Chapter 13.12: The Salt of the Land and the Sea

Introduction to Bacon & the Art of Living

The story of bacon is set in the late 1800s and early 1900s when most of the important developments in bacon took place. The plotline takes place in the 2000s with each character referring to a real person and actual events. The theme is a kind of “steampunk” where modern mannerisms, speech, clothes and practices are superimposed on a historical setting. Modern people interact with old historical figures with all the historical and cultural bias that goes with this.

narrative – the history of bacon

The Salt of Land and the Sea

December 1985

Dear Tristan and Lauren,

On our voyage back to England in December 1892, Minette and I had ample time to reflect on our adventure up to that point. She would continually remind me that David de Villiers Graaff also left Cape Town in the mid-1880s for a long trip to Great Britain and America to learn more about the meat trade. It was the talk of the town! His meat company, Combrink & Co was even in those years the biggest butchery in town with an abattoir at the top of Hanover Street, in District Six and retail butcheries throughout the city. (Simons, PB, 2000: 22, 24) I imagine that his motivation for his trip to England and the US was the same as it is for Oscar, myself and the Woodys team. Seek out new developments that will give us the edge over competitors.

I was very aware that we still had much to learn about the butcher’s trade. David knew these matters intimately from age 11. I did not see our lack of prior exposure to the arts of the trade as a drawback because it allowed us to learn from many mentors whereas David had only Uncle Jakobus Combrink to teach him. Even though Jakobus was a most formidable man, and a mentor to me also, especially during my childhood years, I have come to greatly value the insights of a plurality of mentors. All shape our lives in slightly different ways. One of the opportunities I had since the start of our quest was to delve into the chemistry of curing and what better place to pause than on the subject of salt? In my previous letter, we touched on sodium chloride a bit but we spent a lot of time on developing the nature of salt generally as a class of compounds and its discovery. It is time to continue our focus narrowly on sodium chloride.

We have it every day, yet I never understood it! This ordinary substance morphed, right in front of my eyes into the supreme ingredient. It is the food of life! The substance that contains the fullness of the earth. The element of which we live and breathe and have our being! There is so much to teach you about salt and its rich history.

Researchers miss some of its features because they have a narrow focus on sodium chloride as salt. Of course, this is not warranted because this is not how salt occurs in nature. Salt exists as a combination of an acid and a base in many forms. Some of the most famous salts from antiquity are sodium chloride, potassium, calcium or sodium nitrate, ammonium chloride, magnesium sulfate and sodium bicarbonate. It also occurs in combination with a wide variety of minerals and other chemical elements.

Unravelling the different salts and the ability to separate them is the story of the development of modern chemistry and modern technology itself. The technical underpinnings for a culture to advance in terms of glassworks, and different metals such as iron depended on their understanding of different salts and how it’s separated and refined. More than that, it is an understanding of salt that ushered in the age of gunpowder and brought with it enormous benefits in terms of a nation’s military capability. Not only were advances in technology related to salt the key to a nation’s military power, but they also became the basis of modern agriculture in the various nitrate salts, ammonium, and ammonia. Understanding its value reaches back to the start of animal husbandry without it, this development would not have succeeded. It is therefore not an overstatement to say that no culture could ever achieve full independence or mastery over its own future without a better understanding of salt. Without it, there would have remained insurmountable obstacles in its ability to manipulate the forces of nature for the common good and its own independence.

I decided to give you a flavour of the importance of salt around the world and since we have already looked at saltpetre and sal ammoniac in great detail, I thought to restrict this, for the most part, to sodium chloride. The first most general observation we can make is that sodium chloride comes from the earth and the sea.

France

The salt works in the medieval French town of Guérande employed around 900 workers just a few years ago in the mid-1800s (Bitterman, M, 2010: 24) and it has been in operation for hundreds of years. Salt was produced along the coastlines of India, and Africa, in Mexico along the Yucatan Peninsula’s salt lagoons, and along the coast of Central America for centuries. (Bitterman, M, 2010: 18 – 23) In China and North America, everywhere salt was produced from water and rock salt deposits, remnants of dried salt lakes, springs and the receding sea.

Salt production in China

Throughout the imperial era of China, spanning from the third century B.C.E. to the early twentieth century A.D., salt and iron monopolies significantly contributed to state revenue. It’s even been suggested that inland salt sources were pivotal in Qin’s unification of China in 221 B.C.E. Flad and colleagues, in 2005, highlighted the critical role of salt production at Zhongba during the first millennium B.C.E., positioning it as a significant activity based on the latest research technologies. Zhongba, situated in Zhong Xian County, Chongqing Municipality and roughly 200 km down the Yangzi River from Chongqing City, showcases the oldest confirmed pottery-based salt production in China.

