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.