the miracle of NaCl

This holiday has been wonderful. Quiet, somewhat contemplative and satisfying. My favorite memories: clipping my daughter's short hair on the porch; sitting with my son in the wee hours while he played video games and I waited for my digestive system to stop reminding me that cheese is not my friend; kissing Barbara at midnight (or thereabouts) on New Year's Eve—a sweet kiss familiar with our years together and fresh with the potential of what is around the corner; conversations in Spanish with my father; looking at house plans with our daughter—imagining how moving a wall or a door might affect the way our home "works" with the people in it.

This holiday season also affirms for the umpteenth time how salt water is the answer. We are made of it. Salt water in the form of tears cleanses us. Swimming in the ocean can be a tonic. Drinking water with some salt in it can do miraculous things to a stogey digestive system. On and on. I'm a big fan. I've even discovered the Salt Institute website. And now enters: brining. We made the most fabulous turkey and roast pork loin by following the canon of America's Test Kitchen God, Christopher Kimbell, and the holy salt water soaking ritual. It was so fabulous that my son says he's convinced that brining everything is the answer. Apple pie? Pancakes? Sausage biscuit? Drop'em in the saline.