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Cooking without a safety net
Showing posts with label fish. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fish. Show all posts

Thursday, September 24, 2015

syrupy salmon

Friends got us a cast-iron cookbook for Pi Day (what, you're not observant of math holidays?), and I sometimes browse through it for food ideas guaranteed to be excellent. This time, I was trying to find the Spanish Chicken Stew recipe I knew I'd made, but my efforts were in vain (turns out it was in my notebook, because I'd made up the recipe. I'll get to it soon, really). On my way from cover to cover, I made the mistake of showing the Chief Taster a salmon recipe with a full-page picture.

"Make that. Now."
"Now?"
"Tonight. Do we have a dinner plan for tonight? Can we make that instead?"

I had to buy a couple things I've never bought, but they were conveniently near each other in the "Asian" section of the grocery (four feet of shelves at the end of an otherwise unrelated aisle). And I didn't get the sauce thickened to the "glaze" consistency recommended, but she was still pretty happy with the results. More on the subject of making women happy follows the recipe.

Salmon with balsamic Thai chile glaze
4 scallions (white parts)
4 inches of the green parts of aforementioned scallions (I can never find scallions. Sources I've found say they're the same thing, so I always use green onion when a recipe says "scallion." No one has died, so I guess I was right. I did not see the "four inch" part of the recipe until typing this post, the day after making the food, so we had lots of green onion. I used the rest in breakfast the next day. No worries.)
salt and pepper
4 to 6 (6 oz) salmon fillets with skin attached (I bought a 12 oz slab of salmon and cut it in half. I didn't adjust sauce quantities. That's part of why I had so much sauce, but not why it didn't thicken)
2 T vegetable oil (or canola)
1 T Asian sesame oil
3 garlic cloves, minced
2 T grated fresh ginger root
1/2 C sweet Thai chile sauce
1/4 C firmly packed brown sugar
3 T soy sauce
3 T balsamic vinegar
1 to 2 T freshly squeezed lime juice (I cut a golf-ball-sized lime in half and squeezed the hell out of it in my hands. That gave me 2 T)

  • Chop the scallion whites and set them aside. Thinly slice the green portions and set them aside. They'll be garnish later. The whites will go into the skillet with the sesame oil, garlic, and ginger, so you can put all of that in the same bowl if you want, but use a spatula to clear it so you get all the oil.
  • Season the salmon with salt and pepper. I put on a lot, because that's how I cook steaks, too, but under the sauce I don't think I could taste it. Still, it's good to use when searing, so don't skip that.
  • Heat a 12" skillet on high heat. Coat with the veg oil. Put in the salmon, skin side up, and leave it the hell alone for about four minutes. Don't flip them, don't move them around, don't peel them up and look at the fleshy side. Pretend they're your ex at a party and just turn your back on the damn things, ok? Maybe take a look every once in a while to see how they're cooking (you'll see a color change creep up the edges of the fillets). I used this time to frantically finish the sauce ingredients I'd forgotten, like the grated ginger and minced garlic.
  • Flip the fish and let it cook skin side down for another 2-3 minutes, then move it onto a warm plate. (I neglected to warm the plate for two reasons. First: I was using the oven to roast some potatoes at 400F. Second, I was a little gun-shy after destroying one of our new pie dishes with a rapid temperature change. Luckily, the sauce cooks up quick, and the fish only cooled enough to be edible.) The book says to wipe out the skillet with a paper towel, but there was nothing in my skillet once the fish was freed, so I skipped that.
  • Put the skillet on medium-high heat. Dump in all the stuff that goes with the onion whites. Cook and stir 30 seconds, until fragrant. I have almost no sense of smell, and that sesame oil was still plenty fragrant. Those of you whose noses are more than decorative will have no trouble telling when it's ready to:
  • Add chile sauce, brown sugar, soy sauce, and vinegar. Stir and cook 2 to 3 minutes, or until syrupy. Turn off the burner, stir in the lime juice.
  • Top each serving of the salmon with a generous dose of the glaze. Mine were practically swimming again, but I had all those roasted potatoes, too, and despite my careful application of seasoning (which amounted to pulling four or five jars out of the spice rack, thinking, "yeah, that sounds like a good idea," and then liberally shaking them over the taters), the sauce soaked in and overpowered everything I had done. We didn't care. It's good sauce. I had some left over, and I'm not sure what to do with it, but I'll find out this week. Top with green onions.

A while ago, I mentioned an idea I had for a cookbook called "How To Please A Woman." It's been a recurring theme of jokes and discussions ever since. One friend in particular has been campaigning hard for this idea. She may be more excited for it than I am. I have two hypotheses as to why. First, her outlook on publishing has not taken the pummeling that mine has. Second, I suspect she hopes to be a taste tester for the featured recipes. Can't blame her optimism.

I had been drifting away from the idea for a couple months now, because I've been disappointed with repeated failed efforts to get my work printed, and because, as I told the Chief Taster and our glass-blowing friend, "Every asshole with a food blog has a cookbook. But every other asshole with a food blog also has a big following. I can count my followers without removing my shoes."

