Pass the Salt

A gift is sometimes a Gateway drug.

See, we would never have even heard of Fran’s Chocolates, except our friend F. in Seattle decided that T. should have Michelle Obama’s favorite chocolates. We’ve missed a lot of the Cool Pop Culture things, being away, so we had no idea the woman had a favorite chocolate! But, Oprah knew, thus everyone knew. Anyway, T. held onto those chocolates until her manuscript was written and off to the races (w00t!), but on Thanksgiving, we broke them open, and —whoa. Fran’s Gray Salt Caramels in dark chocolate.

A gateway drug.

Salt and sweet pairings aren’t new, of course. American cuisine takes bits and pieces from all kinds of culinary traditions. Asian cuisine pairs dried fruit with salt — to make mouth-puckeringly salty/sour dried plums. I remember childhood friends sharing their licorice with me — a horribly salty-sweet Dutch treat which was, as much as anything else, an acquired taste. A Portland doughnut shop has bacon and maple donuts — savory and sweet. A slice of ice-cold watermelon with a squirt of lime and a sprinkle of salt is a traditional summer offering in many Southern states, and it’s the same in parts of Iran. Salted caramels got popular in the U.S. about ten years ago, but it’s been the going thing in France for a long time.

Our friend P. is a steak-and-potatoes guy, and claims he’s a “simple person with simple tastes.” Now that he is an avid aficionado of the Food Network, even he’s heard of gray salt. “What’s the difference between that and regular salt?” he asked us the other night. “Couldn’t you just sprinkle a bit of this” — he waved to the table salt — “on your chocolate?”

Um, maybe. But, probably not.

Curiously, gray salt, or Sel Gris de Guérande is a regular old sea salt that is gotten the usual way — but it comes from Guérande, Brittany in France, with its specific soil and mineral content. Seawater on the Guérande coast is caught in settling ponds, and then sluiced onward to clay lined salt fields. The sun and the wind evaporate the water, and it is raked up from the salt pans. This is what gives it its distinctive gray shade.

Sea salt is flaky, which gives it more surface area on the tongue, which is why people use it as a finishing salt. You’re meant to taste it, it’s meant to be more than just a part of the homogenized flavoring of a dish. When contrasted with chocolate, it really makes its presence felt.

Salted desserts are sort of the “right now” fad — the New York Times reported on the phenomenon about a year ago, remarking how what was once the provenance of chefs has turned into something you can get at Starbucks — and indeed, there’s a salted caramel chocolate drink you can get.

T. thought the dark chocolate was amazing, though she felt the salt had a citrussy taste, which confused her. D., who isn’t that fond of chocolate in general, was even impressed, although not that fond of the caramel. Both are plotting ways in which the recipe can be revised and improved — T. is getting ready to experiment with a coconut milk caramel, and D. wants to know how to smoke salt.

Gateway drug, people. It’s an addiction.