Salmon Exchange I - Alaskan Smoked

There has been a long absence in my blogging. This may have been noticed by the astute, interested reader. This may have fallen by the wayside of readers who have found other blogs in the meantime. The absence, however, can easily be explained. I can have 2 of the following 3 things in my time: a stimulating job, fun food adventures or regular blog entries. Because blog entries require input, that is, fun food adventures or similar, I have had to reduce the amount of entires due to the advent of the stimulating job I started on August 1.

In spite of my limited time, I have managed to enjoy the summer and the company of friends. This post was inspired by one friend and made possible by another. After learning that I can consume salmon, one friend from Ireland promised to bring me some Irish smoked salmon from the Emerald Isle. I thought that Canadian Pacific Salmon might be a pleasant way to repay the favour. Every Canadian airport has a few things in the duty free shop: ice wine, maple syrup and smoked salmon. My part of this exchange would be easy to contribute. Flights to Toronto were already booked.

As I told people of my newly discovered lack of allergy to salmon, I also mentioned the plans of the salmon exchange. One day on Skype, the Workaholic's sister heard of my plans. She also made a trip out to Alaska. A few days into her trip, I got an email informing me that salmon was on it's way to the lower 48 States. I only had to get it to Toronto and then to Germany. Vacuum sealed and fully frozen, I put the pink flesh into my suitcase. After a drink in the airport bar and a 7 hour flight, the salmon was still cold. I called my Irish friend and a few others and invited everyone over for hors d'oeuvres.

Platter of Pink

On the platter was cold smoked sockeye salmon, hot smoked king salmon, hot smoked sockeye salmon and salmon jerkey. And everyone brought something over as well - organic bread, a garlic pecorino, a few bottles of prosecco, olives and other nibbles. As for the salmon - we all decided it was an indulgent treat worth the hassle of bringing it over 7,000 km.

Salmon Jerkey

We never made it out for dinner and we went through all the cheese and wine we had in the house. A small price to pay for such a lovely treat - both the salmon and the company. We all look forward to repeating the pleasure soon. The Irish salmon has already reached the continent.

Camp Paella

One of the benefits of being in a vacation home as opposed to a hotel is the fact that there is a kitchen and you can cook the foods found at the local market. The down side of cooking in the kitchen of a vacation home is that the spice rack is often bare. My task was to make dinner for 6 people in a vacation home, a stone's throw away from a local farm, with only dried cilantro and a bag of rice in the cupboard.

The farm had phenomenal corn on the cob, but we had just had that a few nights previously. I bought a pint of fresh peas, got in the car and drove to the supermarket. My plan was to use what I deemed the only salvageable item in the kitchen: the rice. My plan was a paella because it only relies on wine (readily available), stock (easily purchased at the store) and saffron (here, I was concerned). The supermarket had "American saffron" which is very different than the Persian strands I have in my kitchen. These blossoms are named "American" but grown in China and imported by a company in Quebec. I put my hesitation aside, threw the orange blossoms of saffron in the cart and continued shopping. "Try the local foods," I thought to myself, "even if they are global".

You're on vacation. Don't worry if what you cook turns into a disaster. You get the chance to try something new. Enjoy the company and watch the sun set.

Camp Paella
1 onion, diced
3 cloves of garlic, minced
olive oil
1-454g bag of rice
a glass of white wine
1/2 tsp American saffron
1 L of salt-free chicken stock
1 red pepper, diced
1 pint of peas, shelled
350 g frozen shrimp
350 g frozen bay scallops

Thaw seafood, reserving liquid.
Saute onion in olive oil, add garlic. When translucent, add red pepper. When the pepper is getting soft, add rice & stir until coated.
Add wine. When liquid from wine has evaporated, add stock. Continue stirring now and then.
Sip own glass of wine & chat with other vacationers.
Check on rice every now and then. If it needs more liquid, add the liquid from the thawed seafood. Ensure rice is almost cooked.
Add peas and seafood, allow everything to cook for a few more minutes.

