
I live in Boston, far from Alaska’s fishing grounds, but in summer I can count on wild salmon from our 49th state showing up on local seafood counters.
King salmon, also known as chinook, is prized for its buttery flavor and coho salmon for its delicate taste and texture. Sockeye salmon, with a deep red-orange color and stronger flavor, happens to be my favorite. Copper River salmon is reputed to develop superior flavor due to the fatty acid stores the fish build during their grueling upstream journey.
More often, I’m buying farmed salmon, fresh or cured, from Norway or the Faroe Islands. It’s available year round. The flavor is pleasant, milder than our West Coast wild salmon. On a trip to Norway last June, I had a chance to visit Hardanger Akvasenter, an educational center for one of the country’s largest fish raising enterprises, in business since 1978.

The young fish (smolt) are raised to a weight of four to six pounds in the fjord’s brackish water, a blend of sea water and fresh water coming down from mountains and glaciers.It was reassuring to learn how this vital Norwegian industry is regulated, calling for generous quantities of water per fish, regular inspections for bacterial levels and parasites, and two-month pauses between batches of salmon.
Afterward, we were treated to a buffet lunch that included baked salmon and an intriguing dish of pickled salmon and beets. It was all delicious and so were our glorious views of mountains and fjord.

I have a long pan for poaching a side of salmon, and can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times I’ve used it. Most of the time I default to a minimalist method of seasoning the fish, adding a gloss of olive oil and roasting it briefly in a hot oven. The roasted salmon recipe in this post calls for mustard and a Mediterranean herb blend in addition to salt and pepper.
Naturally, I had to try that pickled salmon and beet combo, with its intriguing tones of maroon and pink. Slightly tangy, delicate in taste and texture, and dead easy to make. I recommend it.

Smoked salmon appeared on breakfast and dinner buffet tables in all the Norwegian hotels on our trip. It was never embellished, just there as a versatile protein to round out the meal. Mostly I ate it with eggs, instead of bacon or sausage. Here in America, smoked salmon with bagels and all the trimmings is a classic. Smoked salmon plays a role in starter tidbits too–think crostini with creamy goat cheese, a sliver of smoked salmon and a sprig of dill.
Sometimes smoked salmon is sold not in thin slices but a chunkier version.

We like this salmon in salads and, for a recent breakfast, I used it to make salmon hash.


- 1½ pounds fresh salmon
- Sea salt preferably coarse
- Mediterranean herb blend optional
- Freshly ground black pepper
- 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
- 1 tablespoon butter
- 1 tablespoon Dijon-style mustard
- Dill, parsley or chervil leaves
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Preheat oven to 400F. Remove fish bones with tweezers or your fingers.
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Sprinkle sea salt (1 to 1½ teaspoons), herb blend if using (1 teaspoon) and pepper (about ½ teaspoon) over salmon (just one side if skin on). Press spices into fish with your hands.
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In a small saucepan, over low heat, warm olive oil, butter and mustard just until butter melts. Brush over salmon.
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Roast salmon until cooked through (slightly resistant to the touch), 10 to 12 minutes. Broil for the last minute or two if you want a browned appearance.
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Cover surface of salmon with herb leaves. Serve warm or tepid.

- 1 large beet
- 1 cup cider vinegar
- 2 tablespoons sugar
- 2 teaspoons mustard seeds or coriander seeds
- 2 teaspoons kosher salt or sea salt
- 1 teaspoon black peppercorns
- 1 bay leaf
- ½ cup chopped red onion
- 12 ounces sushi-grade salmon cut in 1-inch chunks
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Place beet in a small saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil and simmer until tender (alternatively, the beet can be steamed). Cool, peel and cut in ½-inch cubes (about 2 cups).
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Combine vinegar, sugar, mustard seeds, salt, peppercorns and bay leaf with 1 cup water, the beets and the red onion in a medium saucepan. Bring to a simmer.
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Off heat, add salmon and stir gently, making sure it is fully submerged. Cool and refrigerate.

Smoked salmon is substituted here for the beef in a typical hash. Eat this hash with scrambled eggs or, even better, top with a sunny side-up egg.
- 1/2 cup chopped red onion
- 2 to 3 tablespoons olive oil
- 1 large boiling potato peeled, cut in small dice (about 2 cups)
- 2 medium carrots cut in small dice (about 2 cups)
- sea salt or kosher salt to taste
- Aleppo pepper (Turkish crushed chiles) or freshly ground black pepper to taste
- 4 ounces smoked salmon in one chunk
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In a medium cast-iron skillet or other skillet, over medium heat, saute onion in olive oil until tender.
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Add potato and carrots. Continue cooking, stirring often, until vegetables are tender and start to crust on the bottom. Raise the heat, if necessary, to make this happen; if the mixture is in danger of burning, add a little water.
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Season to taste with salt and pepper. Crumble the salmon into the hash and stir to blend. Cook just until warm.
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Serve with scrambled eggs or top with sunny side-up eggs.







One day recently a can of smoked mussels found its way to some big, luscious Corona beans I’d simmered the day before. A few additions–bell pepper, parsley, olive oil and seasonings–and our lunch salad was ready to eat (see lead photo).









Panissa is one of those Italian foods that defy a simple definition. In Liguria, it’s a fried version of the chickpea-flour polenta known as farinata. (For the record, Sicilians do similar things with their panelle and Provencal cuisine gets into the action with its socca.)









PHOTO


Sometimes I make this herbed focaccia as one element in a meal. Alternatively, toppings such as tomatoes and black olives make it pretty enough to cut in small squares for aperitivo time.
On visits to Canu, a popular bakery in the Tuscan city of Montevarchi, I used to order pizza with colorful toppings, until a friend taught me the real game. Big squares of schiacciata, split and filled with mortadella carved off an enormous log. Easy to do, even when your mortadella is packaged more prosaically in butcher paper.




Sometimes you can make a familiar dish—say, pasta with a mushroom sauce–and suddenly it tastes way better. Because you’ve made a few changes, whether deliberate or random, and the stars aligned in a good way.
Russo’s, a local produce market, has a crazy-big display of cultivated mushrooms. I could have chosen maitake, oyster, trumpet or, for a splurge, chanterelles. I went for great-looking cremini and yellow hedgehog mushrooms, cheaper than chanterelles but with a similar flavor.
The fettuccine I planned to use was an artisanal brand and the radicchio looked deep red and fresh, free of that wan look imported heads acquire when produce staff peel off the darkened outer leaves, week after week.
One more note: A pound of mushrooms to half a pound of pasta makes a very mushroom-dominant dish. In deference to the Italian rule of thumb that pasta sauces and toppings should not overpower the pasta, I would typically go lighter on mushrooms.

Recently I sautéed an onion with the cabbage, adding toasted fennel seeds and diced soppressata. Most important, I used a chef-invented pasta variety from Campania with more tooth–a shape called scialatielli (“ruffle,” maybe). Suddenly the dish seemed more Italian.
Fall is also prime time for kale and other dark, nutrient-rich greens. Every fall I make
Gardeners know Tuscan kale as lacinato kale and, in Tuscany itself, it is called cavolo nero (“black cabbage”). Whatever name you choose, it is truly wonderful. If regular green kale is what you find at the market, it will work well too.

