Show Notes
Salt: From the Roman Legion to Your Electrolyte Packet You've probably heard that Roman soldiers were paid in salt—and that this is where we get the word salary. It's a great story. It's also almost certainly not true. The Romans had money. We find Roman coins throughout the former empire, including around military forts such as those along Hadrian's Wall, and we have evidence that Roman soldiers were paid in money. What we do have is an ancient linguistic connection between the Latin sal, meaning salt, and salarium, which eventually gives us salary. Somewhere along the way, that became the much better story that a legionary went to the quartermaster and collected his wages at the imperial salt lick. But the fact that the story sounds believable tells us something important: salt really was extraordinarily valuable. Long before Rome, humans sought salt just as other animals do. Animals travel to mineral licks, and humans learned to exploit saline springs, coastal deposits, and eventually salt mines. Nobody needed to measure a serum sodium to discover salt. We had two very good reasons to want it: salt tastes good, and salt preserves food. That second property changed civilization. Meat and fish could be salted and dried. Vegetables could be fermented. Milk could be transformed into cheese, concentrating its nutrition and allowing it to last far longer than fresh milk. Salt helped food survive winter, travel aboard ships, and provision armies. The Egyptians even used natron—a mixture of sodium salts rather than ordinary table salt—to dry and preserve their dead. Hence the mummy. Or occasionally, presumably, the daddy. Once everyone wanted salt, governments discovered the next obvious thing to do: tax it. Salt became a source of state revenue in ancient China, traveled along trade routes in Rome, was burdened by the French gabelle, and eventually became the focus of Gandhi's famous Salt March against British rule in India. Then something changed. We got very good at producing salt, and we invented refrigeration. One of the principal reasons humans had consumed large quantities of salt—preserving food—became much less important. Unfortunately, we didn't stop liking the taste. Modern food manufacturers discovered that salt was cheap, improved flavor and texture, and could be added to almost everything. Today, the problem is rarely finding enough sodium. It's avoiding too much of it. There was, however, one particularly clever moment when public health took advantage of our universal salt habit. Iodine deficiency once produced enormous numbers of goiters and, more importantly, could impair fetal and childhood brain development. In 1924, iodized salt appeared on grocery shelves in Michigan as part of the American effort to combat endemic iodine deficiency. The idea was beautifully simple: everybody eats salt, so put iodine in the salt. Salt iodization became an extraordinarily effective way to prevent iodine-deficiency disorders, and it remains recommended by the World Health Organization. Which makes today's fascination with expensive “mineral” salts particularly amusing. Celtic sea salt, Himalayan pink salt, and other specialty salts contain magnesium, calcium, and other minerals—but in trace amounts. If you like their taste or texture, wonderful. I have fancy salts in my kitchen too. That's cuisine, not cardiology. If you want magnesium, eat some nuts. And then buy Morton's. We have performed a similar trick with hydration. There are people who genuinely need extra sodium: athletes exercising for hours, people working in extreme heat, and people experiencing substantial fluid losses. The development of sports drinks was a reasonable response to athletes losing both water and electrolytes during prolonged exercise. Somehow, that became the idea that everyone needs mango-flavored electrolytes simply because they own a water bottle. Most of us don't. Sodium is essential, but essential doesn't mean unlimited. The WHO
More from Fork U with Dr. Terry Simpson
With all the spices we have access to, it is amazing how bland recipes have become. I have many cookbooks, some from great chefs, television personalities, and friends. What I am always surprised by is how bland the food has become. People seem to think a bit of salt, pepper, maybe onions, and garlic provide the spices one needs. Perhaps it is because some associate spice with heat. Mostly because many have never experimented with some of those great warm spices available. A pinch of coriander, some freshly ground cumin, a little cardamom, or a touch of cinnamon can turn an ordinary dish into something remarkable. And the most astonishing part is that these spices financed voyages around the world, built cities, created fortunes, and caused people to kill one another. Without the spice trade, it is safe to say that the United States, as we know it, would be vastly different from what it is now. The money loaned to the United States, when we were a fledgling country, came from the wealthy spice merchants from what was considered one of the great hyperempires of the world, based in Amsterdam. But before we go to the birth of the United States, let me take you to the meatball.
Tea: The Drink That Built an Empire—and Helped Break One China had the tea. Britain had the appetite. John Hancock had a business to protect.
MesoAmerica and Chocolate In our series looking at foods that built civilizations, today we are going to stay in the Americas with chocolate. Chocolate has been used as currency, consumed by kings, incorporated into religious ceremonies, and prescribed as medicine. Today, it is a multibillion-dollar industry that wants you to believe that eating chocolate is an act of preventive cardiology. I mean, why not? They convinced us to give chocolate to people we love, eat it when we are happy, when we are sad, when only the dog understands us. Don’t feed chocolate to your dog. And we have done all this with a bitter seed that most of us would probably spit out if we tasted it straight from the tree.
I’ve been doing a series about foods that built civilizations. In this episode, we are talking about the potato. It is difficult to imagine that thousands of years ago, people constructed large buildings, managed rivers, built monuments, and created art. We have glimpses of these civilizations through stories, archaeology, and the structures they left behind, but much of their history has been lost. Imagine, we don’t even know where Cleopatra or Alexander the Great are buried, yet we know their stories. As European powers conquered Indigenous peoples, their languages, cultures, and oral traditions were suppressed. When a language disappears, so are the stories preserved within it. Our clues come from archaeology when we uncover a monument, a building, or an ancient settlement. In the Andes, the potatoes they cultivated were not the Russets, Yukon Golds, or fingerlings you find in the store today. Different colors, shapes, and textures. Adapted to survive the elevations, temperatures, and growing conditions. Biodiversity protected their food supply against frost, disease, and changing environmental conditions. If one variety failed, another might survive. The ancient wisdom of diversity that Andean farmers developed over thousands of years was lost when the potato eventually reached Ireland.
In our series about foods that built civilization, we talked a lot about grains, from wheat to corn to rice. Today, we are taking you to the ocean, with the civilizations that salmon built. From California to the interior of Alaska, salmon, a staple, allowed people to settle into villages, develop complex social networks, art, and trade routes. Those trade routes are as large as the ones in the Mediterranean. Some tribes built communal homes and developed complex art and language. Some were Seafaring tribes with canoes up to 60 feet long that traveled across oceans. All because there was a fish that would return in large numbers to streams and rivers, reliably, predictably. So predictable, the people could build their lives around salmon runs. So much so that some built a calendar not only with lunar cycles, but also with the return of the salmon. Civilizations have always gathered around food and water. The Mediterranean connected people who grew wheat and olives, giving people time to make wine, mine copper, build ships, trade with their neighbors, and occasionally go to war with them. Asia had rice and grain near the great river systems. The reliable calories from rice and grains allowed villages to become cities and to travel by water to trade. Today we are going to my home, from the Ventura River in California to my home state of Alaska.