Batter-Splattered

Now that I've settled into summer and everything is all big and green, I've come to the conclusion that my new house ... I still think of it as new -- I've only been here seven months -- that's new, right? I think you have to inhabit a place for a full year and see all four seasons before you can stop calling it new.

My new house is like a little oasis in the trees. My goal in life when I was a kid was to live in a house where, when you looked out the windows, all you would see is trees. A lofty goal, I know -- you guys can go be doctors and lawyers, I just wanna live in a treehouse. No neighbors. No buildings. Just green, green, green.

I've attained my goal. And if everyone would stop all this incessant talk about foreclosures, I might actually be able to sleep through the night without lying awake, worrying about every little penny I spend.

I guess I should be looking around for a new goal. But I don't really feel like pursuing my other childhood goal which was to be a forest ranger. Or a fish and game biologist (I had a thing for fish hatcheries). I didn't pursue those goals. I think there was too much math and mathy-science involved. So in the alternative, I just take lots of hikes and commune with nature in my own way. No math involved there. Unless you need to use a compass. Oh geez, the compass with its true north and magnetic north and adding this and subtracting that. I carry the compass and some instructions on how to use it ... probably wouldn't work for a fish hatchery though, like if suddenly all my fry started to die and I said, Wait! I have the instructions right here in my pack.

My birthday was this week. When I told my husband I wanted a porch swing for our rather sparsely-furnished screened-in back porch, he whined and said, "Oh, don't get a porch swing... I need to replace the heads on my pickup."

He's a peach, isn't he? Not only would he begrudge me a porch swing, but notice how he also expected I would be the one to go get said porch swing. For myself. On my birthday. I told him he'd better come home with a cake or he was a dead man.

Not to worry though -- mom gave me a fat gift certificate to REI and I loaded on frivolous purchases aplenty. Sunglasses. A pair of pants to yoga in. A pair of very frivolously priced pants to live in. I love Patagonia. And ordinarily, I'd be clinging to that gift card, waiting for sales and coupons but I don't know what came over me. I was there in the store and decided to go crazy and buy stuff. FULL PRICE stuff. Unheard of, for a thrifty gal like me. I was livin' large that day.

Recipes, you say? Wait, you come here for food and recipes, not just girl talk?

Well okay then. Let me tell you about camping food.

I spent this past weekend camping at a public use cabin up near Fairbanks. The Glatfelder Cabin on Quartz Lake.

There were raspberry bushes growing from the roof!:

How fabulous is that?

But poor Charlie Glatfelder had a rather dismal story. He was living in California and one day he pulled out a map and drew a circle around a blue dot right in the middle of Alaska. That blue dot was Quartz Lake.

 

He loaded his military surplus jeep and drove up and got a homestead claim on the lake and lived the first winter in a walled tent on stilts (to avoid bears?) The following summer he dug a root cellar and lived in that the next winter. Then the next summer he built himself a cabin. At first, everything went great -- he had a garden and traded fish or worked for other stuff he needed. But then eventually he lived on just the fish he caught in the lake, pike mostly, and became malnourished. In the 50s, some U.S. Marshalls went to Quartz Lake looking for a missing person and found old Charlie crazy as loon, convinced people were trying to poison him, and they shipped him off to an institution in California where he recovered but never returned to the lake.

Grim, huh? Yeah. Luckily it doesn't get dark here at night in the summertime, otherwise I might have been thoroughly spooked by the history of the place. Some of the people who wrote in the cabin log book said they awoke in the middle of the night to find faces pressed up against the windows, staring in at them.

View from one of the windows:

 

I took one look at the inside of that outhouse (only three walls and overlooking a hiking trail, hhmmm) and decided there weren't enough moist towelettes in the world to fight off dirty like that. So I employed the bushes that weekend -- and from the aroma while employing the bushes, I'd say pretty much everyone else did the same. When camping, you just have to yield to the dirty.

