Batter-Splattered: Home delivery

I had the house to myself one recent evening and was puttering contentedly around said house (God, I love a quiet, empty house) when I heard a big diesel truck pull up out front. A knock at the door followed. I warily approached the front door, not being one to answer to knocks at doors unless I've specifically invited someone over.

Standing there was Uncle Bud. Not my uncle. That's just what people call him. He'd been fishing on the world-famous Copper River and had caught a whole mess of world-famous Copper River salmon and was just stopping by to give my husband some salmon eggs for curing to use as bait. I've heard all about Uncle Bud but this was the first time we met in person.

I must have nodded and smiled enough because just as he was about to hop in his truck and drive away, he hopped back out and told me to bring a bowl, he had some salmon for me. Hot dog! Er, hot fish.

Four lovely filets of Copper River reds:

Look at the texture and color! I should interject here and tell you that I've always been a little skeptical about Copper River salmon. I'm frugal to a fault and Copper River salmon does not come cheap. I've always suspected that the only reason people are willing to pay so much more for it is because everyone makes such a fuss about it. But is it really better than other salmon? Or is everyone just jumping on the bandwagon. I'm not a bandwagon-jumper, no more than I run to answer a knock at the door.

I mean, is Copper River salmon like diamonds? No more intrinsically valuable than any other stone but they're in high demand and so diamond people charge more and more and more for them and consumers keep paying more and more and more? I'm a skeptic is what I'm trying to tell you.

The salmon eggs:

Beautiful, in their own way. I couldn't help but be struck by their similarity to the salmonberries I picked recently, especially that orange berry right in the middle of this photo:

I tucked Uncle Bud's salmon into plastic bags and put it in the fridge for cooking later. And the other night I threw a couple of filets in a frying pan my husband had just used to cook eggs and sausage. I browned the salmon on both sides, sprinkled it with salt and pepper, and served it up on a bed of baby greens with some avocado, some dried cranberries, and some raspberry vinaigrette. I chowed down and it wasn't until I was putting my plate in the sink that I turned and said to my husband, "You'll have to thank Uncle Bud. That was the best salmon I've had in a long time. I mean, it was GOOD."

Outstanding, as a matter of fact. I chalked it up to the residual egg and bacon grease he left in the pan, or maybe the fact that it was fresh salmon rather than the frozen I'm used to. My mind was cycling through all the possible reasons that salmon was so good when he interrupted me to say, "Copper River reds, hon! There's nothing better!"

Dammit.

I have to admit. That was some good fish. I can't even quite put my finger on why it was superior - the texture, the flaking, the extra oil, the color, the flavor? All of the above?

I'm a believer.