hawaiian red sea salt
Luxury comes in many forms. Material luxury we are all familiar with, the trappings surrounding the images we see on screens and in magazines. There is the luxury of experience, such as the image of the dual bathtubs in the viagra ad. Luxury has a formula, roughly that you must get something undefined by paying more than 10x the normal market price for something. Any luxury manufacturer knows that when you try to pin down, to justify, that undefined element, that is the point when the ship is sinking and the magic is lost.
Today I went to Whole Foods for the first time in ages. There is one thing in that store that is a financial bargain, and that's the spices. I had a list from my cookbook of which spices to acquire, and our spice drawer was a sad thing indeed. Crowded, most items expired, and never opened unless in dire desperation. Being burnt out from interviews as well as having to go in on a weekend (to handle the work not accomplished while interviewing), I decided to tackle this one drawer. I knew it meant going to Whole Foods.
From my list, I circled two items where there was no point looking for the items at any other store. Those two items were truffle oil, and hawaiian red sea salt. After making off with my little baggies of spices to disappoint the people behind me in line with, I headed to the correct aisle and found the last remaining bag of this salt. $4 for approximately 1/4 cup of salt.
This salt fits the formula of being a luxury. Regular salt is 79 cents per what, a 6 cup size or so. This red salt is easily a decimal point off from that standard. However, it has that undefineable quality. A few years ago the scientists discovered a new taste center, other than sweet salty bitter and the other thing. They called it "yummy" for the absence of anything else to call it. Apparently soy sauce and balsamic vinegar have this quality. Red sea salt has as well. It is not a sharp taste, when you eat it, but quite mellow and manages to stand up to the food as the lead singer and keep some complexity under wraps so it holds your attention. The ingredients on the bag mention "sea essence" or some such nonsense. It is perfect that they do this, for a product must have that indefinable quality in order to be a true luxury.
In one scene in Lord of the Rings, both Frodo and Sam almost lose their lives for a box of salt from the shire. They did not even know what it was as they struggled to save it, but later pronounced it worthy of risking their own lives for, even if the prospect of roast chicken was remote to the point of ridicule. This is the spiritual relationship we have with these luxuries, as if our very identities were tumbling down the rocks and requiring heroic acts to maintain their presence in our lives.
The way I see it, I am delighted to pay $4 for a substance that is thrilling rather than commonplace. A thrilling wine might be $600, a thrilling hotel room even more, a thrilling handbag in the thousands. It's all in the ratios, and salt at $4 is a peasant's luxury even when sold with panache and glamour. Some luxuries are a bargain, and I would love to have more examples in this price range.