Anyway, the window-faces were geocachers apparently. It's a good thing they didn't come around the nights I was there because I'm pretty sure I would have jumped through the glass at them and run into the woods screaming, "Glatfelder's back! Glatfelder's back!"

I felt especially bad for poor malnourished Charlie because, boy, did we ever eat good that weekend. I felt a twinge of guilt every time I sat on a stump and  tucked into yet another wonderful meal, all cooked in foil packets, the king of campfire cooking methods.

The only thing not packeted would be tbone steaks cooked on a grate over that very fire. Otherwise, it was salmon with roasted red bell peppers, red onions, and portobello mushrooms all drizzled with sesame oil. Fresh vegetables and fresh herbs drizzled with olive oil. Scrambled eggs with vegetables and salmon or sausage. My mouth waters just thinking about it.

If you should find yourself planning a camping trip, I promise you can't go wrong with the following recipes. I hope you have as good a time in the great outdoors as I did.

Bundle of Veggies

Serves six

Feel free to use other vegetables and herbs. I added asparagus and sprigs of fresh herbs like thyme and rosemary.

• 8 ounces whole fresh mushrooms
• 8 ounces cherry tomatoes
• 1 cup sliced zucchini
• 1 tablespoon olive or vegetable oil
• 1 tablespoon butter or margarine, melted
• 1/2 teaspoon salt or salt-free seasoning blend
• 1/2 teaspoon onion powder
• 1/2 teaspoon Italian seasoning
• 1/8 teaspoon garlic powder
• 1 dash pepper

Pile vegetables and herbs on a double thickness of heavy-duty foil (about 18 in. square). Combine the remaining ingredients; drizzle over vegetables. Fold the foil around vegetables and seal tightly. Grill, covered, over medium heat for 20-25 minutes or until tender.

Earth, Sea, and Fire Salmon

Serves eight

• 2 tablespoons olive oil
• 4 (8 ounce) salmon fillets
• 4 medium potatoes, peeled and sliced
• 2 large red onions, sliced into rings
• 1 jarred roasted red pepper, drained and cut into strips (I did this at home before the camping trip because it's kind of messy and oily) 
• 8 ounces portobello mushrooms
• 1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
• salt and pepper to taste
• 1 teaspoon or more of sesame oil

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. On doubled-up sheets of foil, arrange potato slices in a layer. Season with a little salt and pepper. Place a layer of onions over the potatoes, then a layer of roasted peppers, seasoning each layer with salt and pepper as desired. Place salmon fillets over the vegetables and season with lemon juice, salt and pepper. Place whole mushrooms over the fillets, and drizzle them with sesame oil. Seal foil tightly and roast until fish flakes easily with a fork, and potatoes are tender.

Salmon Club Sandwich

Well, my husband has yet to catch a salmon this year in spite of three -- count them -- three overnight fishing expeditions down at the creek. The fish, they just aren't running yet, is what he tells me. Something about high and cloudy water.

He's pretty good with a rod and reel, so I suppose I'll believe him. Although. He doesn't particularly care for salmon and so he leans in the direction of catch-and-release. But. This year I mentioned that if he catches a ton of salmon, we could trade quite alot of it for the halibut that some friends catch by the boatful (literally) every summer in Homer. He perked up at that thought. Now, halibut he likes. I figured he was sure to bring home the salmon if it meant he could swap it for halibut.

But.

Nothing.

Luckily, his friend caught one though and he's plum out of freezer space, so my husband brought that massive king salmon home to store in our freezer and we got to keep some hunks of it.

And when I say 'hunks,' I mean hunks. I'm not kiddin' around. Well, see for yourself:

 

 I whacked that king into chunks and grilled 'em up. And then I used them for this recipe for a salmon club sandwich. That's grilled and toasty sourdough bread there on top.

This particular club sandwich recipe has you whip up a divine lemon basil mayonnaise with minced fresh basil, grated lemon peel and, of course, some mayo. And you can't forget about the bacon. I'll think you'll agree with me that anytime bacon is involved at the dinner table, you're talking party-time. And once you're done cooking the bacon till crispy, you lay those strips on a paper-towel-lined plate, then saute up some sliced red onion in the drippings.

