In Praise of Salt

I've never really been one for sweets. Savory was always more my bag. I don't know what it is about salt that just calls out to me. It could be because I'm Jewish, but I'm not going to start getting stereotypical here. I'm often singing the praises of sodium, and when I mentioned to my roommate, Emily, that I was thinking of writing an ode to salt for my next entry, she went ahead and wrote the following:

there once was a shaker of salt
i saw it and couldn't find fault
it made things delish
especially fish
i would not put it in a malt

I couldn't have said it better myself.



I first tasted the salty wonder of anchovies over the summer. They just get a really bad rap, much like Brussels sprouts, which I think, sadly is what took me so long to first give them a chance. I never fell for this with Brussels sprouts, but it was probably a combination of their reputation and my history with fish that kept me away. Their mere existence on a pizzeria menu is puzzling to every child; it's just beyond comprehension to a ten year old to put tiny fish fillets on an otherwise perfect piece of pizza. They're a true grown-up taste. I've grown to really, really like anchovies recently - they have a fantastic salty taste without being briny like clams and oysters. The can impart the perfect amount of salt to a dish without overpowering the rest of the ingredients with their fishiness.

I read a tragic tale not that long ago about a culinary jaunt gone horribly awry. A pot of boiling water was dropped on a foot, a painful burn the result. But the pasta Adam made just looked so good, and the ingredients were so simple and straightforward that I could almost taste it. I felt that his enjoyment was slightly (read: probably fully) compromised by the fact that he had been severely injured by the very pasta he was then supposed to enjoy. Adam himself recognized this bias. You wouldn't ask a woman who had been beaten to be on the very jury that was supposed to decide her attacker's guilt, nor would you want a food critic to review a restaurant whose chef he knew was having an affair with his wife. I think you know what I'm getting at here. So I figured I'd give it a go. The bottom line is that the simplicity of the ingredients in this dish seemed that they would impart the perfect amount of saltiness to balance with the heartiness of the pasta and the chickpeas.

Penne with Anchovies and Chickpeas (adapted from the Amateur Gourmet)



The recipe is incredibly easy, and I took Adam's suggestion to add garlic to the sauce. I just took twelve anchovies, mashed them with some salt and two medium-sized cloves of garlic with a fork. Then I added two small stalks of diced celery and the liquid from the can of chickpeas and the sauce was done. It was easy enough. Once the penne was done cooking, I drained it and put it back in the pot with the sauce, the chickpeas, a decent amount of coarsely ground pepper and some parmigianno regianno cheese. The sauce was a bit too liquidy for my taste though, so I turned the heat back on low and let the sauce cook down and thicken up, stirring pretty often. By the time the sauce was to my liking, the anchovies had disintegrated, as anchovies are wont to do, so I finely chopped another one and sprinkled it with some more grated parmigianno on top of the pasta once it was in my bowl.

When all was said and done, I really enjoyed the dish. Cooking the sauce with the pasta was definitely necessary, since it allowed the sauce to adhere to the pasta. If I hadn't done that, the sauce would have all sat idly at the bottom of the bowl - this way it gave flavor to the pasta. I'm not really sure the celery was necessary, but it didn't offend my palate in any way. The anchovies made their presence known with their salty pop, even though they were no longer visible in the sauce. The chickpeas gave the meal substance and are what ultimately made the small bowl I made for myself incredibly filling. The pasta was hearty without being complex. I would make this again in a heartbeat; it's healthy, fast and incredibly cheap to make. It's also delicious, which doesn't really hurt its case. The ingredients are so straightforward and the dish is seasoned with only salt and pepper, so you know exactly what you're getting. And if you're in the mood for something salty, this should hit the spot.

Something from Nothing

I found myself in quite the pickle a little bit earlier today. I was hungry. Not starving. Not I-haven't-eaten-since-8 a.m.-voracious, but 4-p.m.-hungry. Not hungry enough to leave the apartment on an unseasonably cool day, but hungry enough that I couldn't do much (or anything) else until my hunger was sated. I must admit something - the state of my kitchen is shameful right now. It's not that it's filthy, it's that it's understocked. I just have nothing. Alright, that might be a bit of an overstatement - I'm not really talking freshman-year-dorm-room-understocked. I have a few canned goods and a loaf of bread and some eggs. That's better than three cases of ramen (right?). These cans are mostly full of beans of various shapes, sizes and textures. As I racked my brain for ideas, I decided that I wanted something fun to eat that preferably was not labor-intensive. One among my line-up of beans was a can of Garbanzos. And then it came - epiphany.

I drained the chickpeas and laid them out in one layer over a paper towel to allow them to dry. I put them in a mixing bowl with about two teaspoons of olive oil, some cracked red pepper, garlic powder, dried basil, salt and pepper.



I spread them out over a baking sheet and placed them in the oven for 20 minutes at 350 and 15 minutes at 425. The timing will vary slightly and they should be watched carefully towards the end so that they don't burn.

In the end, I had the perfect snack. Some of them looked like Corn Nuts. Damned if I could tell you if they tasted like Corn Nuts. I've had Corn Nuts a mere once in my life, quite a few years ago, so the taste is not something to which I often find myself offering comparisons. The look is unmistakeable though:



They were simple, yet they were so many things: nutty, crunchy, spicy, healthy. That last aspect was an afterthought (I suppose a 'non-thought' is a more accurate description), but it's always a good feeling when you can shovel something into your mouth and not feel too badly about it.



They reminded me of wasabi peas with their crunch, though the flavor profile was obviously different. These would also be good with a curry spice blend or a hot and spicy blend. The combinations are likely endless. I'm not sure how these are going to hold overnight, but I am going to put them in a baggie and hope for the best.