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For the longest time I never understood why every baking recipe always called for a teaspoon or two of salt, even if the baked good was sweet. It just seemed weird that you’d add salt to your cookie dough, for example. But, when you think about how salt brings out the flavor in foods, it makes sense why you’d add just a little to your baked goods. With that said though, salt is a pretty interesting seasoning, from how it’s made, all its various uses, to all of the different kinds of salt.

And, what about the history of salt? Salt, the unassuming white crystals that grace our dining tables, has long been more than a mere condiment. Derived from sodium chloride, it is the only rock we consume, essential for human survival as it regulates bodily fluids, nerve impulses, and muscle function. Without it, life as we know it would cease. Yet, beyond its biological necessity, salt has woven itself into the fabric of human history, serving as a catalyst for trade routes, the spark for wars, and even the foundation of empires. From ancient licks where animals gathered to modern industrial refineries, salt’s story is one of ingenuity, greed, and profound cultural resonance.

The history of salt begins in the mists of prehistory, long before written records captured its significance. Archaeological evidence points to its use as early as 6050 BC in what is now Romania, where communities boiled spring water in rudimentary pottery to extract the precious mineral.

This process, known as evaporation, marked humanity’s first deliberate pursuit of salt, transforming it from a natural curiosity into a controlled resource. Earlier still, around 8000 BC, hunter-gatherers in regions like the Middle East and Europe likely obtained salt incidentally through the consumption of blood-rich meats or by following animal trails to natural salt deposits, or “licks.” These licks were vital; animals craved the mineral for the same physiological reasons humans did, and early people observed and emulated them. As agriculture emerged around 10,000 years ago, the shift to plant-based diets, low in natural sodium, made deliberate salt procurement essential. Vegetables and grains, staples of the Neolithic Revolution, required seasoning and preservation, thrusting salt into the role of a dietary savior.

By the dawn of recorded history, salt had ascended to economic and symbolic heights. The earliest written mention appears in the Bible’s Book of Job, circa 2250 BC, where it symbolizes purity and covenant: “Can that which is unsavory be eaten without salt?”

In ancient Mesopotamia, Sumerians around 4000 BC mined salt from evaporated lake beds and traded it along nascent routes that would evolve into the Silk Road. Egypt’s pharaohs, obsessed with mummification, relied on natron—a naturally occurring salt mixture—for desiccating the dead, ensuring the soul’s journey to the afterlife. This ritualistic use elevated salt to divine status; priests and embalmers formed guilds around its extraction from Nile Valley oases. Meanwhile, in China, salt production dates back to 2000 BC, with bamboo pipelines siphoning brine from wells in Sichuan province. The Zhou Dynasty (1046–256 BC) monopolized salt taxes, funding armies and granaries, foreshadowing its role as a fiscal weapon. Legends abound: one tale credits the Yellow Emperor with discovering salt by tasting seawater, while another attributes boiling techniques to mythical empresses.

The classical world amplified salt’s geopolitical clout. In ancient Greece, city-states like Athens imported it from afar, using it to cure olives and fish—cornerstones of the Mediterranean diet. Solon’s laws in 594 BC regulated salt trade to prevent hoarding, recognizing its potential for speculation. But it was Rome where salt truly saluted its worth. The word “salary” derives from “salarium,” the salted rations paid to legionaries, later commuted to coinage.

Rome’s vast empire depended on salt roads, like the Via Salaria, which snaked from Ostia to the Apennines, hauling the mineral from coastal pans. Emperors from Augustus onward imposed salt taxes (salinae), amassing fortunes that built aqueducts and coliseums. Yet this monopoly bred rebellion; the Gauls revolted in 154 BC partly over Roman salt controls, and later, in 73 AD, Spartacus’s slave uprising targeted salt mines in Italy. Salt’s scarcity fueled innovation: Romans perfected solar evaporation in shallow pools lined with tiles, yielding fleur de sel for the elite while coarser grains fed the masses.

As empires crumbled, salt’s influence persisted through the Middle Ages. In Europe, feudal lords guarded saltpans along the Atlantic, bartering it for gold and spices during the Crusades. The Hanseatic League, a medieval trade confederation, shipped Baltic sea salt to inland markets, fostering urban growth—settlements sprang up near saltworks, evolving into cities like Liverpool and Venice.

In West Africa, the Sahara’s salt caravans—laden with slabs from Taghaza mines—traded ounce-for-ounce with Saharan gold, birthing trans-Saharan commerce that linked Timbuktu to Morocco. Islamic scholars, drawing on Greek texts, advanced salt’s medicinal lore; Avicenna’s Canon of Medicine (1025 AD) prescribed it for digestion and wound care, blending empirical observation with alchemy.

