.
Yes, there was a salt spill in Chicago a year or so ago.
Eleven cars were buried.
It was, as Paul Biasco observed and chronicled, “an insane amount of salt.”
We so badly need to fix the whole in our wall. Salt was never intended to pour like this out of the wall. It’s why saltshakers have such wee holes. But not being content with such small holes we form a modern Khrushchevian chorus, “We will bury you.” With the salt of us. Rather than opening up and empowering your taste buds to taste and see for yourself, rather than enhancing and allowing the full essence of the meal, or of your own essence, for that matter, we will bury you.
And when you sputter and vomit our piled high salty deposit, we will cluck our tongues and shake our heads at your lack of receptivity to our great truth.
“Salt is good,” says the Master.
But, yes, there can indeed be too much of a good thing.
Learn the art of sprinkling, the beauty of reticence, of avoiding the pile, trusting the salt to do what it’s supposed to do.
And season well.