The Basics: Flower of Salt (aka Flor de Sal)

Considering it's one of the simplest and most common culinary ingredients, salt is a surprisingly complex subject. Contributor Jim Dixon of Real Good Food gives some background.

I started importing flor de sal when I realized that everything I ate was drizzled with olive oil and sprinkled with coarse salt. I had, and still have, a French-made Peugeot cast aluminum salt grinder (salt mills must have ceramic grinders so they don't corrode; pepper mills have metal grinders). I'd fill it with chunks of traditional sea salt and grind some over my food after I'd anointed it with oil.

Salt ponds in the Algarve region of Portugal.

Then, almost 15 years ago, I read Corby Kummer's article in the Atlantic. Kummer described a culinary salt journey much like mine, moving from the hard square crystals of refined table salt to the pyramind-shaped flakes of kosher salt to the softer, more nuanced, flavor-enhancing qualities of traditional sea salt. He swooned over fleur de sel, the light gray sea salt from the marshes of Brittany, even if the price gave him sticker shock. But he'd just discovered something better, flor de sal, Portuguese flower of salt from the hot, sunny Atlantic coast called the Algarve.

It took me about a year to get my first bags of flor de sal from the idealistic young marine biologists who started Necton, the company that harvests salt the way the Romans did when they lived along the same coast. All it takes to make flor de sal are the sun, the sea and somebody to skim the delicate crystals from the water after they start to bloom. Flaky salts like Maldon and Jacobsen come from boiling the sea water over gas fires until most of the water evaporates.

Only about 10% of the salt in the salina is available as flor de sal. As the crystals grow, they sink to the bottom and are raked out as traditional sea salt. The larger crystals can be used for cooking, where they dissolve, or are ground into fine sea salt.

We keep a few bowls of flor de sal in the kitchen so it's easy to grab a pinch. Fingers are the best way to add salt, too; bacteria can't grow on the salt (except on the ocean floor near a volcanic vent). And everything I eat gets a drizzle of olive oil and a few crystals of flor de sal.

Why Not Kosher Salt?

Diamond Crystal kosher salt, the most widely used brand, is made by Cargill. For me, that's enough reason not to use it. I'd rather my food dollars went to companies, big or small, that share my values about corporate responsibility, environmental protection and eating real food.

But sea salt harvested specifically for using with food also tastes better. More than 90% of the salt produced around the world is destined for industrial uses, everything from making PVC pipe to de-icing roads. And most industrial users want pure sodium chloride, NaCl. Salt mined from the earth, all of which came from prehistoric oceans, can be nearly 99% sodium chloride. Large producers of sea salt that use evaporative ponds can drain excess brine while the salt crystals are forming, washing away the trace elements found in sea water.

The relative handful of sea salt producers who only make culinary salt allow the sea water to evaporate completely, so all of the magnesium, calcium, potassium and other trace elements found in the ocean stay in the salt. Sea salt can be less than 90% sodium chloride, and the presence of the trace elements buffers the natural bitterness of pure salt. Try this: fry two eggs (in olive oil, of course), then salt one with kosher or table salt and other with a good sea salt or flor de sal. You can taste the difference.

Top photo from Wikimedia. Photo of Algarve salt beds from Jim Dixon.

The Basics: Strata

It's become a Sunday morning tradition around here. After Will Shortz has his way with a listener on the puzzle segment of NPR's Weekend Edition Sunday, Dave starts puttering around the kitchen making breakfast. Sometimes it's as simple as his fabulous cheese omelets,  other times he's got some sourdough left over from bread baking to use for biscuits or even waffles. I know that whatever it is, it's going to be delicious and I try to be appropriately appreciative.

My recipe box, broken cover and all.

But on Christmas Day a few weeks ago, falling as it did on a Sunday, I wanted to let him off the hook regarding breakfast. I pondered the usual suspects…a frittata, pancakes, coffee cake…and then remembered strata, which I hadn't made for years. I pulled out my trusty old recipe box and found the stained index card right there in the Eggs and Cheese section.

Dead easy, this cheater's souffle consists of bread, eggs, milk and cheese and whatever other ingredients you want to add. Usually, in our case, this means mushrooms and bacon, but can include herbs, kale, tomatoes, asparagus, ham or other meat or seafood.

Fortunately this cogitating was happening a day ahead, since strata really needs to be assembled the night before, with the bread spending all night absorbing the custardy goodness of the eggs and milk in order to achieve its utmost loveliness. So I dashed to the store, splurged on some chanterelle mushrooms that would go nicely with the last of the bacon from Roger and got a few pieces of fruit for a salad.

After popping it in the oven the next morning, it bubbled away while we dug into our stockings. (And yes, we still do stockings around here…how else can you surprise someone with that DVD they've been ogling online?) And I think Dave was pleased that Santa had thought to make breakfast for him for a change.

