You Eat What? (A Reprint)

Some time ago, I wrote this little ditty for Studio Thirty Plus.  I don't really feel like writing something new this weekend, and since this is new to most of you, please enjoy.  (And if you've read this already, enjoy it again.  Or don't.  But I'd prefer it if you did.  My ego is fragile.)

At the request (or rather the e-equivalent of a double dog dare) of one of my newest Wordy friends, I posted a picture of me during a fire eating show.

It's dramatic.

Go ahead.  Take a gander. I'll give you a minute.

See?  Isn’t it great?

As soon as someone finds out I'm a fire eater, the inquiries naturally begin: "How did you start eating fire?" "Why fire eating?" “Doesn’t it hurt?” and, "What does your [mom/wife] think?"

My mom still shudders, but my wife loves it. In fact, that’s part of what convinced her to marry me. (Wife. Not mom. I don’t want pronoun trouble to lead you to the wrong conclusions. Not that my mom isn’t a very handsome woman. She is. I just don’t think of her that way.)  She (wife) had just broken up with her very nice boyfriend because there was no “magic.”  Her family questioned her judgment. But fire was exactly that spark we both needed to become something better.

Fire is more than it appears. Stare into a campfire. The flames lick the air in what is really a simple chemical reaction: super heated oxygen combines with carbon to release more heat, thereby converting more carbon, until the wood turns to charcoal and ultimately, ash. Other chemical impurities provide surprises of blues and greens to the orange flames. But the physical experience of fire only adds to the spiritual. I defy anyone with a soul to stare into the fire and not be transported to a time of our most ancient ancestors and the stories they told. In short, fire is magic.

I started eating fire in 1992, but the decision to eat it was made much, much earlier. At 12 years old, I visited the Ringling Bros. Circus and I was absolutely captivated by the fire eater. Flash forward a few years, living in the mountains of Colorado, still too young to drive, a rainy day and any friends were too far away for a walking visit. (Literally—not at all contrary to popular belief, until I learned to drive, I actually did ride a horse to get around.) My mom always had a rule, “If you’re bored, I’ll find something for you to do,” which really meant chores, and since that held NO interest for me, I made a list of all the things I wanted to do in my life before I died.  Fire eating was on that list. So was wilderness survival and walking on the moon, but I’ll save those for future blogs. 

In my senior year of college at Colorado State University, my roommate, Mike, was a celebrated artist. What he was not, was a celebrated scientist. He waited until his final semester to take any courses relating to science and then he stacked three of them back to back to back. Perhaps it was kismet, perhaps serendipity, but Mike’s chemistry professor had been a fire eater for Ringling Bros. Circus for nearly 30 years. When I found out, I stalked the professor back to his office. I shared with him my story, my longing, my aching to know the art of fire eating. He, in turn, grilled me for hours (pardon the pun), making certain that I was not a pyromaniac, and that indeed I wanted to perform for audiences. When he was satisfied, he simply said, “Meet me here tomorrow. Three o’clock.”

I had no idea of what to expect, but of course, I did what he asked. On arrival, and without greeting, he handed me a brass rod, one end wrapped in asbestos cloth and stated, without ceremony, “What the audience beholds is not what is happening. When well performed, there is little risk of immolation. Instead, the audience can enjoy one act in a show about a slow poisoning over the course of decades.” He then handed me a simple drinking glass filled half way with charcoal lighter fluid. He taught me how to move, how to ignite and how to extinguish. In fact, over the course of nearly 6 months, he taught me the true secrets of fire eating: knowing how to control the flame, how to give a good show, and knowing how much pain I can withstand.  My “graduation” was in front of members of the Fort Collins Fire Department.

So there it is. That's my story about fire eating. I still eat fire regularly—or as regularly as afforded. I enjoy it immensely and I still love the interplay with an audience.  So come join me. Watch while you can. After all, I may only have a few decades left.

