Bristol Bay Salmon: One Thing Leads to Another
October 9, 2014 § Leave a comment
Salmon. It’s what’s for dinner. And lunch. And well, even breakfast. From Safeway to Whole Foods to the local farmer’s market, you can find beautiful, fresh fillets or thick steaks of this healthful, tasty fish in hues ranging from bright orange to almost-red. While salmon is versatile — it holds up well to most cooking methods and pairs with a variety of flavors — the much-publicized health benefits of wild salmon have helped in making it a popular addition to the dining table. (Wild salmon is high in Omega-3’s, making it heart-healthy and an important source of brain-building nutrition.) Oh, and it’s delicious.
Fresh, wild sockey salmon fillets, purchased in the 650
Our Northern California salmon fishing season varies throughout the year, but you’re likely to find a regular supply of fresh, local, wild salmon if you know where to look. Need some ideas? Try Whole Foods, weekend farmer’s markets, or Cooks Seafood in Menlo Park. Not only do we have access to delicious wild salmon caught right off the Northern California coast, but from time to time Alaskan salmon from Copper River and Bristol Bay makes its way down the Pacific coast to our local suppliers.
I am an admitted salmon convert. When I was a kid, the only salmon I knew came in cans. In my limited, kidhood experience, the only difference between salmon and tuna was the color — pink, not grey — and sometimes the texture. Salmon was crunchier because there were usually some small bones ground in. This salmon is what my mother and my aunties used to make an Australian dinner-table staple: fish cakes. (Canned tuna was an option as well, but somehow the salmon version holds a larger place in my memory). Salmon cakes would be the core of a “lighter” cooked dinner — lighter than, say, steak or roast or lamb chops, which, most nights, were de rigueur for dinner. (British influence, much?) The recipe was simple: combine canned fish, egg, breadcrumbs, and a few herbs into patties. Then, coat them in more breadcrumbs and fry those babies in drippings (aka, lard) until the outsides are crispy and dark brown, occasionally brown-black. Serve with mashed potatoes and green vegetables, usually the boiled kind.
Fresh fish was not something my mother cooked. She came from a meat-potato-veg-for-dinner generation of Australian women who knew how to economize while still putting out a well-rounded, nightly dinner. Fish sticks, fish cakes, and Red Lobster shrimp cocktail were the limit of my seafood experience until high school, when I tried lox for the first time. I was well into adulthood when I first tried fresh salmon. I was amazed at what I’d been missing for so many years — a flavorful, healthy source of protein that was pulled right out of our West Coast waters!
If you’ve read this blog for a bit, then you know that I’m an advocate for knowing the source of your food — and better yet, for connecting with the producer of that food. What does that mean? It means starting a conversation — talking with farmers at your weekend market, or the manager at a family-run grocery store, or the person in charge of making food at your favorite local restaurant. But what about something like fish? How do you make that connection? When are you likely to run into a fisherman? I mean, most people buy fish, in a package, at the local grocery store (ok, stop that, by the way). But how do you find out the source of your fish: whether it’s farmed or wild, Pacific or Atlantic, sustainably fished or not, and so on? And do fish have seasons? And what does “local fish” mean? All good questions to ponder.
A new book by Paul Greenburg, American Catch: The Fight for Our Local Seafood, examines some of these questions. Greenburg knows his subject matter; he’s a passionate, lifelong fisherman (not just a consumer) and award-winning author who writes about the state of the American fish industry. The book is an important read for anyone who eats seafood, values sustainable seafood sources, or just wants a better understanding of the seafood we’re eating (or not eating) in this country. The third section of the book focuses on Alaska’s Bristol Bay, currently a rich and pristine source of Alaskan wild sockeye salmon. Within the past decade, Bristol Bay has been threatened by mining interests, potentially sending it the way of so many other natural, American wild-fish sources that have been ravaged by industrial interests.
I finished the book shortly before attending the IFBC conference in Seattle last month, so much of the content — and specifically Bristol Bay’s current issues — were still in my mind. Not to mention the fact that Greenburg made Bristol Bay’s sockeye salmon sound so utterly delicious that I was wondering when, if ever, I might have a chance to try it. (You see where this is going, right?) Yep, in a you-can’t-make-this-stuff-up experience, Bristol Bay sockeye salmon was featured at the IFBC 2014 opening reception. Seriously.
