Mary Ladd

It's Getting Hot in Here: Smoked Salmon

For my Lake Tahoe gig last week, I started wishing for things to be different. Even though the lake views and live samba music wafting into my kitchen perch seemed at first glance ideal. To get my work finished, I wanted a more elaborate fantasy: to be in a cool, climate controlled kitchen. Think upscale and professional sushi restaurant. What I got was a humid, hot, sticky kitchen revved by two ovens cranked to 500 degrees. Let me explain lest you wonder if I've gone soft and wimpy.

I was assigned to roll 100 pieces of smoked salmon as a part of a heavenly potato chip-caviar-chive-creme fraiche item for the servers to pass. The chef showed me how he wanted the salmon sliced and then rolled. These weren't going to be sweet little roses of the type I learned how to bang out in cooking school. Chef emphasized how tight and uniform each piece should be. Together we decided it'd be best if the pieces were all the same height. I was warm in my full chef's jacket and pants, and the hot ovens were not helping. Worse, my hands were damp and I wished I wasn't "gifted" with a warm body temp from my Dad. The salmon was shredding rather than cutting, and was also sticky. I'd use Chef's small knife to roll, roll, roll, roll a piece, only to realize it was a too-fat mess. These pieces were not anywhere close to tight or attractive looking. So many times in catering I feel challenged. I want to produce quality food but feel rushed and panicky as the deadline for guests to arrive ticks closer.

When hot ovens mess with you, fight back. Rather than leave the full salmon fillet out, I wrapped most of it up and put it back in the fridge. That'd make it much easier to handle, in theory. I kept pulling batches out after I'd finish fifteen or so pieces. It was frustrating to see how slow things were still going for me, and I kept hoping the Chef wasn't pissed. He didn't seem rushed, and even announced that "we're in good shape," at one point, which slowed my pitter-pattering heart just a bit.

I realized my neck was tightening up from being hunched over. Keep going, this is not a spa. It's work. One hour and probably forty-five pieces in, I started to feel like I had finally gotten the hang of rolling tight, perfect looking pieces. Chef even gave a quick "Mmmm-hmm," on one of his peeks at my station. Omigod, he was even smiling! I put the finished pieces in the freezer and stopped after 100. I worked mainly on fully assembling the salmon apps throughout the two hour cocktail shindig. One guest and friend of the hostess came in to use a regular sized spoon to eat more caviar and salmon. More of that came later. The leftover salmon pieces went into a container and would be gobbled by our socialite client and her pals after the party ended.   

My hands still smelled of smoked salmon the next day. An early morning jump off the client's deck into the chilly Tahoe waters helped me feel cleaner and relaxed.

New Zealand Comfort Food: Fish & Chips

For cheap comfort food, fish and chips is fitting. We enjoyed this meal with Speight's beers a few times on our New Zealand trip. We usually got it as a take away item, meaning "to go" and to be eaten at home. It's hot, filling, and satisfying. John Dory seems to be my favorite fish for fish and chips, but their are competing views on which local fish makes is best.

I love all that starch and grease, tampered by vinegary sides of ketchup and home made plum sauce. There's never any leftovers, and almost forty dollars feeds four adults with healthy appetites and two kids.

My cousin Gabrielle worked at the same take away spot that her Dad did, forty years ago. I like hearing about that sort of history for their small town. Their roles were different: she usually rang folks up and scooped ice cream; he filleted and cooked fish and chips.

Headed to Work? Sushi Time.

Occasionally when I have catering jobs, I like to treat myself. Even though I work around food, I obsess over it on off hours. Sushi is a top pick for a pre-work meal. It's satisfying, healthy, and filling. Without the uncomfortable bloat some other foods may give, burgers and burritos being the top offenders. Better to eat before catering, because it's unsure if and when you'll get another bite. Or what the food will be. My least favorite staff meal: Subway wimpy sandwiches, hands down. Generally, staff meal is not a showcase for any chef's talents. More like: empty the walk in fridge and make the most puzzling array of dishes (hot dogs, limp salad, etc.).

