Monday and morning should never occur in the same sentence together, or even the same time zone for that matter. But they do.
Life would be so much easier if we could just lounge about in our unmentionables and enjoy life at a more relaxing and agreeable pace. No one understands that frustration more than your humble paludier. Your who?!?!?
Your paludier. Did you think those delicious salts we have been sharing with you week after week, month after month just magically appeared? No, of course you didn’t, but it is Monday morning and so you probably weren’t about to give any serious thought to where your salt has been coming from. You have more important things to consider… like… coffee.
Then again, most don’t give much thought to where their coffee comes from either. Where did the beans grow? How long were they allowed to ripen? When were they picked? How long were they allowed to dry before they were roasted? Were they allowed to dry at all?
Your unrefined sea salts are very much the same. Where was the salt crafted? Were they top growth crystals? Bottom growth crystals (dig deep into your science class memories – do you remember growing salt crystals)? When were they collected? How long were they allowed to dry?
All of these things are known and understood by your paludier. They are artisans in the truest sense of the word. A touch so light Degas would be proud. Engineering skills that Da Vinci could spend years studying, and a keen sense of smell that tells him when to put all of those things to use.
You see, a paludier’s greatest work is that of capturing Fleur de Sel in it’s few brief hours of existence. It’s crystals grow quickly on the top of the ponds in the marsais de sel (that’s salt marsh to you and me). As it’s crystals grow, the air is filled with the sweet smell of flowers – violets actually.
It is this unique aroma that gives the world’s finest salt it’s name, because Fleur de Sel literally translates to “flower of salt”. Imagine lazily sipping coffee in the beautiful French countryside, hearing the sounds of the ocean in the south of France as you take in the fresh country air. Your nose catches the hint of violets. You hastily throw back the rest of your coffee, grab your ramasse-viel and surveillant as you head out to collect the newly formed salt crystals responsible for that smell. So much for a relaxing morning…
The humble paludier recognizes the great masterpiece that this particular salt represents and so without hesitation (whether it’s Monday morning or not) runs out to the oeillets (sometimes even in their unmentionables) to gather up those delicious crystals at the first hint of of the aroma of flowers. It’s hard work in the hot sun.
Maybe Monday’s and mornings aren’t so bad after all.