Three Seattle chefs created dishes that highlighted the versatility and flavor of the fish for attendees to try. Bristol Bay folks were on hand to talk about their salmon, as well as the potential risks to their fishing industry. It was an opportunity to taste this product I’d only read about, meet the people supporting it, and even participate in a little food activism. The dishes created by the chefs were tasty and approachable — not “fancy restaurant food,” but something you could cook and enjoy at home. Unfortunately, no recipes were provided, but you creative/adventurous cooks could probably reverse engineer them on your own.
Chef Kevin Davis’ grilled sockeye with tomatoes, sweet corn, and roasted heirloom chilies was a hearty, flavorful late-fall dish, that I could imagine enjoying with rice and a side salad.
Grilled Bristol Bay Sockeye Salmon with dry-farmed tomatoes, sweet corn, and roasted heirloom chilies, prepared by Chef Kevin Davis of Blueacre Seafood, Seattle
Craig Heatherington’s peppered sockeye on brioche with a little sour cream is satisfying and elegant appetizer.
Peppered Bristol Bay Salmon on toasted brioche, prepared by Craig Hetherington of Seattle Art Museum Restaurant, TASTE
Chef Sean Ellis’ gravlax was probably my favorite of the three. Ok, let’s be honest, I’m not likely to make this one any time soon, but I do love me some gravlax!
Dill & Vodka Marinated Bristol Bay Sockey Salmon Gravlax with tarragon creme fraiche, prepared by Chef Sean Ellis of the Westin Seattle
Sourcing was included in the presentation; a sign was placed near each dish, crediting the chef, as well as the provider of the salmon itself. Seattle seafood processor, Icicle Seafood, provided the salmon for the the tomatoes and chilies dish, as well as the gravlax. However, the sockeye for the peppered salmon on brioche was provided by a single fisherman and vessel: Matthew Luck, MegJ LLC dba Pride of Bristol Bay. That’s something I’d like to see more often!
So how do you find out more about the source of the salmon you’re about to buy? Simple: ask. “Is this local?” If not, where is it from? If the guy (or gal) working the fish counter doesn’t know, ask if there’s someone else in the department who does know. I’ve ended up having some really good conversations with the folks working the fish department where I shop. You’d be surprised how knowledgeable your local fish supplier (or butcher, for that matter) can be!
Recently my local grocery store had two kinds of wild salmon in the fish case: king (aka, Chinook) and sockeye. I asked about the source of both, and the fish guy was on top of it: king from the California Coast and sockeye from Alaska. That rich, red-orange color of the sockeye, not to mention the “Best Choice” rating from Seafood Watch, won me over. The fillets were perfect for baking and enjoying over a simple green salad. Next time I’ll have to buy extra and try my hand at those salmon cakes.
Baked Alaskan sockeye salmon, served over a green salad of red leaf lettuce and baby spinach, finished with chopped chives and toasted pumpkin seeds
Look Ma, No Hands: Cooking Without a Recipe
September 26, 2014 § Leave a comment
Sometimes the universe sends just what you need before you realize you need it. Earlier this week, as my friend Amy was getting ready to head to the East Coast to visit her daughter, she offered me… groceries. Groceries. I wanted to say yes, but um, have you seen my fridge? It’s still packed full of untouched produce from last week’s CSA delivery, which arrived right before IFBC weekend in Seattle. I wasn’t sure I could get through the food I already had, but she insisted, and I’m glad she did. Lucky me, I came home with a container of arugula (excellent, because I’d just run out), a half pint of blueberries (my favorite addition to breakfast cereal), one plump, must-use-now tomato to add to my collection at home, and a small bunch of basil.
Funny thing about that tomato and that basil. Last weekend, during a pre-lunch session at IFBC 2014, Seattle-based chef Thierry Rautureau demonstrated a quick-and-easy tomato-basil soup. The soup is a simple solution to an end-of-summer tomato and basil surplus. Or, depending on your perspective, it could be a last celebration of summer’s bounty. As far as recipes go, it’s the kind of no-recipe recipe that you’ll either love for its simplicity or hate for its lack of detail. Why? Because he didn’t give any quantities — not a one. The ingredients are olive oil, tomatoes, basil, salt, and pepper. That’s it. The technique? Briefly sauté the ingredients together, then purée them in a blender. You can then either freeze the soup, or serve it immediately with a garnish of goat cheese and drizzle of good olive oil. Ta-dah! Wait, what?