So maybe it's not best to use a pre-work meal as a reward, but that's pretty much what I do on the days where I'm dragging. I move a little quicker when a restaurant outing looms in the near future. No fake smile needed while I head to eat and work! Isobune tends to be a breeze. I never wait for a seat, and can select and eat dishes from their rotating circle of sushi boat plates. If I'm especially hungry, I start with miso soup and seaweed salad. In the drink department, they do a good job on keeping the green tea cup full. Warmth and caffeine, all better now. Especially when mixed with bites of fresh fish, and wasabi rich soy sauce.

After paying the $20+/- Isobune bill, I take in the sites of the Japan Center. Read reviews and menus, people watch. Maybe even stroll up Fillmore and see what is on the menu at other places. For a sweet treat, hit up Bittersweet. Or use my Peet's card for yes, more caffeine.

Spooky Salmon Head

Damn, call me wimpy! I thought it was just ghosts, gangs, and terrorists that scare me. Now I can add fish heads to the list.

I got jumpy yesterday. What should've been an uneventful cooking-fish-in-the-kitchen routine left me a little shaky and in need of a Boont Amber beer. All due to a big old salmon head. We bought the ten pound local salmon from Mission Meat Market, where they kindly scaled and butterflied it, leaving the head and tail in place. My plan was to rinse and pat the fish dry, rub all over with olive oil, and liberally add salt and pepper. Next, stuff and cover with lemon slices and fennel, followed by wrapping tightly with sturdy aluminum foil. Into a five hundred degree oven for forty, make that nearly sixty minutes, and that's the making of a great salmon meal for the Litquake committee meeting at our place.

It first started to go wrong while I was washing the fish. The butcher loosened the head from the body slightly, so the head was hanging a little. Those fish eyes seeming to watch my every move. I tried to think about the other cooking steps and didn't return the gaze. Lifting the fish brought the salmon head even closer to my face. Abruptly, I said something like "Awwww!" and jiggled the fish back into the sink, wiping my hands on paper towels after. I'm not proud at this point, and hoped the fish was okay from all that moving action. Try again. I had to look at the fish to make sure it was getting a good rinse.

That fish head spooked me again as I was placing it in a hotel pan that was lined with foil and had the cedar plank on the bottom. The fish was too long for the pan, and was supposed to snuggle and lay flat to cook properly. Time to improvise by letting the fish head stick slightly up and out from the pan, resting over the edge. I figured it would still cook and any juices could drip into the two layers of foil I was about to add.

It's hard to foil a fish head when trying to not touch or look at the head. The foil touched the fish in a way that made it feel alive to my hands. All of the sudden, I had a flash back to what my parents call the "Cow Palace Fish Day" when the fish I had caught from a kiddie pool roared back to life minutes later as I proudly carried it in a clear plastic bag. I screamed and shrieked so much, people suspected my parents were kidnappers or doing something otherwise awful to me. The salmon fish head on my counter again made me do another cry of "Awwwww!" and nervously move my hands away from the fish.

Thank goodness the clock saved me. I didn't have time to be scared and squeamish and needed to get the fish in the oven (stat!) so it would be cooked in time for the Litquake guests. I tried to be nimble as I finished wrapping the tilted fish head in foil. Whew. It finally made it into the oven and seemed to be a hit. It was exciting to see the fish when it was done, because it smelled and looked incredibly tasty. The butcher told me the head would easily come right off after cooking, and he was correct. I did a wasteful stupid thing with the head. Instead of saving it to use for some other dish, I threw it out. I guess I need to do more salmon head exercises to get over this mental block.

