Fire, Water and Salt Contd.
Cooking spaghetti has for years made me think about fire, water and salt. On those rare occasions when I cook as directed with lots and lots of water, I think about water as the saucepan slowly fills, I think about fire as the water ever so slowly comes to a boil, I think about salt as I chuck in a handful or two. And then a few minutes later, I tip the whole lot down the drain.
Water, fire and salt have been in short supply through most of the history of cooking. Water, even if plentiful in a well or spring or river, had in general to be hauled in to the kitchen. People either had to do it themselves or they had to pay the water carrier.
Fire was just as much a problem. Through most of history (and in much of the world) it is solid fuel, hardwood for the rich, furze, dried seaweed, peat, straw, prunings, dried dung for most people. It had to be collected, hauled to the kitchen, stored, and then loaded on to the fire. Roasting and grilling were extravagant users of fuel. No wonder they were largely saved for the rich. When the European settlers got to North America they were overjoyed to see all that wood. But then the average New England household began burning an acre of woodland a year. Even the forests of the New World could not withstand the onslaught.
And salt. Well, some places had lots of salt. The Hawaiian Islands always had plenty. So did the British Isles. In fact in the nineteenth century when the British had ceased to be self sufficient in almost all their foodstuffs, they were still exporting salt from the mines in Cheshire around the world. But most places salt was scarce. Governments from India to China to many Italian states early on (that is in the first 1000 years AD) twigged that it made a great monopoly to enrich the government coffers. People skimped on salt, saving it to preserve tasty relishes, not to throw in great handfuls into water to boil their starch.
Part of the trouble was that water, fire and salt weren’t just for cooking. Water was needed for bathing, for laundry, and for numbers of industrial operations from pottery to the extraction of minerals. Fire provided heat and light and was again essential for industry. Salt ditto. The home cook had to compete with the wealthy and with industry.
And then I think about it another way. Most ancient science though the world was made of a small number of basic elements or principles, four or five. Water, fire, salt always crop up. Salt is sometimes a standin for earth. They were loaded with symbolic meanings in the ancient religions. Fire and water cleansed, fire was the sign of the supreme deity or the emperor, salt was the symbol of loyalty across much of the middle of Eurasia.
This is wandering a bit from McGee on how to cook spaghetti. But perhaps not that much. The power and the scarcity of fire and water and salt are, shall we say, not unconnected with their role in ancient philosophy, religion, and politics.
I’m happy that pipelines of natural gas and reservoirs and water pipelines snake below our cities, that salt is now essentially free being extracted for geological reserves. Even so, throwing those handfuls of salt into great pots of boiling water summons up so many ghosts that it’s something I find hard to do. And not just because my gas flickers from a propane tank and my cooking water is bought in five gallon garafons.
Salt in nature is never wasted. Years ago when open fires were still in favor I did a lot of back packing. To cook, (I was always the cook) a bucket was suspended by the bail on a triangle of forked sticks over an open fire and bed of coles. I never used much water. My wood gatherers would have mutinied. I always drained the nice salty water a few feet from the fire clearing. In the night various critters would vie for access to eat the salted dirt. One night some mountain sheep got tangled in the tent lines and brought several down so I learned not to dump it that close to the tents. As to the fire part of the equation, nobody but the cook was EVER allowed to touch, feed or stir the fire until the cooking was done. Too much fire and everything burned. Too little fire and the meal never arrived. The menu changed but every menu had fire, water, and salt.
Interesting post. You may want to read Mark Kurlansky’s Salt – a fascinating book on the role of Salt in the history of the world. I think you will like it.