Salmon and shortcake

Eastside Road, May 6, 2012—

PERHAPS IT'S BECAUSE they both announce "Spring!," like the beginning of Schumann's B-flat symphony (It's always seemed odd to me that he put it in B-flat; I'd have chosen A major, or perhaps even E); perhaps it's just that they both begin with the letter "S". For whatever reason, salmon and strawberries seem to engage in some kind of conversation.

Yesterday was the opening of the Healdsburg Farm Market, the first of the season, and Dave the fish guy was there, and we bought salmon. Not local, I'm afraid; he said he went out in search of them, but they were hiding out, and the water was rough, and he came up short. So he had Oregon king salmon, nearly the same thing. Oh wait a minute, he said, that one Lindsey's chosen, that's from one of the ones he did manage to land. Local King salmon.

And this morning I'd driven into town to pick up the Sunday newspaper for Lindsey — she can't do without it — and as luck would have it there was a recipe that caught her eye, involving a "rub" of coriander, celery, poppy, and mustard seeds, along with black and white peppercorns, salt, sugat, and olive oil — and millet. What! I said, when she directed me to the recipe, Millet! To me millet is simply birdseed; I'm not happy at the thought of being made to eat millet. Well, she said, I didn't have any millet, I substituted quinoa. Now quinoa's not much better than millet, far as I'm concerned; in fact it has the added flaw of coming from the wrong hemisphere. I forgive potatoes, but I'm not ready to embrace quinoa, or kiwi either. But I digress.

The salmon turned out to be absolutely delicious. The thick crust of seeds protected its delicate flesh from the shock of cooking, and set off its creamy interior without masking the soft, elusive flavor of the fish. Lindsey put nice buttered favas on the side, and we had our usual green salad, dressed with lemon juice tonight instead of Eastside vinegar.


And then the dessert. It's no secret strawberries aren't my favorite fruit: but these, from the Central Valley, and though rather bigger than I usually think will convey any flavor or juices at all, were absolutely delicious. They'd been sitting out on a paper towel ever since yesterday afternoon; perhaps that helped push the flavor. They combined with the shortcake and the whipped cream magnificently. The recipe came from Lindsey's book, of course — if you don't have it, you really should get a copy, if only for this marvelous shortcake.

Cheap Pinot grigio