The Salt Wagon
If you're gonna fall off the salt wagon, there's no better block to catch your fall.
Hi, I'm Stephanie, and I'm a salt-a-holic.
It's been three days since my last salting.
:::CLAP CLAP CLAP:::
Like many of you, it all started for me with table salt. Then when I was only 13, I graduated to kosher and sea salt. By the time I was 16, I was eating rock salt off icy winter sidewalks. You could say that's when I really hit rock salt bottom.
:::CHUCKLES AND GROANS:::
Anyway, I was 18 when I scored my first Himalayan Salt Cooking Tile. My family knew I had a problem, but they didn't want to admit it. Even when it was right there in front of them, displaying chilled fruits, vegetables and sushi. Sometimes I'd even put it in the oven for about 15 minutes to get it nice and hot, and then cook, sear and season my meat on it.
After everyone went home I'd tell myself, "Stephanie, you're simply going to wipe the salt tile with a towel to clean it. You don't need to do anything else." And that's when it'd happen. "Just one little lick," I'd say. "Just one won't hurt."
But of course it never stops at one. Next it's two. Then five. Then before you know what happened, that salt block is getting a full-on tongue bath and you wake up in the hospital with blood pressure through the roof and cotton mouth that just won't quit booohoooohaaaawaaaaaa ...
So that's why I'm here. I'm going to kick this salt habit once and for … OOH! It comes with a canvas bag? See ya, suckers!