And just because I love you all, a recipe:

Hot Buttered Rum Mix

1 stick Butter, softened

2 cups Brown Sugar (I like the molasses in the Dark Brown)

1 teaspoon ground Cinnamon

1/2 teaspoon grated Nutmeg

1/8 teaspoon ground Cloves

1/8 teaspoon ground Allspice

1/4 teaspoon Salt (if using unsalted butter)

In a mixing bowl, cream together all of the ingredients.  Pack into an airtight food storage container and refrigerate until firm.  (It will get very firm.)  The mix will keep for months in a well-sealed container.

Hot Buttered Rum

1 1/2 tablespoons Hot Buttered Rum Mix

1 1/2 oz Rum (Most recipes call for dark rum, but this is your cocktail.  Use whatever rum you like.)

Hot Water

Cinnamon Stick or Orange Twist for garnish

In a mug, combine the mix and the rum.  Add hot water to top it off.  Stir until the mix is dissolved.  Add garnish.  Cuddle up to your sweetie, sit in front of the fireplace and lose yourself in the magic of a lovely evening.

Pass the Salt

I graduated college nearly 20 years ago.  Wow.  It seems like only yesterday.  I remember my youthfully arrogant, Bohemian ways; I remember my first tattoos; I remember the girls I dated (Hello, ladies) and the books I read.  Or more correctly, I remember reading a lot of books.  So many books.  I studied the complete works of Shakespeare, John Milton and William Blake.  I devoured Plato, Aristotle and Thomas Aquinas.  I read The Bible, The Tao Te Ching and The Rig-Veda.  I studied Updike, Vonnegut and Atwood.  In fact, I read so many books in college that I really don't like reading now.  Honest.  If you were planning on getting me books for the holidays, please don't.

In place of "reading," however, I do enjoy "research" when it strikes my fancy.  Of course, one of my favorite topics for "research" happens to be food.  And what could be more interesting right now than something as timeless and elemental as salt.  It's kind of the little black dress of the food world.

Think about it: most of what we put in our mouths is pretty disgusting.  And everything gets pretty gross once your body works it over for a bit.  So the cleanliness, the purity, virtual sterility of salt cannot go unappreciated.  Salt is the only rock we eat.  Salt is the reason for the salinity of the oceans which in turn contributes to driving the currents of the seas and thereby regulates the temperatures of the earth.  Salt inhibits the growth of bacteria and other beasties and is essential for preserving many foods.  Biomolecularly, the human body requires sodium chloride to maintain osmotic balance of cells, transmit chemical signals in our nervous systems and aids in the elasticity of our blood vessels.

Salt is mentioned in 40 verses in the King James Bible, and has been an important element in most world religions and religious ceremonies throughout history.

Table salt

Oh, and salt also enhances flavors.  (If you doubt it, try baking a loaf of bread without adding salt to the dough. I recently screwed that up.  YUCK!)  For that reason, you'll find salt as one of the top ingredients in many pre-packaged foods.  So much so, that it has been linked to health problems in many first world diets.  (It should be noted that studies on the long term health effects of salt are inconclusive, at best.  While it MAY exacerbate the effects of high blood pressure in some people already suffering from high blood pressure, a salt-heavy diet does not appear to contribute significantly to mortality or morbidity.  In my opinion, foods heavy in salt are usually also heavy in other preservatives, saturated fats and high fructose corn syrup which have all been proven to be significantly worse for you.)

Table salt under 10x magnification

Salt comes to us in many varieties.  We most commonly recognize table salt in our home and restaurant use.  Its small, consistent crystals (which look all too similar to sugar so as to prompt sophomoric pranks of switching the two) shakes out of salt shakers easily, is simple to measure, and dissolves easily.  Table salt is highly refined, removing most flavoring minerals, but adding in iodine, anti-caking compounds and sometimes additional nutrients.  Because of its small grains, I usually use slightly less salt than called for in recipes, but it's the only seasoning I use on popcorn.

Kosher salt

Kosher salt is hands down my favorite for cooking. When seasoning meats, it's broad, flat flakes spread evenly and dissolve quickly. Kosher salt usually contains less additives than table salt but is still rather highly refined. And salt itself is really neither Kosher nor not Kosher. Unless it's soaked in prawns, salt is fine in Kosher seasoning. But Kosher salt is regularly used in Kosher meat preparation. It's flat structure draws out protein-rich liquids, evenly, to the surface which allows for a lovely Maillard reaction. 

