FOOD FRIDAY: Rub it in the wound
Indignity Vol. 5, No. 89
FOOD FRIDAY DEP'T.
FOOD FRIDAY: The Morton Salt Is Clumping
EVERYBODY KNOWS YOU can't count on anything anymore—the Denver air traffic controllers lost radio contact with the planes for six minutes, or two minutes, the reports are conflicting, but there were 20 planes coming in silent to the world's sixth-busiest airport—but you don't really know what you've been counting on until you suddenly can't count on it. I opened a new canister of Morton Iodized Salt and went to use it and it was clumpy. It doesn't pour right.
I got another bad canister one or two canisters ago, too. That one, the salt was more seized up in lumps, so it would start pouring more or less normally and then a big chunk of salt would block the whole thing. I could jab a butter knife down in there and break the lumps and they would shatter into normal granulated salt, more or less.
This batch is just...gummy? It flows out fitfully, in blobs, like old wood glue or paste food coloring. There's not enough salt and then too much—too much in any single place, anyway.
Not to belabor the obvious but we're talking here about Morton Salt. I've spent my entire life reading the "When It Rains, It Pours" slogan off the canisters. They've been using that slogan for 111 years, to celebrate the miraculous effect of adding magnesium silicate to the salt. And yet somehow this salt is screwy.
I have a box of Diamond Crystal kosher salt by the stove, too, and a canister of fine sea salt that says it's from Aigues-Mortes, France, and somewhere up in the cupboard I have some other kind of classy sea salt, but 98 percent of the time I ignore them and grab the Morton because I know exactly what I'm going to be getting. I'm not even talking about the whole microplastics situation, where the sea salt now concentrates the goodness and the badness of the waters alike. I mean that the Morton is predictable and functional.
I can't even remember how young I was when I got the hang of pouring Morton salt into a measuring spoon so it came out even. Most of the time, now, I freehand it with decades' worth of muscle memory: a long steady pour into the opposite hand till the palm overflows, to salt the pasta water; a quick tip-out to get enough for salad dressing; a loose, unhurried sprinkle over a wok full of greens. Intentions automatically translate into results.
Except now this salt is pouring the way a hissing, sputtering faucet does when the water comes back after being shut off all day for maintenance. One pork chop in the pan gets nothing when I swing the spout over it and the next gets a clump the size of a Tic Tac. Through trial and error I've learned how to smack the bottom of the cumin jar to overcome the cumin's habit of sticking together and make it puff out the amount of cumin I want. But now I can't get the salt—the basic, everyday grocery salt—to behave. How did they screw up the salt? I broiled the pork chops and put them out for dinner for three, because the fourth was in transit from the West Coast. Later on, we remembered that the flight had connected through Denver on the way to LaGuardia. We'd switched it to that one to avoid flying into the mess at Newark.
WEATHER REVIEWS
New York City, May 15, 2025
★★ There was nothing much to notice about the fog except that it was there, non-mystical, non-picturesque, just a blur like a dirty window for a while. A group of gray-haired birdwatchers overtook and passed a roped formation of preschoolers on the path up out of the Park. Wearing the rain jacket in the humid air seemed to be about as uncomfortably warm as removing the jacket would have been uncomfortably chilly. Hours after the ground level was clear, the tops of the distant ultratalls were still snipped off. A pigeon with inflated neck feathers swaggered and gurgled after another pigeon, which seemed to be just trying to peck at things on the ground. Something sunlike shone for a moment, then faded out again. By six, the real thing had arrived, with an unfamiliarly clear blue sky showing above the treetops.
EASY LISTENING DEP'T.
HERE IS TODAY'S Indignity Morning Podcast!
Tom Scocca
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TOM SCOCCA
VISUAL CONSCIOUSNESS DEP'T.
Recent Food and Drink Experiences
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SANDWICH RECIPES DEP'T.
WE PRESENT INSTRUCTIONS in aid of the assembly of a sandwich selected from Practical Cookery; A Compilation of Principles of Cookery and Recipes and The Etiquette and Service of the Table, by the Department of Food Economics and Nutrition, Kansas State Agricultural College, published in 1921, and available at archive.org for the delectation of all.
DATE, FIG, OR PRESERVED GINGER SANDWICHES
1/2 c. dates, figs, or preserved ginger chopped fine
1/2 c. English walnut meats, chopped fine
1/2 c. cream
1 tbsp. lemon juice
Mix and spread between thin slices of buttered bread, eitlier brown or white.
CHOCOLATE SANDWICHES
Sweetened or unsweetened chocolate may be used, the latter being sweetened to taste by the addition of sugar. Melt the chocolate. Add a small amount of water and cook until smooth and glossy. Add chopped nuts or peanut butter, if desired, and spread between thin slices of buttered bread. Lady fingers or other suitable cakes may be used instead of bread.
WHIPPED-CREAM SANDWICHES
Spread between thin slices of cake a filling made of whipped cream which has been sweetened and flavored.
Candied cherries and nuts or nuts alone may be chopped and added to the whipped cream.
If you decide to prepare and attempt to enjoy a sandwich inspired by this offering, be sure to send a picture to indignity@indignity.net.
