Worth Its Salt

Every Shabbos night seudah at the Cohen household was special. This particular week, the air was thick with the aroma of kugel and roast chicken, but for Uncle Dov, there was one singular, pressing priority. He was ready. The glistening, braided challah loaf was firmly in his hand, the resonant bracha had been recited with customary gusto, and the chorus of “Amen” had barely faded. His stomach, an extremely reliable internal clock, was already rumbling its objection to any further delay. He lifted his knife, cut a perfect slice, and poised himself for a moment of pure, carby satisfaction. But as he scanned the length of the heirloom mahogany table, the moment shattered. The tiny, silver-capped glass saltshaker was nowhere near him. His eyes finally located it, far across the crowded landscape of fine china. It was firmly, almost militantly, clutched in the hand of his youngest niece, Chaya, who was completely oblivious to the silent crisis unfolding at the head of the table. Uncle Dov, a man who prided himself on patience, began a quiet campaign. First came the gentle cough, a subtle clearing of the throat. Then the pointed glance, alternating carefully between the challah in his hand, the empty space beside his plate, and the shaker in Chaya’s grip. Still nothing. Finally, he escalated to silent dramatics. Leaning forward, he caught Chaya’s eye and mouthed the word “salt!” with the deliberate over-articulation and expressive intensity of a stage actor. The effort strained his facial muscles, but it worked. The little shaker began its slow, deliberate journey toward him. When it finally reached his waiting hand, Uncle Dov let out a gasp of relief. He sprinkled a little salt onto his piece and then savored the crisp exterior and fluffy interior, now perfectly seasoned. He leaned back in his chair like a man who had faced adversity and emerged victorious, releasing a deep, contented sigh. Was all this drama necessary? Was his conduct halachically correct? No. The Gemara in Berachos teaches that salt must be brought to the table before one recites Hamotzi. Two explanations are offered by the Rishonim, cited by the Acharonim, and both are brought by the Mishnah Berurah (167:27). The first reason, quoted in the name of the Shulchan Aruch HaRav, is a matter of kavod habracha. The bread upon which Hamotzi is recited should be eaten in a dignified and enjoyable manner. If throughout the meal one eats bread with salt, but the very piece used for the bracha is eaten plainly, that would reflect poorly on the blessing itself. The second reason, cited by the Vilna Gaon, is more practical. If the salt is not nearby, one may be tempted to say, “Pass the salt” after reciting Hamotzi. This is forbidden, as one may not make any interruption between the bracha and eating the bread. Therefore, Chazal required that salt be on the table beforehand to avoid a hefsek. While it is true that bedieved, even if one did ask for the salt after Hamotzi, the bracha would still be valid, Chazal did not want reliance on bedieved situations. The Shulchan Aruch rules that today this halacha is no longer strictly applicable. Our challah is sufficiently tasty on its own and does not require salt. Nevertheless, the Mishnah Berurah permits a brief pause before Hamotzi for salt or a different dip. However, after the bracha, one should certainly not wait even for a moment. If the salt was not near Uncle Dov, he should have simply eaten the challah as is. The Torah states, “Al kol korbancha takriv melach,” on all your offerings you shall offer salt (Vayikra 2:13). The Gemara in Menachos (20a) explains that salting every korban and mincha is a mitzvah. The Rambam rules that a korban brought without salt is invalid. Chazal teach that our table is compared to the mizbe’ach. Accordingly, the Rema (167:5) rules that it is a mitzvah to have salt on the table before reciting Hamotzi, paralleling the mizbe’ach. He adds that this serves as a segulah for protection. One fulfills this mitzvah simply by having salt on the table. There is no requirement to actually put salt on the challah. The Mishnah Berurah cites a custom al pi Kabbalah to dip the challah three times in salt. Granted, bedieved his actions were acceptable and no new bracha is required, but l’chatchilah we avoid all interruptions. Which means that next Shabbos night, Uncle Dov should check the table before making the bracha.