The research by Flad et al. underlines the uniformity of ceramic assemblages in early phases, hinting at salt production’s significance in the region across the second millennium B.C. This predates the Qin expansion into Sichuan in 316 B.C., marking an extensive history of salt production. The role of Zhongba’s salt in southern China was crucial for state formation, with its production, surplus generation, and trade stimulating contacts along the Yangzi River and contributing to social differentiation and the development of complex economic systems in nearby polities such as Chu.

The trade networks established around salt not only facilitated the emergence of social hierarchies but also became integral to the military provisioning of expanding states like Qin and Chu. This underlines salt’s critical role in the broader socio-political and economic landscape of ancient China, suggesting its trade extended into Polynesia post the second millennium B.C.E., particularly during the Christian Era.

Salt production in Fiji

On the island of Viti Levu, Fiji, within the Sigatoka Sand Dunes, remnants of ancient solar-evaporation salt-works have been discovered, dating back to the seventh century AD. Utilizing large flanged clay dishes, this method employed seawater to produce salt, a practice that, despite its disappearance under the dunes, found echoes in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. During these later periods, salt production shifted towards extracting salt by boiling brine, with the salt serving as a vital commodity for inland communities along the river. This salt not only held significant trade value but also acted as an agent of social change, underscoring its importance in the fabric of Fijian society.

This solar salt production site, operational between 2100 to 900 years ago (BP), displays cultural characteristics that suggest influences from contact with Vanuatu and New Caledonia. Such historical connections highlight the broader network of exchange and interaction within the Pacific region.

The significance of salt in Fijian society is further corroborated by Williams, T. (1858), who reported on salt from inland sources in Fiji, presumed to be ancient sites. Williams’ accounts also note salt as a regular item of trade, leading to speculation about the long-standing role of salt within Fijian society well before 1858. By the time New Zealand was colonized by Polynesians, salt was undoubtedly ingrained in Fijian culture, playing a critical role in trade, prestige, and social dynamics.

Use of salt on Samoa

In the rich tapestry of Pacific Islander culture, Samoa holds an ancient narrative that hints at the traditional use of salt, not through production, but as a practice woven into their legends. One such tale, a variant of the legend of Sina and the eel, tells of Sina’s mother descending to the sea to collect saltwater for cooking. Andersen, J. C., in 1928, points out this practice as likely one of the earliest methods of utilizing salt, a technique presumably familiar to all those living near the coast. This method of drawing directly from natural liquid brines suggests the early development of salt not only as a culinary condiment but also as a means of food preservation (Andersen, J. C.; 1928: 251).

Parallel to this, an intriguing account from Madagascar, documented by Campbell in his 1822 “Campbell’s Travels,” reveals that the concept of salt was almost alien to the local people. Coastal inhabitants would season their cooking meat with seawater, while those in the interior used leaves from the “salt tree,” a plant known for its high salt content. Campbell’s observations not only corroborate the use of natural resources for salt but also introduce the notion of plants as sources of salinity (Campbell, 1822).

This segue into the utilization of salt-rich plants leads us to the salt production techniques in New Guinea and their resemblance to methods encountered in southern Africa, which I have observed firsthand during my explorations of the interior. Such historical anecdotes and practices underscore the diverse and innovative ways through which various cultures have harnessed natural resources to meet their dietary salt needs.

Salt in New Guinea

In Polynesia, New Guinea stands out for its rich history of innovative salt extraction methods. One notable technique involves burning salted plants and harvesting salt grains from the resulting ashes and charcoal. Specifically, in Papua (the western part of New Guinea, Indonesia), the Western Dani people engage in specialized expeditions to produce salt cakes near natural salt springs. They enter into agreements with the landowners, the Moni, exchanging shells, fineries, pigs, or axes for the necessary sustenance during their salt-making endeavors.

The process begins with the collection of young stems from porous edible plants, notably Elastostema macrophylla from the Urticaceae family, and trunks of trees that yield substantial charcoal but minimal ashes upon burning. After preparing the spring pool and ensuring no freshwater influx, the plants are submerged in the salty water for over a day. Concurrently, men collect additional vegetal materials for packaging the salt and prepare a flat terrace for the burning process.

