I love simple pleasures. I was reminded of this today as I crushed a few flakes of Maldon Sea Salt between my fingers over the open face of a cherry tomato, and then popped it into my mouth.
The burst of flavor that comes from a good tomato and just the right amount of salt instantly brings a smile to my face. It tastes like summer on the Amalfi Coast; a perfect blend of land and sea.
The right amount isn’t precise—it’s a pinch, and that pinch is your pinch. When Samin Nosrat tells you to salt your water until it tastes like the summer sea, it’s the summer sea you remember.
The perfect point on a pencil. A warm bath and a book. A yolk like liquid gold. Tea at just the right temperature. Soap that lathers just the right amount. Some of the best things in life are small and simple. They feel right, somehow; like there’s no other way they should be.
Taking pleasure in these things—real pleasure, that you stop and savor—creates a rich life, I think. None of the expensive things that I own bring me as much joy as a perfectly salted tomato. None of them beats that first sip of tea, on a cold evening, that warms from within.
How often do you stop to savor these moments; to let them linger for a few seconds? I don’t stop often enough, or for long enough. This is a reminder to me—and to you, if you need it—to do so more often.