Thing is, I'm pretty much the only person who understands what the title of this blog means. Starting a new site with a title like "How To Please A Woman" makes it much more appealing and accessible. The glass blower believes this will go a long way to attracting more followers. This is where you come in. You had to find this post somehow. However you got here, leave me a comment below (or you can contact me directly) and let me know whether you have interest in a new site with pretty much the same content (it's also been suggested that I could have polls connected to each recipe. I like that idea, too). Still me writing recipes to try, but with a specific goal in mind: scoring chicks!

Thursday, May 30, 2013

Blackened catfish

The Chief Taster likes to tease me about my affinity for spicy foods.  She claims it is because I can not smell things, so I like those strong, spicy flavors.  I think she teases me because she's envious of my high pain threshold, and secretly disappointed and ashamed that her delicate German palate can't handle those delicious Cajun dishes.

Blackened catfish is a happy medium.  Heavy on flavor (while still allowing the catfish itself to feature prominently in your mouth), and just enough spice to warm you a little.  I used this recipe, and I offer this warning: remove the batteries from your smoke detector before you begin cooking.  Then--this is key--put them back once the air has cleared, and before you go to bed.  Don't even bother thinking your range hood fan will keep the smoke moving enough.  You're fooling yourself.  Open all the windows, turn on the fans, but silence that smoke alarm, because if you have one, it'll activate.

On the other hand, if you need to test the efficacy of your smoke alarm, this recipe has an added benefit.


I only missed one thing: I forgot to drizzle butter over the fillets when I put them in the pan.  It didn't seem to matter, because I swear upon all the dogs I have ever loved that this stuff is amazing.  I almost wept twice that night: once when I had to run down the hall with a chair to kill the smoke alarm while I was still trying to manage things in the kitchen (I also had a barley millet skillet and some popovers in the works) and just felt frustrated and stretched thin, and once when I first took a bite of that delicious fish.  If it weren't for all the smoke (which is normal, and to be expected when you cook something with "blackened" right in the name), I'd make this twice a week.

Thursday, April 11, 2013

Salmon Honey Butter Glaze

Many years ago, after I had moved to Oregon, my brother got a chance to come visit the Beaver State with Dad and another friend.  He made us dinner one night; this is the recipe.  He had the foresight to sprinkle some pecans across the top, but I left for the grocery thinking I was buying an entirely different kind of fish, and thus had an entirely different recipe planned.  When I got there, the fish I wanted was no longer on sale, but salmon was.

No worries--I love salmon.  And I knew I had copied this recipe from my brother many years ago, though I had yet to try it myself.

Salmon Honey Butter Glaze
Combine 1 T each of:

  • brown sugar
  • butter
  • olive oil
  • honey
  • mustard
per every pound of salmon in a bowl.  Put salmon in a greased baking dish, skin side down.  Brush the glaze over the top and refrigerate 15-30 minutes.  Sprinkle with chopped pecans, if you have them, and broil 4-6" from the top of the oven for 10-15 minutes, brushing with glaze every 5 minutes.

isn't viscosity fascinating??
I didn't have soy sauce.  I used the last of it a while earlier making Bourbon Chicken.  In fact, I had to substitute a little teriyaki sauce to finish the chicken recipe.  I did it again with the fish.  Turns out teriyaki honey butter salmon is pretty good, too!

a little over a pound of Russian salmon.  Da!
Need to know how to grease a pan?  Check the How To tag!

Something's fishy.  Deliciously fishy.
I also might have overdone it with the sauce.  Instead of delicately brushing a little sauce over the fish and applying more later during broiling, I dumped the bowl over the fish, rubbing the sauce over the surface with the fingers that had already greased the pan and put the fish in it.  During broiling, I spooned up some of the sauce in the pan and dribbled it over the fillet.

Then the smoke alarm went off.

The Chief Taster stood on a chair, frantically fanning the smoke detector with a magazine while I opened windows and turned on fans at both ends of the apartment.  There wasn't even that much smoke, so I guess we have a pretty good smoke detector.  Comforting.

Here's what I think went wrong: too much sauce and a gas oven.  Had I applied sauce a little more conservatively, there wouldn't have been so much pooling in the dish to cook away to nothing.  We have a gas oven, so the broiler is at the bottom, not the top.  Knowing this, I put the fish at the bottom of the oven; this put the sauce closer to the broiler than most of the fish.  The combined effect was a lot of sauce nowhere near fish that cooked into a hard black veneer on the baking dish.

Luckily, the fish was fine.  Hell, the fish was excellent, but by the time it got out of the oven and I had finished cooking the hash browns, I was so frustrated that I never took a picture of the final product.  Sorry. Rest assured, it was very tasty.  The Chief Taster paid the highest of compliments to a cook: instant praise muddled by the first mouthful of food.  I'm not entirely sure what she said, but her eyes were very expressive in what I took to be a positive manner.