This pays homage to the herbal holyland that shaped and amplified my herbal artistry, its bold, direct, and generous — the same forces unearthed in me all those years ago in Israel. Like Israelis, it gets straight to the point —pleasant complexity. It dissolves only to rebuild itself, over and over— flavor by flavor, seed by seed — each ingredient attempting to be more powerful yet never singular, nor oversimplified. It’s a coalition, a communal supporting of intricate entanglements. Cooling hot serrano heat, herb-tamed vibrancy, soft sesame intensity; green, seedy and defiant. Spicy and vibrant Yemeni Zhug Tahini made with sweet Ethiopian seeds is a vexed magic carpet, symbolizing the ancient act of grinding and winter’s friction to wakes what’s dormant. Proof that cultures and flavors wander, fuse, shape. Sesame seeds, black and white, comingling liberally with the coated salt flakes, adding to the convolution— mirroring the region’s long, complicated coexistence, also a nod to Brooklyn’s everything bagel. Nigella seeds of blessing sprinkled adequately give more intensity, more pleasant bitterness, a wake up to remind Americans of the potent, nature-forward flavor and reality of bitterness Middle Easterners are accustomed to. Minty, earthy, oniony, rebellious herbs power this paradox of fresh and light and potent and fierce. A taste of cultural terroir, ancient yet somehow just a snapshot from one herb girl’s passing through. This is not sidestepping politics, it’s a tasting of coalescence. This is your winter breakfast salt — eggs, shakshuka, avocado toast. It’s your falafel, roasted cauliflower, sabich and salmon salt — your power-and-complexity-on-everything salt.