Training Bra Spices and the Tyranny of Salt: Lessons from a Simple Ragout

I do hope all of the brand name, pricey seasoning salts and rubs are a training bra like introduction to a more robust and full bodied world of flavor. But that’s kind of beside the point, as is the picture posted with this entry. I mean, I’ve promised a ragout and what you see is nothing of the sort.

The chicken is here mostly because the picture turned out reasonably well. It’s here because it too tells a story about the tyranny of salt. It’s a simple one. We are so over salted that good home cooking is constantly threatened with ruin.

For the most part, the foundation for the meals we cook has already been set before we turn on the stove or fire up the grill. We plant and harvest, hunt and gather mostly in our grocery store. Some foods are fresh. Many are not. If we’re not careful that can of condensed cream of mushroom soup, which we might hope to coax and cajole into a delicious Stroganoff sauce, can be our downfall.

A ragout made long ago -- simply with canned tomatoes, tomato sauce, red cooking wine, green peppers, mushroom, an onion, Italian sausage and spices -- turned out so salty as to be inedible. It’s possible I garliced it with garlic salt too. I was young once and foolish. But there is a lesson in it.

Salt is our first spice. It’s our universal spice, and a good thing in moderation. It enlivens flavor. It is a preservative. And importantly our bodies need it. We are physiologically predisposed to like eating things with a dash of salt, and sometimes much more that simple dash. The salted glass is important part of what makes a margarita a margarita after all.

Salt makes things universally tasty without undue controversy. A can of tomato sauce seasoned simply with salt will offend no one. The same cannot be said of tarragon for example, which if found regularly spicing cans of generic tomato sauce might be offensive to some and almost universally cursed, as in “my god, why can’t they make tomato sauce without adding tarragon.”

So the good people who make canned tomato sauce season it simply with salt. The same is true of the good people who can the tomatoes, bottle the cooking wine and make the Italian sausage. They make things that are tasty to all and offensive to none.

Yet trying to make a savory sauce with tarragon using these basic ingredients only solicits a different curse. “My god, why can’t they make a simple tomato sauce without all the salt?” Too much salt can also be offensive.

In taking all of these things and adding them together to make the stew, we pile salt upon salt upon salt. Should we go so far as to let the stew simmer and reduce it to a sauce that clings to the pasta, we will have made a sauce so salty as to choke a horse. In short, our pantries are lorded over by an army of well intentioned tyrants seeking to satisfy us mostly with salt. Their V-8 juice is a wonderful beverage. As braising liquid for making goulash, it’s positively poisoned with salt.  

(Though, I do know many who like things this way and who will shake more salt on anything served even before the first bite. Not a jar of dried tarragon will be found on their spice shelf. In fact very few spices will be found on their spice shelves. Those that do are mostly some sort of spiced salt. Garlic salt comes to mind. And small industries have arisen from the mixing of vast quantities of salt with small quantities of other spices. They create extremely profitable brand name seasoning salts and rubs. These have their place. Hot, freshly fried potato chips, served with a variety of seasoning salts are delicious. Though it’s better to home mix a seasoning salt for a specific dish, least the spice rack becomes overrun with them.)

The best advise is to buy "no salt added" or "low sodium" products when stocking the pantry with staples. Under no circumstances buy that which is labeled "cooking wine."
It has been adulterated horribly with salt so that it can be sold as a generic cooking ingredient rather than an alcoholic beverage. The wine used for cooking should be a pleasant beverage in it's own right.

Now to the chicken in the picture, here is the story behind it. The first question of the day always is what’s for supper. The answer that day was a Cornish game hen in the freezer. The rest of the answer came from other things at hand when it came time to cook the thing. There is no hard and fast recipe here. Just an outline of how this delicious dish came to be.

In the refrigerator there was a fresh pineapple and a green pepper. On hand were a bag of onions, a bottle of soy sauce, canned low sodium chicken broth, pineapple juice, a variety of curries, vinegars and rice. In all, I was good to go.

One six ounce can of pineapple juice, about two ounces of rice vinegar, the same with soy sauce and generous teaspoon of Thai curry paste became a marinade. The salt in this dish is from the soy sauce. The hen was cut in two with the ribs and backbone removed, then soaked in the marinade for about an hour.

While that was soaking, I seeded can quartered the pepper, cut a few large chunks of pineapple, peeled and cut two small onions in half then skewered these for the grill. I roasted the hens on a covered grill in a pan with marinade for about forty minutes, then added the skewered vegetables and more liquid to roasting hen (a little low sodium chicken broth). I let the whole business bake in the covered grill for another half hour. Meanwhile, I started the rice.

When the rice was done, I seared the hen over the open flame for about a minute per side and removed it to a platter with the grilled vegetables. I thickened the pan juices into a mild sweet-sour curry glaze with a cornstarch wash. I snapped a quick photo, divided the rice, roasted game hen and roasted vegetables to two plates. Covered all with the glaze and Rita and I feasted on a four star Cornish hen dinner. 

Now, back to the subject of salt. The trick is to know where it’s coming from. In cooking the hen, it came from the soy sauce. The same is true with many things and rightly so: bacon, sauerkraut, soup base and bouillon cubes. In many other things it is unnecessarily so.

In the following ragout recipe, there is enough salt in the Italian sausage to season the dish.    

A good Italian sausage sparkles with traditional Italian seasoning, plus – and this plus is huge – caraway. Unfortunately, good Italian sausage will not likely be found at a typical grocery store. The Italian sausage there is mildly spiced with traditional Italian seasoning and void of caraway. It will be heavily seasoned with salt to make up for the flavor that is otherwise lacking. It appeals to most everyone and is spiced in a way to offend no one. Sausage seasoned with caraway puts some people off. Subsequently, commercial sausage makers are reluctant to make it that way.

The following recipe builds upon the goodness and shortcoming of the sausage – abundant in salt, stingy with traditional Italian spices and silent on caraway. 

For this ragout for four you will need:

1 lb Italian sausage links

26 oz box of chopped tomatoes

8 oz fresh mushrooms, cut in half if small or into quarters if large

¾ green pepper diced

1 medium onion diced

½ cup of dry red wine

2 Tbs olive oil

2 Tbs Italian seasoning

1 tsp minced garlic

1 ½   tsp caraway seed

1 tsp oregano

1 tsp basil

2 bay leaves

8 ounces of uncooked Rotini

Tomato paste if needed

Salt and Pepper to taste

Grated Parmesan and/or Romano cheese (preferably fresh)

In a deep skillet precook the Italian sausage links in the olive oil until firm. Remove pan from heat. When the links are cool enough to handle cut into bite sized pieces. Return the pan to the burner and continue to brown the sausage. Add the mushroom and garlic and continue to sauté until the mushrooms are lightly browned. Add the tomatoes, red wine and spices bring to a boil and then reduce to simmer.

Pre-boil the Rotini to soften slightly, then drain and add to the skillet with the diced onion and green pepper, add liquid if needed (wine or chicken broth). Continue to simmer until pasta and green pepper are cooked al dente. Adjust seasoning. If necessary thicken sauce with tomato paste.

Serve generously topped with grated Parmesan and Romano cheese.