The Age of Exploration turbocharged salt’s global saga. Columbus’s voyages were partly motivated by salt’s preservative power for long sea journeys, allowing crews to stock salted cod and pork without spoilage. European powers colonized coasts worldwide for salt: the Portuguese dominated Cape Verde’s pans, the Spanish claimed Caribbean salinas, and the British fortified India’s salt flats. This era’s dark underbelly was exploitation; in the Caribbean, enslaved Africans toiled in brutal Jamaican saltworks, their labor underwriting sugar empires. Taxation became tyrannical: France’s gabelle, a salt levy dating to 1343, sparked peasant revolts like the 1540s Croquant uprising, where farmers stormed tax offices. In Britain, the 1640 Salt Riot in Cheshire echoed these grievances amid Civil War chaos.

The Enlightenment and Industrial Revolution mechanized salt’s harvest. In 1775, French pharmacist Nicolas Leblanc invented a process to produce soda ash from salt, fueling the chemical industry and glassmaking. Abraham Lincoln’s 1840s Illinois salt boils powered the Civil War’s canning efforts, preserving Union rations. Yet salt’s story intertwined with resistance: India’s 1930 Salt March, led by Mahatma Gandhi, defied British monopoly by marching 240 miles to evaporate seawater, galvanizing independence with a simple act of civil disobedience.

In the 20th century, salt’s narrative shifted from scarcity to abundance. World Wars rationed it for explosives (via chlorine gas production), while postwar booms saw vacuum evaporation towers yield iodized table salt, combatting goiter epidemics. Today, over 200 million tons are mined annually, from Polish rock salt veins—remnants of ancient seas—to Australian solar ponds.

Yet echoes of its past linger: environmental debates rage over Dead Sea extraction depleting water tables, and gourmet revivals celebrate Celtic gray salt or Himalayan pink crystals, harking back to artisanal roots.

The Processes to Make Salt

There are 3 different processes used to make salt. All salt is naturally occurring, so making it just means extracting it. Salt is made either by:

• Evaporation of salt water.
• Mining salt from the earth.
• Creating salt brines.

Each different method results in a different textured salt each with different flavors.

Uses of Salt

We’ve all used salt to season our foods (and even our baked goods), but the uses for salt don’t end there. According to the Salt Association, the following are some unique uses for salt.

• Keeps milk fresh longer – Add a pinch and shake well.
• Makes coffee less bitter – A pinch improves the flavor.
• Alleviates sore throats – Warm water and salt reduces inflammation and bacteria when gargled.
• Makes eggs easier to peel – Add a teaspoon of salt to the water you boil your eggs in.
• Tests the freshness of eggs – Put an egg in 2 teaspoons of salt and a cup of water. If it floats, its bad, if it sinks its fresh.
• Acts as a stain remover – Put salt on top of a stain after you’ve wiped up as much as possible. The salt absorbs excess moisture.
• Gets rid of odors – Pour salt into something smelly and leave overnight, the salt absorbs excess moisture and odor.
• Defrosts windows – Wipe windows both inside and out with salt water and wipe off the excess.
• Alleviates puffy eyes – Mix salt with hot water and apply to puffy under eyes to draw out moisture and tighten skin.
• Exfoliates skin – Mix salt with olive oil and scrub skin with it to hydrate skin and remove dead skin cells.

Salt Choices

When you go to get salt to use, you’ll find that there are so many kinds of salt to choose from. But we’ll go over the main three and all their differences below.

• Sea salt – Sea salt is literally from the sea, as it’s made from evaporating the salt out of sea water. It is the most natural kind of salt, as it doesn’t undergo any refining process to remove any other minerals.
• Table salt – Table salt is made mostly from sodium and chloride with other elements such as cobalt, calcium, iron, potassium, magnesium, selenium, zinc, and others. This kind of salt is typically mined from underground deposits.
• Himalayan salt – Himalayan salt is mined from salt mines in Pakistan. Like sea salt, Himalayan salt isn’t processed to remove minerals. In fact, it gets its pink color from minerals such as copper, calcium, and magnesium. It has a mild and slightly sweet flavor compared to other salts.

Other differences in salts comes down to shape and how coarse or fine the salt is, such as kosher salt, rock salt, extra fine popcorn salt and others.

Dietitians say that there really aren’t any health differences between any type of salt, especially considering that we don’t consume a whole lot each day. So, feel free to use whatever kind fits best with your own personal preferences.

For more health-related articles, check out the Fill Your Plate blog!

By Heide Kennedy, recent Arizona Farm Bureau Communications Intern