Eating Out: Duff's Wings

"Ooh, let's order 100 wings, all medium hot; that's only very hot, not very very hot!" screams out one of the 8 little league boys at a neighbouring table. We're at Duff's in Buffalo, who may not have the claim of being the home of the original Buffalo wings, that claim goes to the Anchor Bar, but was the recent host of president Obama.

Of course you can make wings at home and you certainly don't have to go to Buffalo for the pleasure but there's something special about the wings there. I'd normally drive right past a place like Duff's, a decision based not only on appearances but also based on the fried, vinegar smell of the parking lot. Inside, the dark dining room is made even darker by wood panels. It's loud. There's no bar. The chairs are stackable and covered in vinyl. Nonetheless, we have to wait for a table for lunch.

We order 30 wings, which might be excessive but we were very hungry. We were not aware of the fact that the chicken wings at Duff's are from some sort of weight-lifting chickens with ridiculously large arms. 20 wings clearly would have been sufficient for our amount of hunger, which would have been 10 per person. This is the minimum order, and had we not been starving ourselves before, 10 mutant wings would have been enough to share.


After the wings arrive with their requisite celery and blue cheese sauce (spellt "bleu" in Buffalo), we dug into our wings, the smell of spicy vinegar permeating our nostrils before we could even take a bite. Too hot to eat just yet, I dipped my first wing into the cheese sauce. Not bad. We ordered the medium-light, after being warned that the medium is hot, and the hot is very, very hot. The medium-light sauce eats it's way through my lipstick and I can feel a light warmth outside my lips. Recharged after my afternoon snack, I leave the bar that I would normally have never entered, full of a not-so secret treat.

Football needs Wings

It's the World Cup of Football right now, and I can't stop watching matches. Last night , I cheered as Japan made it on to the next qualifying round. In a few hours, I'll put aside my things and watch Portugal vs. Brazil and North Korea vs. Cote D'Ivoire on split screens. But all this football is making me hungry.

If you're from North America, you likely think of the game with quarterbacks and huddles and big headgear when the word football is mentioned. I've never really understood the appeal of this game, it goes a little too slow for my taste. However, I love the beer and wings that go along with it. So, even if this is a different kind of football - one actually played with feet - I made some wings to go with the game. And having a Buffalonian around means that there are going to be Buffalo wings.

The wings are pretty easy, if you have a bottle of good hot sauce.
1) boil wings
2) place wings in bag with hot sauce and melted butter (lots of melted butter)
3) bake wings at 200°, turning them over once.
4) broil wings if not crispy enough
5) place wings in bowl, toss with more hot sauce and melted butter
6) serve with celery and dip.

The dip is normally a blue cheese dip, which is spelled "bleu cheese" for some reason I am yet to understand. I took 125 g of roquefort, 2 tbsp of mayonnaise, 3 tbsp of yogurt and 1 tsp of lemon juice.

There are higher fat versions of both the wings and the dip, but considering I'll be eating a few of these over the next few weeks, I can't really afford to go for the full-fat versions. Although I'd be tempted if I was in Buffalo.

Things That Come in the Mail: Green Tea Kit Kat

Not so long ago, a coworker announced that he was finally going to go for his dream trip to Japan. Happy that he was embarking on his adventure of a lifetime, I told him to try some Wasabi Kit Kats. At this point, all I really knew about the Japanese food that isn't really imported is: 1) you can buy nearly everything in a vending machine and 2) they really like their Kit Kats in Japan. Little did I know that Wasabi Kit Kats actually exist, but are only sold in Shizuoka. Apparently, they are intended as gifts - you travel to a certain area of Japan and you can buy an exotic Kit Kat for your friends at home. This is what I'm lead to believe, but I'm not 100% certain.

