Recently in spring & summer Category

The scene: a beautiful summer's evening. A gathering of friends has come together to feast on grilled halibut, lemon linguine, and flash-cooked veggies. Everything was quite delicious and fresh, and all tummies were singing with joy. But the dessert was yet to be served!

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Yours truly decided to serve another dish in the vein of fresh summer fare. I pulled out vanilla ice cream, strawberries, and a good balsamic vinegar and proceeded to combine them. I could tell this had thrown my guests for a loop and no one was particularly looking forward to trying this syrupy brown stuff drizzled all over their perfectly good berries and ice cream. But the moment that combination touched their lips, I could tell that I had a table full of converts.

Should you have a similar reaction to the thought of strawberries and balsamic vinegar, I ask that you recite this eleventh commandment to yourself:

Thou shalt not doubt the culinary creations of your hostess, for lo, she will not lead you astray on the path to yumminess.

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This sorbet is in the same spirit of the combination I served last summer. This recipe really doesn't get any easier. Sorbets are usually based on a simple syrup but even that didn't make it onto this three-ingredient list. That's how simple it is! It's really delicious too - strawberries are always good, and when you add a good balsamic to the mix you get something really special. When you add the fact that it's a frozen dessert, well, that just makes it the perfect summer dessert, doesn't it?

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I just so happened to be wandering the aisles of New Sagaya today, lamenting my recent travels and the Martian death flu that resulted in me not cooking in a full two weeks, steadily depleting my frozen stores of homemade soups, breads, and lasagnas, and dreaming of making yet another Margherita pizza, and before I knew it I was in front of the seafood case.

*cue soft-focus light and an angelic choir singing*

It was a beautiful sight that greeted me.

Fresh (fresh!) red salmon! Not frozen, but fresh! And not any red salmon, but Copper River red salmon!

It had been so long since I had seen fresh red salmon, I must have started salivating right there. I quickly ordered a small fillet, kinda glad that someone had neglected to scrawl the price on the glass with a grease pencil.

And let's just say that it's a damn good thing I got paid that economic stimulus free money today. Yessiree, at $25 a pound, I'd better have had some serious cash on hand for that kind of extravagance. But I'm an Alaskan who believes that you've gotta get the seasonal seafood when the getting's good so I was more than happy to shell out.

But here's the real salmon snob coming out in me here: I don't understand the premium placed on Copper River salmon. I know that it's shipped all over the country to be served in fancy-pants restaurants and so the whole law of supply and demand dictates that that particular fish is going to be spendy. Despite that, I honestly think that regular ol' any-river-in-Alaska produces tastier - and more economically priced - sockeyes. But I'm only human and it was the first fresh salmon to be in a seafood case since September and I had a free six hundred bucks in my pocket! Right then, in that moment, I could afford to pay a premium for the first reds of the season.

It was in my oven less than half an hour after being dearly bought and it was in my tummy shortly thereafter. And it was yummy. Salmon season, how I love thee so!

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Same recipe as last year, just with a new photo and a good story »

I hate to tell you this, but if you live anywhere that is not Alaska or Washington and you think you've been eating salmon, you've been lied to. That pale, flavorless fish dubbed "Atlantic salmon" that is farmed and sold all over the country is a very poor facsimile of the real thing.

This time of year in Alaska, salmon doesn't get any real-er. The reds are running and the prized Copper River salmon is in season. This wild fish is deep red in color when raw -- it's as deep in hue as a tuna steak but much, much brighter. Think Crayola red, and you're just about right. It has superb flavor unrivaled by its commericalized cousin. It's just asking to be grilled simply adorned and devoured.

It only comes around once a year -- get it while it's here!

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