Chef Thierry Rautureau blending Tomato-Basil Soup at IFBC 2014
In fact most of his presentation was about using what you have on hand to create a dish, or even a meal. After the soup demo, Chef Thierry played an audience-participation game in which he’d ask someone to list the contents of his or her refrigerator, then Chef would come up a recipe idea. It’s basically the exercise that most of us do every day, standing there, in front of the fridge, door open, gawking at the contents, hoping that a delicious dinner will magically reveal itself. Except that Chef Thierry can put those ingredients together in his head, et voilà! Dinner. Nifty.
I could think of just as many friends who would be all over this no-recipe cooking approach as I could those would be paralyzed with fear by it. I’m a big believer in cooking to taste and adjusting ingredients as you like them (for savory cooking, that is — not for baking. Uh uh, no way.). But as I was watching Chef Thierry’s demo, my methodical, technical-writer, pastry-chef brain was squirming. How many tomatoes was that? How much basil? Eek, what if you overdo the basil? How do you fix that? How much olive oil? I don’t have a blender. Can I purée the soup in my food processor? Yep, I’m just as susceptible to recipe fear as anyone else. And yet, that’s the beauty of “savory” cooking — there’s room to adjust as you go, and even right until the end (which is why most recipes have you check your seasoning at the end and adjust to taste as a last step). It’s also the beauty of working with good, fresh ingredients. If they’re flavorful and tasty, that’s half the work done for you.
Yesterday, as I was looking at my really-must-use-now tomatoes, I thought: I should make that soup. What the hell. I’ll make a small portion to test the basil-to-tomato ratio (hello, methodical, technical-writer, pastry-chef brain). Hopefully I won’t overdo the basil. And, if all goes well, I can freeze the soup, saving it for a cold, rainy day, aka, winter here in Northern California. Honestly, this is the sort of thing that, before I went to culinary school, I would have waited to try until it was an hour past dinner time, and I was starving — well, maybe not starving, but definitely hangry. Let me tell you that those sorts of experiments never go well when it’s 8 o’clock at night, and you still haven’t figured out what’s for dinner.
So, with lunch over and done with and a sunny afternoon ahead of me, I pulled together my ingredients, got out a frying pan — and yes, the food processor — and got to work. In short, the whole thing was as easy as Chef Thierry made it look. It was over in about 10 minutes, and yes, I got the tomato-to-basil ratio right — for my taste. My advice, if you’re a cautious cook:
- Taste your ingredients first; they’ll guide you as to freshness and how much seasoning you might need
- Assemble everything you need, or think you might need, before you start cooking (aka, mise en place); believe me, you’ll have less stress if you chop those tomatoes before you heat up the oil in the sauté pan
- Add spices, herbs, salt, pepper in small increments, tasting as you go, so that you can figure out what you like and minimize the risk of overdoing your seasoning
- Trust your instincts in the kitchen; they’re better than you think
If you’re the kind of person who’s happy to experiment in the kitchen and good with the on-the-fly approach, then you’re probably already off making batches of soup. If you need a bit more structure, here’s my version with quantities. Consider it a gentle guide — a framework for creating your tomato-basil soup.
Tomato-Basil Soup ingredients: Olive oil, tomatoes, basil, salt, pepper
Recipe: Tomato-Basil Soup
Adapted from Chef Thierry Rautureau’s demonstration at IFBC 2014
Servings: 1 large bowl or 2 cups of soup
Feel free to adjust the quantities of everything to your taste. If you prefer more basil, go there. Use whatever tomatoes you have on hand, as long as they’re flavorful and not too soft. This soup is meant to be served cold or at room temperature, so there’s no need to return it to the heat after you blend it.
Ingredients:
Olive oil
3/4 pound tomatoes (about 3 medium-large), cut into quarters or eighths
2 1/2 tablespoons fresh basil, chiffonade (cut into thin strips)
Salt
Pepper
Optional garnish: More olive oil, goat cheese
What you need:
Large sauté frying pan (I used a 12″ pan, but scale up if you increase the recipe)
Blender or food processor
How to:
- Add 2 to 2 1/2 tablespoons of olive oil to the pan and heat on medium-high.
- When the oil is glistening, add the tomatoes and any juice to the pan, and cook for a couple of minutes, stirring to combine the tomatoes, juice, and oil.
Adjust the heat if necessary (you don’t want to sear or break down the tomatoes, just cook them enough to enhance their flavor).
Things will start to look a little saucy as the tomato juice and oil come together.
Is it soup yet?
- Add the basil, salt, and pepper to the pan and stir to combine. Cook another minute longer.
- Remove the pan from the heat and transfer the tomato mixture to your blender or food processor.
