Maybe you saw this article in the NYTimes this week in the dining section.
If you didn’t, it’s worth a look. It’s by the inestimable Harold McGee, lord of all things sciencey in the kitchen.
It’s about salt.
And, it was a reminder that while salt is readily available at the store around the corner from Kiss My Grits HQ, there is something awesome about going to the beach, collecting, and making your own. It’s simple enough (find a deposit on a local beach, collect it, dilute it, filter it, and then bake it, and then there you have it), and it’s a great excuse to spend a gorgeous, sunny Sunday at the beach.
Friends were gathered.
And off we went.
And sometimes, California can really knock you the fuck out.
And charm you like nobody’s business.
And you realize that we are particularly and wonderfully driven by our appetites here.
Then you go a bit further, and find a new thing. A new wonder. A new surprise. I’ve driven past Fort Ross elebenty bajillion times and never stopped. Never knew that it was a Russian settlement from the 19th century. Never knew that it had four lovingly restored buildings that are available for exploration.
And you find a place to spread your blanket and have lunch of bread, cheese, fruit, and other bits of deliciousness, all produced by within a 100 miles of where you are, *right that instant*. And the view is astonishing, and reminds you how privileged you are just to be there.
And you get to see things you don’t normally see. Like whales (which I’m glad I wasn’t paying attention to my camera for). And this:
And while you don’t find any salt deposits, because it’s too early in the season, or you are in the wrong place, or whatever, you don’t care. Because this is a day that wouldn’t be traded for anything.
Because it came with this face:
And you have your reminders.