Following a night’s exposure to the elements, a controlled burn lasting seven hours transforms the salt-infused plants into ashes and charcoal, with the flames being extinguished using brine. The painstaking process of sifting through the remains to extract salt concentrations follows. These salt grains are then processed further, mixed with brine, and compressed into molds lined with pandanus leaves to form salt cakes. These cakes are left to dry above a fireplace for over a week, resulting in hard, compact “stone salt” ideal for storage and transport.

This light-gray salt, predominantly composed of sodium chloride, is remarkable for its purity. The sophisticated technique employed by the New Guinea inhabitants not only showcases their deep understanding of natural resources but also highlights a unique cultural approach to salt extraction within the broader Polynesian context.

Salt in Vanuatu

Vanuatu, a nation of about 80 islands in the South Pacific Ocean, boasts a deep-rooted history of salt utilization, tracing back to its first Austronesian-speaking settlers around 3,300 years ago. Evidence of this ancient practice is supported by pottery fragments dating from 1300–1100 BC, indicating a long-standing familiarity with salt extraction from natural sources. Among these, the Sago Palm (Metroxylon) stands out for its role in producing vegetable salt, a technique predating the arrival of Europeans in August 1774.

Jean-Michel Dupuyoo (2007) highlights the ingenious use of Sago palms for salt extraction. The plant’s leaves and petioles, when burned, leave behind ashes rich in salt. This salt is then leached with water to create a saline solution, used for seasoning food and preparing sauces—a practice still alive in central Espiritu Santo. Additionally, other species like banana trees (Musa spp.) and tree ferns (Cyathea spp.) serve as alternative sources for vegetable salt extraction.

This method of obtaining salt was crucial, especially during periods of local warfare when access to the sea was restricted, echoing the Samoan legend of Sina, where seawater boiling for salt extraction is mentioned. Such practices underscore the importance of salt in food preservation and seasoning, even in times when meat storage in water was one of the earliest forms of food preservation.

From a nutritional standpoint, maintaining adequate sodium intake through a vegetarian diet can be challenging, as many plants, nuts, berries, and fruits in southern Africa fall short of meeting daily sodium requirements. However, certain sodium-rich fruits endemic to specific regions, like the mammy apple, guavas, and passion fruit, could fulfill these needs if consumed in sufficient quantities. Healthline advises less than 1500 mg of sodium per day, equating to about 0.75 teaspoons or 3.75 grams of salt.

Joël Bonnemaison, a leading anthropologist, documented the pre-European trade practices in Vanuatu, noting salt and fish as key commodities exchanged between coastal and inland communities. This trade highlights the integral role of salt in Vanuatu’s culture and economy, underscoring its value across various Pacific Island societies.

Salt in Taiwan

Taiwan, much like New Zealand, lacks natural rock salt deposits, yet its history reveals a rich tradition of salt production and trade. A significant discovery on Taiwu Mountain in Kinmen unveiled a stela inscribed by a Yuan Dynasty official from 1271 to 1368, detailing instructions for constructing salt fields in Wuzhou, Kinmen, hinting at early salt production efforts (atc.archives.gov.tw/salt).

The island’s strategic location attracted Europeans, Chinese, and Japanese traders by the second half of the 16th century, engaging in commerce with Taiwanese aborigines and exchanging commodities like agate, cloth, salt, and copper for buckskin, as noted by Nakayama in 1959. The prevalent method for salt production involved boiling seawater until only salt remained—a technique that was not universally appreciated.

In the mid-17th century, following the Ming dynasty’s fall around 1644, Cheng Cheng-kung, also known as Koxinga, retreated to Taiwan. One of his generals, Chen Yung-hua, expressed a preference for salt obtained through solar evaporation over the decocted salt from boiled seawater. In response, in 1665, he initiated the construction of salt pans at what is now Laikou in Tainan County, marking a shift towards solar evaporation methods for salt production (Taiwan Today, 1991).

The subsequent Ching dynasty saw the development of six additional saltworks. The late 19th-century governor of Taiwan, Liu Ming-chuan, also served as the salt supervisor, founding a government salt bureau in Taipei with a branch in Tainan. Despite these bureaucratic innovations, Taiwan’s salt production, capped at 25,000 tons annually, was insufficient to meet local demand, necessitating imports from the mainland (Taiwan Today, 1991).

By the 17th century, literature references indicate that Taiwan engaged in barter trade, exchanging sulfur, deer hides, and gold for essential goods like salt, fabrics, and iron with the outside world, underscoring the continuous challenge of local salt production falling short of demand (Huang, Fu–san; 2005). This narrative illustrates Taiwan’s intricate history with salt, from ancient production methods to international trade dynamics, shaping its cultural and economic landscape.

