That four letter “S” word is not necessarily naughty

There’s a little bit of naughtiness in a particular four-lettered word that can be found mentioned at times in the kitchen – S A L T – there, I’ve spelt it out to you and hope I haven’t offended you.

It may well be that other four-lettered words can also be found in the kitchen, especially when the packet of rice you have been wrestling with suddenly bursts open and voila – rice all over the floor.

Scrunch, scrunch – where’s the vac?

Or when decanting olive oil from the thrifty-buy tin into a more manageable bottle – you know the deal – those testy dispenser spouts on the top of the four-litre tin are very troublesome to line-up with the narrow neck of the olive oil decanter and before you know it, glug glug, olive oil all over the draining board, and some in the bottle if you’re lucky!

Salt, you will be thrilled to know, was once stored in the most imaginative, elaborate, sometimes even gold-plated dishes or containers called salt cellars.

By a cellar I don’t mean the large room under the house where the old gym equipment, half broken push bikes and other paraphernalia resides, but a glorious, artisan glass, or silver, or fine small porcelain dishes, elaborately decorated with motifs of the sea that are a shell or a scallop-shell shape.

I can recall a silver set, on tiny curved legs, with neoclassical lines and a vivid blue glass inserts, which would be brought out for special occasions, but lived most of its life in the leadlight display cupboard with other equally fine and impractical ornaments.

Since Roman times a receptacle, usually made from silver, known as the salinum had ceremonial importance as it was the container of salt, from which an offering was made during the meal, but then also used to dispense salt to the diners.

By the Middle Ages, very elaborate salt cellars – indeed called “master” salt cellars – would be placed at the head of the table. It was a mark of status and prosperity, as salt was an expensive commodity. Smaller cellars would be placed conveniently for each of the diners to share, and this also indicated the pecking order of the guests. The closer you were seated to the “master” cellar, well, the higher the regard your host had for you.

The expensive silver and gold cellars were made more affordable with the introduction in the late 18th, early 19th centuries of electroplated and pressed glass cellars, but it wasn’t until some bright spark added anti-caking agents to salt, so that it could flow easily that salt shakers began to appear on dining tables.

In the kitchen, a salt pig – yes, a truly delightful term – would adorn the bench for handy access by the cook. Usually made from earthenware, with a large side opening so that the cook could either reach a whole hand in to take a good pinch of salt, (or perhaps use the spoon resting at the side opening), to add to the pot.

The term “pig” comes from a Scottish or Northern English word referencing “an earthenware vessel”.

Salt become a “no no” word for all the obvious health concerns that we are still mindful of daily.

However, I’ll wager that there are some dishes, some ingredients, that only “sing” when they are carefully seasoned with salt.

I love to have little bowl of salt flakes, to sprinkle judiciously on slices of tomato on toast – yum.

And Sunday’s bacon and eggs – with no salt on the eggs just ain’t the same. As well as the flavour, I love the “crunch” of salt flakes.

I don’t ordinarily cook with any salt, so I figure dietary wise, there’s no harm in seasoning my meal. Did you know that if making a chocolate cake, or a luscious chocolate tart, the addition of a tiny sprinkle of salt actually enhances the chocolate flavour?

And when cooking pasta in a large pot of briskly boiling water, you really should salt the pasta about half-way through the cooking time.

I don’t know anyone who doesn’t enjoy some salty, spicy nuts to nibble on with a drink at the end of the day, so why not make your own. So easy to do, and you can even reduce the amount of salt in the recipe if your conscience is bothering you – a better option than tucking into a large bag of salted potato crisps!