A word about the title

Apples and ice cream happen to be two of my favorite foods. I have to be true to my roots here; there can be no rewriting of history. Sure, I love mussels and leeks and ceviche and steak tartare and all manner of adult and challenging flavors. But I have always loved apples. When I was little I'd sometimes eat three or four a day (clearly, I have never fallen for the empty promises of moderation). Nerd that I was, I spent a lot of my childhood reading, and apples are a great reading snack - you can eat them with one hand, they don't require utensils, and they make relatively little mess. My parents might beg to differ on that last, though. There has always been the problem of what to do with the core, and sometimes I would forget to dispose of it altogether. This habit has been hard to break, even as I have gotten older. My father has often stumbled on a dessicated core in one of my many reading nooks and taken this as prime evidence that I was home from school.

Ice cream has also been an old standby. My father and I were filling out a questionnaire at the gym over Thanksgiving, and one of the questions was "What is your favorite food?" I drew a blank and asked my dad. He didn't even pause before he said "ice cream." I admit, I judge people who don't care for it, and judge them harshly. People who say vanilla is their favorite flavor lose much in my estimation as well. Vanilla? Seriously? That's the best you can do? I imagine vanilla-lovers as quiet, meek types with no real opinions and a lot of empty space where their personality is supposed to be. What about fresh mint chip? Coffee? Hazelnut? Dulce de leche? Blackberry sorbet? Peanut butter cup? Come on! Live a little!

Lately I have taken to making my own ice cream, and I admit, vanilla has earned more of my respect. At Soif I would scrape the seeds of three whole vanilla beans and scald them with milk and cream before tempering in the yolks of twelve, yes 12, eggs. This I would heat carefully into a thick, golden, vanilla-flecked custard. Once cooled, I'd churn it into a mellow, silken ice cream that, I confess, even I liked. It was especially good on top of our apple crisp or served alongside our roasted figs in vanilla syrup.

But I digress! The point of this whole post was to say that while, yes, I do love apples and ice cream, there is a third food that I think might be my favorite. I'm not sure it counts as a food, actually, but without it I think I might put fork and knife down forever and lead a life of monastic asceticism. SALT. Definitely my favorite element of eating. Without salt, food would be bland bland bland, flavors would disappear into each other and never resonate on the palate. Salt changes everything! And there are almost as many flavors of salt as there are flavors of ice cream. Kosher salt is my cooking staple, sea salt lives on my table, and I simply love sprinkling bug crunchy crystals of Maldon sea salt on top of everything (thanks to Old Beks for that one). Vinegar is a close second to salt: together and in the right proportion, salt and acid take food from everyday to exceptional.

And this is the gospel according to me.