Salt and the People of Southern Africa

Southern Africa’s landscape is dotted with salt pans and marshes, a testament to the region’s rich history of salt usage and technology transfer. Högberg, A., and Lombard, M. (2016) explored the transfer of technology related to Still Bay Point-Production, indicating a vibrant exchange of knowledge, including salt and its trade, across Southern Africa around 80-70,000 years ago. This exchange underscores the region’s long-standing familiarity with salt, predating even the significant environmental changes brought by European colonization.

Mentzel’s observations from the 1700 Cape Colony reveal an abundance of salt, noting that the Drakenstein area’s soil was rich in salt particles, suggesting that salt could easily be harvested from numerous brine pits across the Cape. This abundance meant that salt gathering left little archaeological trace, emphasizing the natural wealth of the region in this vital resource.

The trading of salt from the Makgadikgadi basin eastwards to Zimbabwe suggests a well-established salt trade network. Denbow (1986) highlights the strategic placement of stone ruins of the Zimbabwe IKhami culture, indicating the antiquity of this trade. Such practices mirror the inventive ways humans have historically engaged with their environment to meet dietary and preservation needs.

The use of investigative techniques by ancient peoples on various materials but not on salt seems improbable. Given their advancements in technology, such as tool-making and art, experimenting with salt for food preservation is a likely pursuit. The high sodium content in plant ashes from the region further suggests an ancient understanding of salt’s value.

Archaeology’s evolving analytical techniques promise to shed more light on salt’s prehistoric use, as hinted at by references from Schapera (1930) and O. F. Mentzel (1778), suggesting a deep-seated cultural engagement with salt. Mentzel’s accounts, while Eurocentric and derogatory, inadvertently provide insight into the indigenous use of salt and meat preservation practices, including the potential origins of biltong within Khoe culture.

The practice of using salt for meat preservation, highlighted by Schapera, and the antiseptic properties of ash used in traditional healing, illustrate the sophisticated understanding of salt’s properties among early southern Africans. This knowledge, coupled with the observed behavior of animals congregating around water and salt licks, likely guided early humans to recognize and utilize salt in their diets.

In summary, the rich salt heritage of southern Africa, from natural abundance to sophisticated trade and utilization practices, underscores a profound, millennia-spanning relationship with this essential mineral. The region’s history of salt use, shaped by environmental abundance, technological innovation, and cultural practices, highlights the integral role of salt in human development and survival.

The abundance of food – a possible reason for low salt usage

In southern Africa, the scarcity of salt in some regions contrasts sharply with its abundance in others. Despite this abundance, salt did not become a fundamental part of the local cultures, especially those we encountered before European influences altered their traditional ways. Deacon (1993) observed that Stone Age foragers did not store plants for future consumption, except for oil-rich seeds and fruits used as cosmetics, suggesting a culture deeply reliant on the immediate availability of food and community sharing networks. In the Kalahari, for example, plant foods might have constituted up to 80% of the diet.

This reliance on the environment’s bounty extends to meat preservation. While it occurred, there’s no substantial evidence to suggest that it was a regular practice among the Khoe or the San. The historical abundance of food in the region, exemplified by stories of the large shellfish once easily found on beaches, underscores a landscape of plenty that could diminish the necessity for meat preservation methods like salting.

The tradition of consuming fermented and partially decomposed meat throughout much of prehistory further contextualizes the apparent absence of salt-preserved meats. However, the idea that the indigenous peoples of southern Africa were unaware of salt’s antiseptic and preservative properties seems unlikely. Given the regional availability of salt and the sophisticated understanding of natural resources demonstrated by these communities, it’s plausible that they were familiar with salt’s beneficial properties but perhaps chose not to utilize it extensively in their food preservation practices due to the abundance of fresh resources and the cultural preferences of the time.

Ash in Food

During my exploration into the interior with Minette, we encountered a cave in Eastern Transvaal, a site intermittently inhabited since 85,000 years before the present. An elder, stationed by the landowner to protect the cave, shared his father’s memory, extending back at least 170 years. He linked dried meat to salt, not in its common form but as ash. He recalled his father’s practice of boiling or roasting dried meat in ash before consumption, suggesting an ancient method of cooking “in the ash” before cooking pots existed. This tradition, as per the elder’s testimony, not only enhanced the meat’s flavour but also indicated regular dietary supplementation with salt through ash, dependent on the ash source’s tree or shrub type.

