Some of you noticed something… unusual about our spice cabinet.
What? Is three pounds of salt a lot? It’s just that we’re setting it aside in case salt ever returns to its roots as a salary base.
Thank you! I’ll be here all week!
No, the truth is that, while three pounds of salt suggests that Andrew and I have incredibly high blood pressure, we actually eat very little salt. You see, we both brought salt to the marriage. He had salt. I had salt. We got married and had two salts. Why throw away perfectly good salt? And then this summer, we bought a farm share and Andrew got all gung ho about making pickles which apparently require uniodized salt. So we’re pretty much set for salt is what I’m saying.
But you know how salt is one of those things you never buy because a pound of salt is basically an infinite supply? So the first time you move into your own apartment, you reach for the salt and it’s not there? When Andrew moved into his first solo apartment after grad school, he emailed me to complain about the outrageous price of salt. “What are you talking about?” I typed back. “It’s, like, fifty cents a pound!”
“Well at my store it’s six dollars a pound,” he replied, to my disbelieving eyes. When I finally made it up there to visit him, I found a tiny box of Kosher sea salt in his pantry. Uniodized.