I love this expression and its somewhat arcane origins. Salt once had such value that wages were paid in it. I, for one, could not live without the stuff. Having taken you through alternatives to sugar yesterday, I suppose the correct symmetry would have me talking about salt substitutes here, such as they are—soy sauce or even Mrs. Dash, I suppose. But instead I'm going to wax lyrical about my favorite salts. Oh, come off it, you're saying, right? Once it hits your tongue, one salt's the same as the next. Not so. Both texture and taste can vary quite a bit from one salt to another. There's always kosher on hand in my kitchen but it's relegated to the back of the cupboard. I cook with fine sea salt and use all types of flavored and finishing salts to accent dishes. Call me a salt snob, if you will. I'll take it as a compliment.
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Gnocchi means "lumps" in Italian. Not an especially glamorous name, and one that doesn't seem to fit something so ethereal in texture. This traditional Italian dish has been around for a couple of thousand years at least, spread through Europe by the Roman Legions and made according to whatever was at hand: potatoes, wheat flour, semolina, bread crumbs, ricotta. The French even make a version with choux pastry, but that's neither here nor there. I make mine with a delicious sheep's-milk ricotta and serve them with brown butter and a light sprinkling of smoked sea salt and tangy tomato powder. I suspect they may suffer slightly from the addition of gluten-free flour. They were perhaps not as light and springy as they will be for you, using unbleached all-purpose flour. Next time, I may try gnudi instead, as they call for even less flour (but also require that you drain the cheese and refrigerate the dough at several points), or perhaps just pair the gnocchi with a heartier sauce (roasted tomato? porcini?) that can stand up to the slightly denser texture.
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