He highlighted the pre-drying application of ash on meat to deter flies and insects, confirming the preservative use of minerals like potassium applied before drying. Elanor Muller further informed me about the Zimbabwean Ndebele’s traditional dish Ewomileyo, involving rehydrated dried meat, modernly mixed with peanut butter, echoing ancient practices of nut incorporation in meat dishes. This practice underlines dried meat’s historical significance in southern Africa, suggesting ancient methods of fly management and rapid meat dehydration for preservation.

Piet Otto’s insights from living with Bushman tribes revealed the small quantities of salt they carried for various purposes, including meat cooking in hot ash for flavor enhancement. He noted ancient local salt mines, indicating salt’s known but sparing use by local tribes in its pure form.

This evidence collectively underscores Southern Africa’s locals’ practice of salting and drying meat through ash. As I shifted my focus from salt to ash, the practice emerged as notably documented. Henry Lichtenstein, in his 1803 publication, noted the Tswana people’s use of natron or ash from a salt succulent plant for meat seasoning, preferring to roast their meat in ashes. This rich tradition of meat preservation highlights an enduring, resourceful engagement with the natural environment, transcending mere survival to embody deep cultural wisdom.

Evidence from 1687

The historical records affirm that the peoples of Southern Africa were well acquainted with salt and its preservative uses. George McCall Theal, in his 1897 “History of South Africa Under the Administration of the Dutch East India Company, 1652 to 1795,” narrates an event from 1687 involving shipwrecked men from the Bona Ventura of London. These men, having lost their ship at St. Lucia Bay on 25 December 1686, embarked on an overland journey to the Cape of Good Hope, only to find themselves among Europeans and a nearly sea-ready vessel at Natal.

In preparation for their voyage, provisions were acquired from the Natal natives, including thousands of pounds of millet, a substantial quantity of salted and smoked meat, millet meal, goats, fowls, and pumpkins, alongside seventeen small casks of water and the ivory bartered by the Englishmen. This account unequivocally indicates the natives’ practice of smoking and salting meat.

The narrative further details the launching of the vessel, named the Centaurus, and the decision of some Englishmen and a Frenchman from the Bona Ventura’s crew to stay behind in Natal, drawn to the simpler life there compared to the rigors of the sea. The Centaurus, devoid of chart or compass and thus hugging the coastline for navigation, eventually reached Table Bay on 1 March, marking the end of their journey.

Theal’s account sheds light on the intricate knowledge and application of salt by Southern Africa’s peoples, illustrating that the curing and smoking of meat were not exclusively European practices but were also deeply ingrained in the African continent’s cultural heritage. This revelation broadens our understanding of historical food preservation techniques, revealing a rich and diverse global history of culinary practices stretching back into antiquity.

Why is the Sea Salty?

The question of why the sea is salty has fascinated humanity for centuries, leading to a rich tapestry of scientific inquiry and philosophical speculation. From ancient times to modern scientific exploration, various thinkers have sought to understand the salinity of the sea and other bodies of water.

Empedocles, a pre-Socratic philosopher, poetically described seawater as “the Sweat of the Earth,” initiating a long history of attempts to explain the sea’s saltiness. Aristotle observed that saltwater was heavier and denser than freshwater and noted its salty and bitter taste, suggesting a complex composition.

Roman philosopher Pliny the Elder wrote extensively on the topic, while Lucius Seneca observed the constancy of water level and salinity in the sea, despite the continuous addition of freshwater from rivers and rain. Leonardo da Vinci pondered over this mystery in his “The Notebooks,” contributing to the discourse with his unparalleled curiosity.

The scientific method began to play a more significant role with Robert Boyle’s “Observations and Experiments in the Saltness of the Sea” in 1674, marking a shift towards empirical investigation. Antoine Lavoisier, in the late 18th century, applied evaporation and solvent extraction in his analysis of seawater, writing papers on seawater and the Dead Sea.

Torbern Bergman’s examination of all natural waters laid the groundwork for understanding seawater’s composition by developing a list of substances identified in seawater. Joseph Louis Gay-Lussac, a renowned French chemist and physicist, devoted considerable effort to studying seawater’s saltiness, advancing the scientific exploration of this topic.

Johann Georg Forchhammer’s work on estimating the principal salt components in seawater, such as chlorine, sulfuric acid, magnesia, lime, potash, and soda, led to the establishment of Forchhammer’s Principle, or the Principle of Constant Proportions. This principle posits that the ratio of major salts in seawater samples from various locations remains constant.