Bacon, Cheese and Chanterelle Strata

3-4 c. bread, cut in 1/2" cubes (remove crusts only if you want)
1/2 lb. sharp cheddar or other cheese, grated
1/2 lb. bacon, cut in 1/4" strips
1/4 c. butter or margarine, melted
1/2 lb. mushrooms, chopped
3 eggs
2 c. milk
1 tsp. Dijon mustard
1/2 tsp. salt

The day before baking, sauté bacon until fat begins to render. Add chopped mushrooms and sauté till mushrooms get limp. Remove from heat and cool. Beat eggs, milk, mustard and salt in a small mixing bowl. In a medium casserole dish (I used my small Le Creuset casserole), place half the bread cubes, topped with half the meat and mushroom mixture, half the cheese and half the melted butter. Repeat with another layer of the remaining bread cubes, meat mixture, cheese and butter. Pour the egg mixture over the top. You can add a little more milk if it seems too dry, but go easy—the bread shouldn't be swimming in liquid. Cover with plastic wrap and place in refrigerator overnight to soak.

The next morning, preheat the oven to 300°. Place the casserole in a larger pan with about 3/4" of hot water (I used my 9" by 12" Pyrex baking dish) and place those in the oven. Bake for 90 minutes.

Read more recipes in The Basics series: 20 Minute Tomato Sauce, House Vinaigrette, Chile Sauce and Caesar Salad.

The Basics: Caesar Salad

Salads rock. From a classic potato salad that is almost a meal in itself, to a fruit salad like a Waldorf, to the signature radicchio salad served at Nostrana, I love them all. And don't get me started on salads made with beans, pasta or grains or we'll be here all night. Crisp, fresh and crunchy, they can cleanse your palate or fill your stomach.

My all-time favorite, though, has to be the Caesar, with its creamy, deep flavor from the emulsification of oil, egg, lemon, garlic and anchovy. For me, the definitive version was the one served at Zefiro in Northwest Portland in the 90s. The spears of romaine were left whole and diners were encouraged to pick up the leaves with their fingers, always a plus in my book.

I've had awful versions, too, both in restaurants and in the bottled dressings, some of which bear no resemblance to the classic recipe. My friend Kim makes a fabulously lemony Caesar, crushing the garlic cloves and mixing the other ingredients by hand in a salad bowl before tossing it with the lettuce and parmesan.

But my day-to-day recipe comes from the old Silver Palate Cookbook and is made in about five minutes in a food processor. Plus it easily makes enough for a week's worth of salads and can double as a dip for crudités if friends drop over for a glass of wine.

Garlic-Anchovy Dressing
Adapted from The Silver Palate Cookbook by Julie Rosso and Sheila Lukins

3-4 anchovy fillets
1-2 garlic cloves
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
1 egg yolk
1/4 c. red wine vinegar or lemon juice
Salt and freshly ground black pepper, to taste
1 c. olive oil

Put all ingredients except salt, pepper and olive oil in the bowl of a food processor and pulse to combine. Then process, adding olive oil in a thin stream until the dressing becomes creamy. Add salt and pepper to taste. Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to one week.

Read more recipes in The Basics series: 20 Minute Tomato Sauce, House Vinaigrette, Chile Sauce and Strata.

The Basics: Chile Sauce

Garret Dillahunt is an actor I first noticed in the TV series "Deadwood." He played Jack McCall, the man who killed Buffalo Bill. He was also another minor, slightly crazed character named Francis Wolcott. In the same series.

Now, it took me a little while to recognize him in the second role, but eventually I got it. And now I see him all the time in character roles here and there. He's not shiny, but he does a workmanlike job in the parts he gets.

And that's an apt metaphor for the way I cook. I have basic recipes that appear over and over again, slightly tweaked for different uses, but staying pretty much the same from incarnation to incarnation.

For instance, the chile sauce recipe I used for turkey enchiladas after Thanksgiving made more than I needed for the recipe, so I froze the remainder for another use. It could have made another great pan of enchiladas when I had some leftover roast chicken. And it's fabulous for huevos rancheros, drizzled over the layered tortilla, black beans, cheese and egg. But when I found big hunks of chuck roast on sale at the store, all I had to do was mix the leftover sauce with some puréed tomatoes to make a wonderful braising sauce for a batch of chili.

That may have been the same night we saw Mr. Dillahunt in a rerun of NYPD Blue.

Beef Chili

I used to make chili with beans and meat, but in the last couple of years I've become a convert to the all-meat version. I serve it with bowls of warmed kidney beans and rice alongside, as well as some chopped raw onions and grated cheese.

