Pinching Salt

Recently, I was diagnosed with high blood pressure. My doctor prescribed low-dose diuretics, exercise, and a low-sodium diet. Normally, I avoid prescription medicines, but the diuretics – and the exercise – were a must. Only two weeks after that initial appointment, results of implementing just these two recommendations were apparent in significantly reduced blood pressure.

The only remaining challenge – other than finding the early morning motivation to rise and exercise – was in figuring out how to decrease sodium intake. For years now, we've been altering the foods we eat to serve this and other healthful purposes: buying far fewer (if any) pre-packaged foods, mixes, sauces, stock, etc.; quitting soda consumption altogether; and very seldom buying junk foods (potato chips, fast foods, etc.) Most of what we eat is made "from scratch" and we often make recipe substitutions (or alterations) to reduce sodium, trans- and hydrolyzed-vegetable fats and sugar. There are few components of our diet that we haven't tweaked to make healthier. Even boiling water for pasta is much less saline than it once was.

So, where hadn't we adjusted sodium intake? After thoroughly examining our diet, I found the one area we hadn't touched: the salt shaker. And its use makes actual intake so much harder to gauge. Just how much salt is sprinkled to pre-season meat? Just how much is added on the dinner plate?

Hoping to consume less sodium, I considered switching to a commercial brand of seasoning salt. However, when I researched the available products, I became discouraged. Each brand contained some ingredient we avoid. One label seemed misleading, too. A popular brand contains sugar but, rather than list that carbohydrate on the nutritional label, it omits that category altogether.

Instead, I decided to make our own, and found a very tasty recipe online (About.com: Seasoned Salt recipe). The recipe suggests garlic and celery salts, but I used garlic powder and celery seeds. Even with these adjustments, the mixture is still 75% sodium. However, that's 25% less than regular table salt and, since we're now measuring the use of this substitute, we're consuming much less added sodium than ever before. Each "smidgen" (1/32 teaspoon) contains approximately 55 mg of sodium. General recommendations for daily sodium intake are between 2 and 3 grams (2000-3000 mg), so each smidgen is equivalent to 2.75% of the lower suggested amount. I went a step further and halved the amount of salt used in the recipe, effectively decreasing those percentages while still delivering a delicious flavour profile.

Flavour is, after all, the reason the salt shaker was being used. This mixture (even the 37.5% sodium blend) packs a huge flavour-punch! Wherever possible, it now replaces regular salt in daily cooking and makes sodium-reduced meals unusually delectable. Better yet, unlike commercial brands, this home-made seasoned salt contains: no MSG; no sugar; no flavour- or colour-enhancers; no fillers (like corn starch), no hydrolyzed vegetable protein, no lecithin (of which hubby is very sensitive), and, no anti-clumping chemicals (such as tricalcium sulphate.) Another benefit of preparing home-made seasonings isn't, perhaps, immediately apparent. The recent, massive recall of pre-packaged spice blends was stark illustration of other possible and uncontrollable health risks in consuming commercial blends. None of the whole and powdered spices we use in this concoction were involved in that recall.

Now that I've tried this mixture, I'm (almost) happy for the diagnosis that prompted its discovery. It tastes so good that hubby is now using it, too. A startling result as he once used the salt shaker with abandon. This seasoning, though intended only for my welfare, is also reducing hubby's sodium intake...no nagging required!

Confessions of a Stocker

I admit it. I'm a stocker. It all started innocently enough with a simple home-made chicken soup, but quickly escalated to stocking rice pilaffs, wine reductions and seafood chowders. It's become an obsession. I can't shop for certain groceries without envisioning their stocking potential.

Ham – joint-in of course – makes a delicious stock for split-pea soup. A turkey is mentally stripped of its roasted meat, its carcass tossed in a stock pot with Mirepoix (onions, celery and carrots.) A whole fish or in-the-shell shellfish and I fantasize about Bouillabaisse.

But this is more than just another foodie obsession. Stocking is frugal activity. No, really! If you want healthy, flavourful meals on a budget, then stocking is the way to achieve it. Good stock not only enhances the flavour of meals, the natural gelatine has wonderful health benefits. Perhaps the most frugal aspect of stocking is that nothing goes to waste. Any leftover bones with a little meat on them can provide a few cups of stock that could later enhance some ramen noodles with veg. When vegetables age faster than they're eaten, they can be tossed into a stock pot together with some onion, celery and carrot, and brewed into a completely vegetarian stock – a light and flavourful addition to brown rice pilaf.

For beef stock, alone, I buy bone. However, the cost of good soup bones varies radically, so I make my purchase when the quality is highest – good amount of meat on or marrow in the bones – and when prices are lowest. Meaty beef bones need browning in a hot oven before being added to Mirepoix and water, and produce high amounts of gelatine. On the rare occasion I find a bone-in beef roast, the leftovers are sure to hit the stock pot, though usually produce less gelatine than soup bones.

Brown stocks are made from cooked-meat and bones and clear stocks are made with raw-meat and bones, the latter producing greater amounts of gelatine. A whole stewing fowl – excellent flavour for much less cost (and fat skimming) than a fryer – can make several cups of clear stock and be price-competitive with popular store brands. Turkey legs can be a cost-effective choice for making clear turkey stock. Recently, we found whole, fresh turkeys and were able to butcher them at home. The breasts became roasts, the best leg, wing and back meat was run through the grinder to become lean and hearty turkey burger, and the remaining carcass went into a stock pot. That bird yielded two roasts (which, bought separately, would've cost the equivalent price of the whole turkey,) six pounds of burger, and sixteen cups of wiggly-giggly gold: clear turkey stock.

I won't stock in summer, though – that season is steamy enough! But, once stocking becomes obsession, even summer can't stop the yearning. And, not just any stock will do. Nothing – and I mean nothing! – compares to home-made stock. Store brands may do, in a pinch, but their flavours and textures are bland. If you want superior taste and texture, then home-made stocks produce the rich gelatine most store brands lack. Gelatine not only carries flavour molecules on a silky, savoury base, it's rich in valuable nutrients. Without the gelatine, flavours are elusive and the texture watery.

Water, however, is the base of every stock and quality must be considered. If your tap water tastes funky, the stock will too. Filtering water can solve this problem, so plan ahead and have 12-20 cups ready. About a half-hour into the simmer, impurities in the meat and bone will rise to the surface in the form of foam. Gently skim this from the surface. This process can take a long while but, once impurities no longer rise, seasoning can be added according to the base protein or featured vegetable. Bouquet Garni, a collection of complimentary herbs tied together with string, provide aromatic notes and subtler flavours than most spices. Flavours intensify as the stock reduces during its cooking time and, while certain seasonings are important additions, they should be used sparingly or whole. For instance, whole peppercorns add a subtler flavour and less heat than ground pepper will. Salt is essential in drawing out flavours but, as stocks are primarily ingredients in other dishes, limiting salt when making them better enables adjusting that common seasoning in those future dishes.

Stock freezes well, too. Up to three to four months. Remember to label and date the containers and cycle your stock for maximum freshness.

Those containers of gelatinous goodness will come in handy on cooler summer days – that's when my craving for risotto hits hardest. I'm stocking up now, before summer's swelter sets in. I figure several containers each of turkey, chicken, and beef stock, should get me through the season's comfort-food crises.