Canned salmon questions from reader, Joe S.:

Question for Mary:

"My question for you relates to salmon. It's my favorite! and believe it or not, I like the convenience of buying it in a can (the boneless skinless can I buy at Whole Foods is really tasty).... but I'm wondering if you have suggestions for including it in a bag lunch to bring to work. I prefer not to eat it like tuna salad in sandwiches because I think the mayo corrupts the nutritional value.

I'd like to eat it in a salad, but it sometimes has a fishy smell that give me weird stares from my co-workers. I'm thinking probably just pour a can over a salad.... what do you think? If you want to talk me out of canned and into frozen, I'll listen. But I'm all for quick and easy."

A: Joe, as long as you are buying wild salmon, preferably Alaskan (gotta support my relatives), I won't talk you out of canned. Salmon is really good for you, and a nice choice for a healthy lunch. By the way, the bones are edible and an excellent source of calcium. There are many quick and easy ways to dress up the salmon, without adding mayo. A squeeze of lemon and sprinkling of chopped dill, right before eating is the easiest.

Add some or all: spinach, field greens, lettuce, green beans, avocado, broccoli, cauliflower, radishes, onion, pickles, bell peppers, and tomatoes. Keep the salmon in it's can until lunchtime, or else it will definitely get soggy with other items. If you like, try some non-fat yogurt with the blended mix-an acquired taste, but one of my faves. Goat cheese, feta, olives, or brie also taste good. Herbes du provence (dried) or chili flakes will add flavor. You probably won't want to add both, though.

Another option is to dress up a bagel or your favorite whole wheat or sourdough bread by eating the salmon with cream or Neufatchel cheese. Since the canned salmon isn't smoked, you should add some salt and perhaps pepper, to taste. Capers, fresh chopped dill or parsley, and red onion will help dress up the mix.

As for the fishy smell, I suggest you eat outside, or in a break room, if at all possible, to avoid those weird co-worker stares.  Maybe your food makes them hungry, maybe not. The fishy smell can be strong, and lingers. I've read many angry posts on the craigslist food & etiquette forums from people complaining about food smells like this. If you must eat at your desk, take your dish or garbage away immediately, so the smell can dissipate quicker.

Salmon Walk the Plank for truly tribal taste-SF Chronicle Food Section

Article here. For at least 100 years, the cooks in my father's tribe -- the Kwakiutl in British Columbia -- have turned bentwood boxes into pots to steam and boil soups of shellfish, salmon, cod and halibut, giving those fish extra flavor. Today, many tribe members still living on Quadra Island in British Columbia use spearlike sticks to skewer and cook a butterflied whole fish on a beach or other outdoor area.

"The Kwakiutl style is to put the sticks in the ground, allowing the smoke and heat to come up to the fish. You need a lot of space," my great Aunt Elaine told me on a recent visit. Finding such a device and the space to use it won't work for most Bay Area cooks. My great Uncle Bill offered me the crossbow-esque cooking device as a gift, but with security being what it is at airports these days, I declined.

A better choice for today's cooks, and also a Native American tradition, is to use a a special cedar or alder wood plank to give salmon or other fatty fish a delicious flavor while keeping it moist. The cedar plank chars in the heat and gives a warm infusion of cedar smoke, creating a glazed finish to the fillet. In some tribes, planks are passed down from generation to generation.

Cedar or other wood planks especially designed for cooking -- do not simply use any wooden board -- are available at some cookware stores and online (see box). Some are designed to be used in an oven; others are for outdoor use. Be sure you use the planks only as directed.

In all cases, planks should be soaked before using for 20 minutes to 4 hours. Using hot water shortens the soak time. The planks can be reused if they don't char too much or crack.

Catching salmon was a main source of income for many tribes, but in recent years the fish numbers dwindled. Most of my relatives turned to construction, tugboating and other outside work to make ends meet. That doesn't stop my Aunt Kelly from serving and enjoying plank salmon several times a year.

"It's great for a party, and we serve it during the holiday season, especially. It's probably the only way I'll eat salmon," she says. After trying her salmon, I can see why. In California, wild salmon season runs through Oct. 19. Wild salmon has a decidely richer flavor and firmer texture than farmed or Atlantic salmon, and works well on planks.