W Dittmar’s legendary analysis of 77 samples collected by chemist J Y Buchanan during the Challenger Expedition (1872-1876) further solidified our understanding of seawater’s composition. This progression of inquiry, from ancient philosophers to modern chemists, underscores humanity’s enduring fascination with the natural world and our relentless pursuit of knowledge.

Centuries of scientific exploration have led to the understanding that the sea’s saltiness originates from the erosion of Earth’s crust, with rivers carrying these dissolved minerals to the oceans. This natural process results in the concentration of minerals in seawater, salt marshes, and springs. Notably, the most prevalent elements in seawater are sodium and chloride, with concentrations of 47 millimoles of sodium and 546 millimoles of chloride per liter, mirroring their abundance in the Earth’s crust and the universe at large (Laszlo, P, 1998: 92).

Thus, the essence of the earth’s minerals becomes encapsulated in the crystalline structure of sea salt, encompassing a rich array of elements such as magnesium, sulfur, calcium, potassium, bromine, and carbon among others. These elements not only contribute to the unique taste of salt but also reflect the mineral diversity of our planet. However, the advent of industrialization has led to the production of what is termed as pure salt, which is refined to consist solely of sodium and chloride, removing the trace minerals that naturally occur and add flavor to the salt. This shift underscores a move away from the natural complexity of salt as it is found in nature to a more simplified, industrial product.

Pure Sodium Chloride for Industry

The Industrial Revolution, with its insatiable appetite for resources, declared pure salt as one of its essential consumables. This demand led to innovative methods for producing sodium carbonate, also known as soda ash, a pivotal chemical feedstock. Ernest Solvay, a Belgian chemist, revolutionized this production in 1861 using salt brine. By heating limestone to release carbon dioxide and combining it with ammonia and sodium chloride, he laid the groundwork for manufacturing glass and other industrial goods.

By the 1890s, a significant portion of the world’s chlorine production was dedicated to creating bleaching agents through an electrolysis method. The Chloralkali process, which involves passing electricity through salt brine, often with mercury’s help, emerged as a burgeoning industry. This process yields two critical chemical products: caustic soda (sodium hydroxide) and chlorine, highlighting the lucrative potential of electrochemistry in transforming table salt into these substances in a single step.

In the United States, synthesized salt industries began to surface, with companies like Wyandotte Chemical Company and Dow Chemical Company pioneering new processes to produce caustic soda, hydrochloric acid, and, subsequently, sodium chloride (table salt).

The industrial focus on sodium chloride is understandable from a practical standpoint. If the additional components found in seawater are unnecessary for industrial applications or could even hinder these processes, it makes sense to refine salt until it is nearly devoid of other elements. University experiments have already begun to unveil the vast potential of chlorine, pointing toward a future where pure sodium chloride might dominate, potentially diminishing the richness and variety of salt available to us.

Natural Salt

Industrialization has transformed salt into something nature never intended: pure sodium chloride. This shift has significant implications, particularly for our culinary experiences and the art of cooking, which thrive on the complex flavors provided by natural salt. The diverse elements in natural salt contribute to a richness of taste akin to the variety found in wines from different regions.

In Europe, and likely worldwide, there’s a trend away from artisan salt producers, who craft salts as distinct as the wines of Italy and Spain. These producers face challenges competing with synthetically produced industrial salt. Industrial demands also pressure companies extracting salt from oceans, springs, or earth to purify it to just sodium and chloride, sidelining the myriad other elements that give natural salt its character.

This move towards uniformity, driven by the efficiencies of science and industrialization, is lamentable. We stand to lose the essence of what makes our culinary heritage unique, trading centuries-old skills and the nuanced flavors of traditional salts for something mundane and universally identical, designed for industrial consumption.

David Livingston spoke of vast salt reserves within the continent’s interior, including the extensive salt pans like Ntwetwe in Botswana, described as sprawling and rich in natural salt. Near Cape Town, salt works have operated for centuries, if not millennia, producing salts with unique qualities distinct from European varieties. This historical and geographical diversity in salt sources offers a promising opportunity to distinguish African bacon and other culinary products by utilizing unrefined African salt.

By embracing the natural variety of African salts, we have the potential to produce bacon and other foods as unique as those from England, Germany, America, and Holland. Our goal is to blend European bacon-making techniques

The Taste of Salt

Initiating our exploration into sodium chloride, it was initially thought that we’d delve into its preservative qualities. Surprisingly, the journey began with a focus on salt’s taste, an attribute as crucial as its functional role. The addition of saltpetre and sugar to cured meats traditionally serves to counterbalance the saltiness, underscoring the importance of taste in the culinary realm. This insight led to the revelation that carefully selecting our salt source could not only modify but enhance the flavor of food, presenting an excellent strategy for culinary excellence. As John Harris pointed out, in the food production trade, the imperative is to craft products of exceptional taste.

