Thursday, June 03, 2010

In The Pink

With a pornucopia of freshest seafood in the fridge, dinner this evening was pretty easy. That's not to say that I didn't make an unholy mess of the kitchen, of course, because that is the manner in which I roll. But the actual food was pretty easy. To start, because the family was deep into "My Side of the Mountain" (my absolute favorite book when I was about 7 or 8), a couple of quick salmon hand rolls for the cook.






















See how easy that was? The scallions I planted in March are getting pretty fat, which is nice. Next up–and I did include them in this part–a nice little tartare of the same wild Alaskan salmon. Minced fine with chives, cilantro, and baby fennel fronds, I formed it into balls with an ice cream scoop and sauced it but good with some organic tamari into which I beat a local egg yolk and a splash of some local artisanal vinegar which is truly superb. I returned from my interview yesterday with some vinegar mother, so homemade is on tap.

















But since there was salmon left over, all minced up and fancy-like, I decided in the interest of both Science and plate fatigue to make little burger-type things out of the remainder and sear them on one side to create that most luscious of gradients from crisp to raw. Honestly, do you see what lengths I go to for you people?



















I reused the same plates, because there were already enough dishes to do. And the sauce was ridiculously good. Between the two salmon dishes, I made a quick bowl of wilted mixed greens (chard, spinach, escarole, and frisée) with garlic, and a gorgeous clump of beech mushrooms caramelized with fish and soy sauces.



















To drink, a 2009 Domaine Costeplane "Arboussède" Rosé. Organic, and a lovely salmony pink that matched beautifully with the fish for both eye and tongue, it's up there with my current favorites. Having said that, though, I recommend letting the last glass of rosés come up to room temp; the characteristics of the red grapes (Syrah and Grenache in this case) emerge, and can be both pleasurable and instructive. The cold, herbal acidity with a topnote of red fruits is replaced by a tepid rush of volatile and exotic scents. Candied solvents, specifically, which got to be a little too much as the glass reached the currently very warm ambient temperature. In between was best, striking a balance. The moral: unfridge your rosés before serving if they're very cold. The color and qualities that the skins have imparted will awaken and enrich your drinking.

3 comments:

voodooandsauce said...

Aw! My Side of the Mountain is my favorite childhood book too. It even inspired me to start writing a book on edible plant ID when I was 18 (including tiny watercolor thumbnails of each plant). I really should finish that.

I want to dive into that bowl of mushrooms. The seared tartare ain't too shabby either.

butterface said...

Oh my god! My Side of the Mountain fans!! My dad read us that book when we were just wee things.
I am currently filled with warm fuzzies.

And I want to slup from the green onion in that cornicopia like a straw. Can I?

peter said...

Blanche: You are pretty lazy. There's no doubt about that.

Brittie Holmes: Sure. You know you'll just do it anyway. Do the warm fuzzies make up for the bad mood the other post put you in?