"The best meal I ever had was on the beach," my father recalls. "Salmon with potatoes and hooligan oil, made by Grandma." Hooligan oil isn't for everyone -- it's an extremely strong grease from herring or Oulichan fish, prized for its pungent flavor and used in trading. But, with or without this oil, planked salmon is a unique way to experience the season's catch, a Native American tradition I've grown to love.

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Planks

Here are some sources for planks for cooking salmon.

-- Chinook Planks, (800) 765-4408. Web site: www.chinookplanks.com. Planks for indoor cooking are $31.95-$39.95, depending on size.

Planks for outdoor cooking are $11.95 for four individual-size planks.

-- Sur La Table. San Francisco, (415) 732-7900; Los Gatos, (408) 395-6946; Berkeley, (510) 849-2252.

-- Viking/HomeChef locations throughout the Bay Area, including Walnut Creek, (925) 943-3191; San Francisco, (415) 668-3191; and San Jose, (408) 374- 3030.

-- Williams-Sonoma locations throughout the Bay Area, or (877) 812-6235. Web site: www.williams-sonoma.com.

-- Essential for Cooks, Napa; (707) 526-3856

-- Shackford's, Napa; (707) 226-1830

-- Cooking, Etc., San Jose; (408) 266-5382

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PLANKED LEMON SALMON

INGREDIENTS

1 cedar cooking plank

1 1/2-pound salmon fillet

1/4 cup lemon-flavored olive oil (see note)

Marinade

1/3 cup lemon-flavored olive oil

1 tablespoon chopped fresh basil

1/2 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper

1 to 2 garlic cloves, chopped

INSTRUCTIONS

Soak the cedar plank in cold water for 2 to 3 hours, weighting it down with something heavy, such as a brick.

When ready to cook the fish, preheat the oven to 450 degrees. Place the plank in the oven for 15 minutes.

Combine all marinade ingredients in a large bowl and stir to mix. Add the salmon and let marinate for 20 to 30 minutes.

Brush or rub the olive oil over the top of the plank.

Take the salmon out of the marinade and place on the plank, drizzling the marinade over the fish. Measure the thickness of the salmon, then place in the oven and roast for 10 minutes per inch of thickness.

Barbecue option: Soak the plank in water as instructed; place the salmon on the plank. Put the plank directly on the grill. Close the lid and cook over medium-high heat for about 20 minutes.

Serves 4

Note: To test the recipe, we used "O" Meyer lemon olive oil, available at better supermarkets and online (www.ooliveoil.com).

The calories and other nutrients absorbed from marinades vary and are difficult to estimate. Therefore, this recipe contains no analysis.

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PLANKED MAPLE SYRUP SALMON

Quartered or whole potatoes make nice vehicles for sopping up the salmon juices. Rub the potatoes with olive oil or butter and season with salt and pepper before roasting.

INGREDIENTS

1 tablespoon walnut oil

1 cedar cooking plank

1 tablespoon pure maple syrup

1 tablespoon whiskey

1 1/2-pound king salmon fillet

1/4 cup chopped red onion

1 teaspoon chopped garlic

INSTRUCTIONS

Preheat oven to 375 degrees.

Brush or rub the walnut oil on the top of the plank. Place the plank in the oven to heat for 15 to 20 minutes.

Combine the maple syrup and whiskey in a bowl; add the salmon and set aside to marinate for 20 minutes.

Place the salmon fillet on the plank and top with the onion and garlic. Drizzle the maple mixture over the fillet.

Bake for 25 to 30 minutes, until the fish is flaky and tender.

Serves 4

PER SERVING: 335 calories, 34 g protein, 4 g carbohydrate, 18 g fat (4 g saturated), 112 mg cholesterol, 81 mg sodium, 0 fiber.