Why this salt earns its place
Salt is the one thing on a table that gets used at almost every cover, so the shaker has to be obvious and it has to work. Clear glass makes it readable: a guest identifies it without turning it round to find a label, and a member of staff can see the level from a pace away rather than lifting and shaking each one during a reset. The 110 mm height is the practical bit — enough body to grip and use one-handed while the other hand is holding a fork, short enough to sit under a plate rim without going over when the table gets busy.
Salt is also the fussier of the two things a cruet holds, because it pulls moisture out of the air. In a warm, steamy room a shaker that went out free-running on Friday can be solid by Sunday, and the fix is habit rather than equipment: fill in small amounts, wash and dry the glass completely before it is refilled, and keep the stock somewhere dry rather than on a shelf above the pass. Buying in twelves supports that. A dozen dresses a room in one matched set and leaves spares behind the bar, so a broken or clogged shaker is swapped out mid-service instead of leaving a table short.