If you have a blender, I recommend using it. You’ll end up with a soup that has a silky texture and lighter orange-red color. My food processor does a great job, but takes longer than a blender and doesn’t produce the same light, silky texture. My food processor soups tend to be more “rustic.” - Purée the tomato mixture until the soup is smooth and has a light-orange-red color.
Pureed soup in my food processor: your mileage may vary
- If serving right away, stream some good olive oil into the puréed soup while running the blender, then ladle into a bowl (or bowls) with a dollop of goat cheese and garnish of chopped chives.
- If not serving now, don’t stream in the extra olive oil, but do pour the soup into a freezer-safe container and freeze for up three months. To serve, thaw overnight in the refrigerator, drizzle with good olive oil, and garnish with fresh chives and a spoonful of goat cheese — or enjoy plain.
Field Trip: Hello, My Name Is…
September 23, 2014 § Leave a comment
This past weekend I attended the International Food Bloggers Conference (IFBC 2014) in Seattle. After spending most of this month focusing on fixing the broken at home (I now have a working shower, doors that open and close, and new brakes on my car — woohoo!), and not finding enough time to write or work on recipes, the conference was a necessary respite: like a weekend away at camp. It was a weekend to focus on what I love — food, writing, and communication — and connect with other kindred spirits who relish the same.
Top: View of Elliot Bay
Bottom: Fried Macaroni & Cheese at Icon Grill, two-bite Coconut Cream Pie from Dahlia Bakery, Dill and Vodka Marinated Bristol Bay Salmon Gravlax served at IFBC’s opening reception at the Westin Seattle
Throughout the conference, the question “Who are you?” came up multiple times. (Hey, we’re writers; we have a tendency to get deep.) While it’s the kind of question that, examined too closely, could send you into a total spinout, it’s a good question to ask yourself during the course of a writing project or career. In short: what matters so much that you want to write about it…and why? It’s a question that I had to ponder when I started this blog, and yet it comes up again and again — especially when you’re at a food bloggers’ conference, and the person sitting next to you at breakfast starts the conversation with “So, what do you write about?” Oof.
In terms of conference takeaways, “Who are you?” is a good one, although it can be a daunting question to consider, as well. For me, it’s relevant as I’m coming up on the one-year anniversary of 650Food (which, by the way is pronounced six-five-oh food, not six-fifty food). Sure, as a businessperson I need to look at things like branding and audience reach, and all that, but as a writer, my committment is to writing authentically about all aspects of local food — from what to do with an excess of sage in my garden (Anyone? Anyone?) to supporting small-business foodcrafters. If I’m being true to my mission, then hopefully you’ll learn something useful, discover a cool new place to eat, or get a little more creative in the kitchen.
Eat Local Seattle: Some memorable bites from IFBC 2014
Upper left and lower right: Sushi from Blue C Sushi
Upper right: Tasty vegan and gluten-free treats from Cupcake Royale
Lower left: Heirloom Tomato Salad & Sorbet from Trace Restaurant
While I approach food writing through a hyper-local lens, some of what I write about — being a part of your local food system, eating well, and creating community through food — reaches beyond county and state lines. Wherever you live, you’re part of a local food system, from where you shop to where you dine (even if “dining” means grabbing takeout from the place down the street).
Most of the time, my local is within the boundaries of the 650 area code: aka, The Peninsula, south of San Francisco and north of San Jose. But when I travel — whether it’s to visit family in the midwest or unplug completely for a few days in Puerto Rico — I’m looking at the local food system in that environment. What can I eat there that I can’t get in the 650? Or, how is a dish (let’s say: ceviche) made differently in San Mateo, Cleveland, or San Juan? What’s the source of the ingredients? How has climate change affected the growing season and availability of local produce? What’s the committment to supporting the local food system?
The subject of food is broad and deep, and I’m intrigued by the ways in which it impacts so many aspects of our lives: health and well-being, family and community, pleasure and indulgence, sustenance and sustainability, celebrations and lamentations. As a cook, I love the process of figuring out recipes, creating something simple but delicious (ok, sometimes complicated and delicious), and yes, the precision required in creating baked goods and confections. As a writer, I like sharing what I’ve learned and enjoyed over the course of my culinary experiences. Sometimes that includes a recipe, sometimes it doesn’t — sometimes it’s a technique or a place to eat.
So, what’s the answer to “who am I?” That’s probably a thesis and not a blog post. So, without getting too existential, you can check out my LinkedIn profile and About page of this blog for the “official” versions, but when it comes down to it, I’m someone who has a passion for making, eating, talking about, writing about, and sharing food. I like a good food story. What about you? What’s your food story?
