This is my resilience salt—rooted in gold beets, deep, earthy, and unflinching. It celebrates Kurdish culture across faith lines. It celebrates inclusion, shared experience, and deep-rooted kinship. It honors the difference between imperfection and meaning. It carries not just the ancestral memory of beet kubbeh—kubbeh selek (Hebrew), kubbeh shwandar (Arabic)—but also pays tribute to the first herb farmers I met near the northern Syrian border, in the Golan Heights. It was spring, the first time I saw greenhouses of chives blooming violet. The first time I met a Kurdish person. The first time I tasted beet kubbeh—shared with my friend, the young lion, Kfir. Since then, I’ve learned more of Kurdish culture, more of kubbeh. This salt is rooted in history and my herbal dreams of inclusion. Beets and beet greens ground it. Mint brings breath. Sorrel cuts with tangy defiance. Garlic, arugula, chives, fennel, parsley, cilantro create a soft herbal bed for black cumin—the seed of resistance. Sumac, cinnamon, Urfa biber, dried mint, toasted onion, and purple garlic build smoky, slow flavor. Crimson dianthus as blood red flecks. Kubbeh—changing name and form across the Middle East—reminds us: we can be different, and still the same. Use this on literally anything spring. Spanakopita for a creative twist or a citrus avocado salad for delicious melting gold beet blood delicacy. But especially on  Kubbeh, in all its regional names. Because resistance keeps them here.