Our bodies comprise approximately 99% oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, and phosphorus, with the remaining 1% consisting of potassium, sulfur, sodium, magnesium, iron, and other elements. The composition of our bodies shows remarkable parallels to that found in seawater, highlighting a deep connection between us and the natural world (Bitterman, M, 2010: 33).

This leads to the notion that taste serves as a critical mechanism for discerning what is beneficial or detrimental to our health. If natural, unrefined salts from seawater, marshes, or springs offer a superior taste compared to pure sodium chloride, it suggests an inherent health benefit in these natural salts. Taste, after all, is a fundamental criterion in our food choices, capable of eliciting profound sensations akin to sexual experiences, thus emphasizing the integral role of food in human pleasure and well-being.

This understanding underscores the value of incorporating natural, full-spectrum salts into our diets, not just for their preservative properties but for their potential health benefits and their capacity to elevate the culinary experience.

Lake Asale

Implications about the origin of nitrite/ nitrate curing

Exploring the intricacies of sodium chloride inevitably leads us back to the fascinating world of nitrate curing. The discovery that certain salts could not only enhance meat preservation but also restore its colour to a vibrant pinkish/red hue likely occurred independently across various cultures. Coastal dwellers, familiar with the properties of sea or bay salt, would have recognized its curing capabilities.

Dr. Francois Mellett, a renowned South African food scientist, shared an intriguing theory suggesting that the curing process might have originated with early seafarers. He proposed that when protein is immersed in seawater, surface amino acids are deaminated to form nitrite over four to six weeks, which then converts to nitrate. This accidental discovery, potentially predating the invention of barrels, indicates that meat preservation in seawater could have been a widespread practice, possibly marking the curing process’s inception at the dawn of human settlement around coastal areas.

This hypothesis pushes the discovery of meat curing back to when modern humans began dispersing globally, suggesting that the art of curing could be as old as cognitive and cultured humanity itself. The regional recognition of curing practices likely aligns with the timeline of human population in those areas, underlining salt and meat curing’s deep-rooted history in human civilization.

Michail from C & T Harris highlighted the complexity of natural salt in curing, noting that not all elements in salt react with meat uniformly and that some might even interfere with the curing process. This complexity underscores the importance of scientific inquiry into how different components of natural salt influence meat curing. For instance, potassium in saltpetre, despite its slight aftertaste, does not adversely affect the curing process, whereas Chilean saltpetre (sodium nitrate) is considered an excellent curing agent, despite historical difficulties in distinguishing between potassium and sodium based on taste alone.

In the context of our venture, the exploration of factory space and the potential acquisition of an old butchery near Paarl for the Woodys factory indicates that our mission to produce the world’s best bacon is progressing. Initially viewing competitors like David and Combrinck & Co. as potential rivals, we now entertain the possibility of them becoming customers or distributors, illustrating the dynamic nature of our industry.

As we contemplate various strategic options, the luxury of choice allows us to wait and see which plan materializes, enhancing the journey with collaborative prospects and shared experiences. This exploration into the realm of salt, curing, and the broader implications for our culinary ambitions highlights the interconnectedness of science, history, and gastronomy in shaping our food production practices.

Spend much time on Table Mountain. Look after each other. Vist often! Please send your mom and Johann our love and greetings. Minette also send you loads of love!

Life is short!

Your Dad!

Stay in touch

Notes

(1) “Today, chloralkali processing is the largest single consumer of salt. Rayon, explosives, cosmetics and pharmaceuticals, shampoos, soaps, skin lotions, drying bleach, surgical cautery, petroleum refining – about fourteen thousand other products and processes all require these chemicals or the chemicals made from them. Between the Sovay and choloralkali processes, salt is the second biggest chemical feedstock after petroleum”

K+S, a German based salt producer, had a production capacity of 30 million tons of salt in 2009. China National Salt had a 19 million ton capacity. Compass Minerals and Cargill each have a capacity of about 14 million tons. Dampier has a capacity of 9 million tons, Artyomos, 7.5 million tons, Exportadora de Sel, 7 million tons, Sudsalz, 5.3 million tons, the Salins Group, 4.1 million tons, Mitsui & Co, 3.8 million tons, Kzo Nobel, 3.6 million tons. Their production is split between salt for industry/ pharmaceuticals, chemicals, roads, and the food sector.

