In Praise of Salt

Happy Sunday morning my dudersons. Or whatever time it is when you’re reading this.

Let’s talk about salt.

Not metaphorical salt.

Not internet beef.

I mean the real, tangible, pure stuff—on steak, on chips, in your soul.

I fucking love salt. The more the better. Always have. Always will.

It’s such a simple ingredient—but it makes everything taste more alive. It doesn’t try to be fancy.

Basic. Natural. Ancient. Honest.

This morning I’m eating toast with Bovril, and it’s hitting just right. Salty, rich, unapologetic. Exactly how I like my mornings.

There’s something beautiful about ingredients that don’t lie to you. Salt doesn’t try to impress—it just enhances. It knows its worth. It knows its power. And it knows that without it, food would be lifeless.

Same goes for people. Give me the ones who bring flavor. Who don’t pretend. Who come in strong and leave you better.

And okay—look.

I know too much salt is bad for you. But so is everything if you do it wrong.

Life isn’t about cutting things out, it’s about getting the balance right.

Drink your water.

Eat your toast.

Cry when it feels good.

Laugh when it hurts.

That’s how we season life properly.

Salt reminds me that simplicity is underrated. We’re always chasing complex ideas, elaborate solutions, grand narratives. But sometimes, all you need is a pinch of the right thing.

And let’s be honest—salt is the one thing holding some of your favorite meals together. Without it? Bland. Flat. Uninspired. Just like some Instagram influencers.

Also—and this is important—I would trust a person who loves salt more than someone who doesn’t. It’s a red flag if you’re scared of flavor. What else are you scared of? Emotions? Eye contact? The truth?

Anyway. I’ve talked too long.

Or maybe not long enough.

Either way, I need to go finish this toast before it gets sad and cold.

More soon. I’m just getting warmed up.

Talk salty – matt

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