My coworker came back, full of stories, and with 1 Kit Kat in hand. Green Tea. He left the price tag on for authenticity. I didn't mind that it didn't come from a vending machine. The package is actually a box, and you can send it in the mail, like a postcard. While I love getting mail, this Kit Kat was already doomed to being crushed in my purse. It didn't need an extra crunch from a postal worker.

What's the green tea kit kat all about? It's white chocolate that has green tea in it. That's it. Not really exciting, not really offensive. Is it something that I will really crave? I don't think so. Is it something to write home about? Only if you write on the back of the box & stick it in the mail.

New Find: MSC Salmon Steaks

Although I like to cook exotic things, I stay away from fish. There are two simple reasons for this: 1) I believe in sustainable fishing and try my best to support it, at the cost of popular, flavourful fish, and 2) I'm sort of allergic.

After having seen fish in the seas, I was frightfully aware of the fact that they are not as numerous as in Jaques Cousteau films. I believe in sustainable fishing, that is, fishing that is done responsibly, ensuring that there is something in the ocean the next time we want a salmon steak.

The allergy was discovered years ago when I was a child. My face puffed up and my allergist tested my reaction against various fish. I did not seem to show a reaction to tuna, but I choose to eat tuna very rarely because, 1) it could have been in contact with other fish and 2) it is not normally caught in a sustainable manner. Yes, the dolphins will survive but they will not necessarily be playing in the oceans with tuna.

In Paris, I was severely tempted to try the salmon tartare before me. I hesitantly picked up my fork, took a minuscule piece and waited. I know what it feels like when I'm allergic to something and I knew that this was something I could eat. I discovered that I like salmon. At least I liked this salmon. Maybe I'd like other salmon. Not something I thought about much until I was in the local discount supermarket and saw this:


MSC approved salmon steaks.
The Marine Stewardship Council (MSC) is an independent non-profit organization that promotes responsible fishing. Their logo is on fish products that meet their standards for fishing. This is fish that I can eat with a clear conscience. It's fish that I know has been harvested in a way that will allow future generations of fish & fish lovers to exist side by side.

I grilled the salmon steaks for the workaholic and took a small bite. It wasn't the mind-blowing salmon that I had in Paris, but it wasn't bad. The best part is, we can eat it with a clear conscience and, because it's at the discount supermarket, a clear conscience doesn't have a high price.

Daring Kitchen: June - Terrine

Our hostesses this month, Evelyne of Cheap Ethnic Eatz, and Valerie of a The Chocolate Bunny, chose delicious pate with freshly baked bread as their June Daring Cook’s challenge! They’ve provided us with 4 different pate recipes to choose from and are allowing us to go wild with our homemade bread choice.

An ideal challenge for someone who loves pate. Unfortunately, the free-range chicken livers that were purchased for this challenge turned into a buttery rich meal with caramelized onions and grapes. More on that later.

We all know that I'm not a baker. Bread and I don't get along. There was the time, years ago, that I tried to make croissants. I put hours into the ordeal, only to wake up on Sunday morning, pop the effort of the last 6 hours into the oven and a few minutes later ask: where's the rest of them? I don't know why bread does not rise in my kitchen. Presumably, bread has risen in those kitchens when other people inhabited them, but there is no remaining evidence. This is my excuse for not posting photos of my malformed loaf.

Because I'm not posting on a malformed loaf, one could conclude that my pate was spectacular. The pate was spectacular, but only on relative terms. I thought it would be interesting to try something new, like a terrine or something that involved savoury jell-o. Years ago on the beach outside of Monte Carlo, I had a fantastic homemade terrine, made by my friend's mother-in-law. While I am aware of the fact that she is an excellent cook, as is her daughter, I thought I could improvise anything involving gelatin. Here, I was proven wrong. I should have added more gelatin to every layer. I tried spinach, roasted garlic & peppers and cream cheese with freshly grated horseradish. Did we eat it? Yes. Was it a surreal terrine on the beach of the South of France moment? No. Will anything be a surreal terrine on the beach of the South of France moment? Certainly. I just have to make a few phone calls first.