Kosher salt under 10x magnification

Sea salt with Greek spices

Fleur de sel, or sea salt, is less refined and contains trace minerals from the salt water from which it came.  The removal of salt (and other minerals) from salt water, or desalinization, is arguably one of the most important advancements in the future of human agriculture.  The salt is flavorful and usually has large crystals.  This is a great salt to grind and add to dishes where the salt is supposed to be a highlight.

Sea salt under 10x magnification

A Himalayan Salt Block

Mineral Salts, or salts that are mined from the land, are usually extracted from land-bound salt deposits, that used to be water deposits.  Through geologic processes, these salts usually contain the highest mineral concentrations.  Like sea salt, they are best expressed where the salt should be tasted.  Because these salts are often formed into large rock formations, they can also be cut into blocks.  This is an AMAZING application and we love to use ours as a serving tray for sliced fruit.  The juices from the fruit dissolves trace amounts of the salt block, which in turn lightly seasons the fruit.  A perfect system.  Shop for salt blocks at The Meadow. 

Seasoned and smoked salts punch up the flavor to a whole other level.  If getting out the grill would be impractical, but you still want that hint of smokiness, try smoked salt.  Or if you want an easy boost of herbs and other seasonings to your potatoes, try seasoned salt. 

I've written before on using salt in a brine.  I've also posted a recipe for cooking a chicken in a salt crust.  However, I love when a chef (or anyone, really) questions what they've been taught.  Chef Oliver Schwaner-Albright had such a crisis of faith and through his experimentation, learned much about when to add salt to meats.   

So when should you use the different kinds of salts?  As usual, my first recommendation is taste and experiment.  What tastes good?  You've got some good hints in foods you already know.  Pretzels wouldn't be the same without salt, so salt baked into a bread's crust should be good.  Many families pass the salt when they split open a melon.  I discovered that I love coffee ice cream with a pinch of sea salt. 

If you can avoid most of the salt used in prepackaged foods, you shouldn't be afraid of salt.  So give it a whirl and try a kick of unexpected flavor. 

For dessert, try:

Ice Cream Scoops Rolled in Graham Cracker and Salt
4 scoops of your favorite Ice Cream (for those keeping track, Mint Chocolate Chip is my favorite)
8 Graham Crackers
1 tablespoon Sugar
2 teaspoons coarsely ground Fleur de Sel

Place a cookie sheet lined with parchment or wax paper in the freezer until very cold, about 15 minutes.  Using an ice cream scoop run under a hot tap, scoop individual scoops of ice cream onto the cookie sheet.  Return to the freezer. 

Using a rolling pin, crush the graham crackers to a coarse powder.  Combine the sugar, graham crackers and salt in a shallow, wide bowl. 

When the ice cream is frozen hard enough to handle, roll the scoops in the graham cracker mix, coating evenly.  Serve and enjoy!


Rosemary and Lemon Cookies with Fleur de Sel
1 cup butter, softened
1 1/2 cups white sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
Zest of 2 Lemons
1 tablespoon fresh Rosemary, minced
Sea Salt (unground)

Preheat oven to 375 degrees and grease (or spray) a cookie sheet. 

In a large bowl, cream the butter and sugar together.  Beat in the egg and the vanilla.  In another bowl, stir together the flour, baking soda, baking powder, lemon zest and rosemary.  Slowly add the dry ingredients to the wet until well mixed.

Put a little salt (1 tablespoon or so) onto a small plate.  Roll the dough into 1 inch balls.  Tap the ball lightly once into the salt.  You want to pick up a few grains of salt on each cookie.  Place the balls on the cookie sheet, salt side, up. 

Bake for 8-10 minutes or until golden brown.  Let rest for a few minutes on the cookie sheet before removing to a cooling rack.  Makes about 4 dozen.


And just because you read all the way through, you get a picture of my Sunday morning.

Apples on a Salt Block.  (And the dog looks on in curious bemusement.)