For the sauce:
6 dried ancho chiles, seeded and torn into pieces
2 small hot red chiles, seeded and torn into pieces (optional)
3 1/2 c. boiling water
2 bay leaves
1 Tbsp. cumin seeds
2 Tbsp. (6-8) garlic cloves
4 tsp. oregano
3 Tbsp. paprika (I use 1 Tbsp. smoked Spanish pimenton and 2 Tbsp. regular paprika)
1 Tbsp. sugar
1 Tbsp. salt
1 28-oz. can whole tomatoes, puréed

For the chili:
2 Tbsp. olive oil
3-4 lbs. chuck roast, cut in 3/4" cubes
1/2 c. flour
Salt and pepper

Place the torn chiles in a heat-proof bowl and pour the boiling water over them. Soak for 30 min. until they are soft and pliable. Drain them, reserving the soaking water, and place them in the bowl of a food processor or blender. Add remaining ingredients and 1/2 c. soaking liquid and process till smooth, gradually adding the rest of the soaking water. If you have a larger processor, add the pureed tomatoes or simply stir them together with the chile sauce in a large mixing bowl.

Add salt and pepper to the flour in a small mixing bowl. Heat oil in large Dutch oven over medium high heat. In batches, put the pieces of meat in the flour mixture to coat lightly, then brown them in the hot oil, making sure that the pieces are not crowded or they'll steam instead of browning. Remove to a plate and brown the next batch. When all the meat is browned, put it back in the Dutch oven with enough chile sauce to almost cover and simmer for 1 1/2 to 2 hours. Freeze any leftover sauce for later.

Read more recipes in The Basics series: 20 Minute Tomato Sauce, House Vinaigrette, Caesar Salad and Strata. 

The Basics: House Vinaigrette

I've often thought of salad as something to fill that spot in a menu that calls for something green, as in "protein, starch, green vegetable." It's perfect for a dinner party, since it takes almost no prep other than tearing up leaves in a bowl, drizzling a bit of olive oil and vinegar and sprinkling some salt. Done.

Though there are those times when I'll get a hankering for a salad of radicchio with a creamy Caesar-like dressing, or the classic Caesar itself with spears of crunchy romaine. But the go-to dressing around here is a simple mustard vinaigrette that takes all of five minutes to toss together and gets raves every time. (Just don't let anyone see how easy it is.)

Simple Mustard Vinaigrette

1/2 c. olive oil
1/4 c. lemon juice
1 Tbsp. Dijon mustard
1 clove garlic, crushed
1/2 tsp. dried oregano
Salt and pepper to taste

Take any tightly lidded container (I often use a leftover [clean] salsa container), put all the ingredients into it, put on the lid and shake like the dickens over the sink, in case, as once happened, the lid wasn't as tight as I thought and I ended up dressing the kitchen instead of the salad.

Read more recipes in The Basics series: 20 Minute Tomato Sauce, Chile Sauce, Caesar Salad and Strata.

The Basics: 20 Minute Tomato Sauce

I've said before that there are recipes I go back to again and again, classic family dishes that I can make almost without thinking about them. Like fruit crisp or carbonara. Not that they're perfect, or the quintessential example of the form but, darn it, we like them.

The sofrito.

One is my version of an Italian marinara, or tomato sauce, that I call "20 Minute Tomato Sauce" because it's easy to put together and can be consumed almost immediately over pasta. Or you can simmer it all day and have a rich, textured sauce for pasta or lasagne, or even use it as a braising sauce for pot roast.

Starting to simmer.

This one I made with a pound of spicy Italian sausage thrown in, a favorite with my guys, but it's great with no meat at all. Or if there's some leftover roast in the fridge you can turn it into what we call "Meaty Meat Sauce." It's the beauty of these recipes, really. They're adaptable to what's on hand, easy to pull together and totally delicious.

20 Minute Tomato Sauce

2 Tbsp. olive oil
1 onion, chopped fine
3-4 cloves garlic
1 carrot, chopped fine
2 ribs celery, chopped fine
1 1/2 Tbsp. oregano
2 tsp. basil
3/4 tsp. thyme
2 28-oz. cans plum tomatoes, puréed in food processor
1 6-oz. can tomato paste
2 c. red wine

Sauté onion, garlic, carrot and celery in large Dutch oven (I use my 25-year-old Revereware pan) for about 8 min. or until onion is transparent and carrots are tender. Add spices and stir to warm. Add pureed tomatoes, tomato paste and wine. Simmer as long as you like, from one hour to all day. And, of course, it's terrific the next day or the next week.

Options: Sausage, browned and broken up, as mentioned above. Or, for a little heat, sauté a couple of whole red chiles with the vegetables and remove before serving. This recipe is completely flexible and virtually indestructible, so have at it.

Read more recipes in The Basics series: House Vinaigrette, Chile Sauce, Caesar Salad and Strata.