Production is understandably geared towards the production of a pure sodium chloride salt from an industrialised perspective. Everything else is unfortunately and unjustifiably viewed as contaminants.

NaCl (sodium chloride) is a celebration of the industrialism. (Bitterman, M, 2010: 25 – 27)

Most of the small salt companies with their unique methods of salt production have been driven out of business by the march of industrialisation. Today there is a strong movement back to these artisan techniques of salt production.

Salt remains the most under-valued food ingredient and at the same time, the ingredient with the biggest potential.

(2) Northern Rhodesia is present-day Zambia and Southern Rhodesia is present-day Zimbabwe. (Gray, W, 2007: 20)

(3) Betsuhana Land is present-day Botswana.

(4) Negotiation started with Roelcor in 2013 to take over half of an existing meat factory to be used as the production facility for Woodys Consumer Brands (Pty) Ltd.

References

Andersen, J. C. (1928). Myths and Legends of the Polynesians. Dover Publications.
“Background Note: Vanuatu”. US Department of State. Archived from the original on 13 May 2008.
Bitterman, M. (2010). Salted: A Manifesto on the World’s Most Essential Mineral, with Recipes. Ten Speed Press.
Bud, R. & Warner, D. J. (1998). Instruments of science. The Science Museum, London and the National Museum of American History.
Burley, D. V., Tache, K., Purser, P., Balenaivalu, R. J. (2011). An archaeology of salt production in Fiji. ANTIQUITY 85: 187–200. http://antiquity.ac.uk/ant/085/ant0850187.htm
Campbell, J. (1822). “A narrative of the second journey in the interior of that country.” Francis Wesley.
Deacon, H. J. (1993). Planting an Idea: An Archaeology of Stone Age Gatherers in South Africa. The South African Archaeological Bulletin, Vol. 48, No. 158 (Dec., 1993), pp. 86-93. South African Archaeological Society. DOI: 10.2307/3888947. Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/3888947
Denbow, J. (1986). A New Look at the Later Prehistory of the Kalahari. Journal of African History, 27, pp. 3-28. Printed in Great Britain.
Dupuyoo, Jean-Michel (2007). Notes on the Uses of Metroxylon in Vanuatu. PALMS 51(1): 31–38.
Flad, R., Zhu, J., Wang, C., Chen, P., von Falkenhausen, L., Sun, Z., & Li, S. (2005). Archaeological and chemical evidence for early salt production in China. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences of the United States of America, 102(35), 12618–12622. http://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.0502985102
Gray, W. (2007). Zambia and Victoria Falls. New Holland Publishers.
Haberkorn, G. (1992). Temporary versus Permanent Population Mobility in Melanesia: A Case Study from Vanuatu. The International Migration Review; Vol. 26, No. 3 (Autumn, 1992), pp. 806-842.
Henshilwood, C. S., & Marean, C. W. (2003). The Origin of Modern Human Behavior: Critique of the Models and Their Test Implications. Current Anthropology 44(5):627-651. DOI: 10.1086/377665
Högberg, A., & Lombard, M. (2016). Still Bay Point-Production Strategies at Hollow Rock Shelter and Umhlatuzana Rock Shelter and Knowledge-Transfer Systems in Southern Africa at about 80-70 Thousand Years Ago. PLOS ONE. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0168012
Huang, Fu–san (2005). A Brief History of Taiwan: A Sparrow Transformed into a Phoenix. Taipei: Government Information Office.
Hyde, A., Bliss, F. C., & Tyler, J. (1876). The Life and Life-work of Dr. David Livingstone. Columbian Book Company.
Johnston, H. (1914). Pioneers in South Africa. Blackie and Son Ltd, London.
Laszlo, P. (1998). Salt, Grain of Life. Columbia University Press.
Lichtenstein, H. (1803). Travels in Southern Africa. Translated from German by Anne Plumptre. Henry Colburn.
Livingstone, D. (2002). The Life and African Explorations of Dr. David Livingstone. Cooper Square Press.
Matisoo-Smith, L., & Denny, M. (2010). LENScience Senior Biology Seminar Series Rethinking Polynesian Origins: Human Settlement of the Pacific. Liggins Institute. http://LENS.auckland.ac.nz
Matshetshe, K. (1998). Salt production and salt trade in the Makgadikgadi Pans. Pula: Botswana Journal of African Studies vol. 15 no