It all comes together to be deliciously sinful. I had mine with a handful of salt and vinegar chips and an Alaskan IPA poured into a glass I specially put in the freezer for an hour or two to get it all nice and frosty..

The original recipe, as provided below, calls for slices of tomato but I didn't include those on my sandwich. For me, salmon and tomato just don't mix. I also don't think halibut and tomatoes go together all that well.

I know, I know. It's a bold statement considering the wealth of halibut-tomato recipes out there, but I'm standing by my aversion.

Just the thought of fish and tomatoes mixing it up together reminds me of being a kid and getting absolutely disgusted if a tiny bit of ketchup touched my baked potato or peas.

And I was in love with ketchup. Still am. In fact, back then, I would not only dip a french fry into a massive plop of ketchup, but I'd also get my fingers in there too so that as I ate the fry, I could lick the extra ketchup off my fingers. Oh dear. My dad thought I was disgusting. And he was right to think so.

But you feel free to go on ahead and slice you up some tomatoes and enjoy this recipe to the fullest.

To me, this tastes like summertime.

Salmon Club Sandwich

Serves four

6 tablespoons mayonnaise
5 tablespoons minced fresh basil
1 teaspoon grated lemon peel

3 tablespoons olive oil
1 tablespoon fresh lemon juice
4 5- to 6-ounce skinless salmon fillets (each about 3/4 inch thick)

8 bacon slices
1 small red onion, sliced

8 1/2-inch-thick sourdough or country-style white bread slices (each about 5x3 inches)
8 tomato slices
8 lettuce leaves

Mix mayonnaise, 2 tablespoons basil and lemon peel in small bowl to blend. (Can be made 1 day ahead. Cover and chill.)

Mix remaining 3 tablespoons basil, olive oil and lemon juice in large glass baking dish. Add salmon to oil mixture; turn to coat. Cover; chill 1 to 4 hours.
Cook bacon in heavy large skillet over medium-high heat until crisp. Using tongs, transfer bacon to paper towels to drain. Add onion to drippings in skillet. Sauté until onion is tender and beginning to brown, about 5 minutes.

Prepare barbecue (medium-high heat). Grill fish until just opaque in center, about 3 minutes per side. Grill bread just until golden, about 2 minutes per side.
Spread mayonnaise mixture over 1 side of bread slices. Top each of 4 bread slices with 2 bacon slices, 2 tomato slices, 1/4 of onion, 1 salmon fillet and 2 lettuce leaves. Cover with remaining bread slices.

  

Cod and Cauliflower and Whale-Watching

Last weekend I went on a day cruise in search of gray whales migrating north on their way from Baja, California up to the Bering Sea. It was a very rare sunny day in Seward, Alaska -- the captain said it had been raining for two weeks straight -- the luck I have, I tell you.

 

That sea lion on the top there? That's how I feel on this long holiday weekend. Just lolling about.

In the end we didn't spot any gray whales. But we did see a humpback whale and we got to float about and watch a pod of killer whales feeding on fish. My friend Annette took that particular opportunity to argue with some of the many small children on board the boat, particularly one talkative little boy trying to share his knowledge of marine mammals.

Little boy: "See that one over there? The one with the tall straight dorsal fin? That's a male."

Annette: "No, it's not."

Little boy: "Yes, it is! The females have shorter curved fins."

Annette: "No. That's not true."

Little boy: "Well, that's what my marine mammal book says."

I was all like, I don't know, Annette. He seems pretty sure of himself. And he has a book.

He slinked off, thoroughly dejected.

He must have been pretty stoked though later when the captain said over the intercom: "And if you'll look at the killer whale at two o'clock, that's a male. You can tell by the long tall dorsal fin."

After watching those whales feed on fresher than fresher fish, I came home with a fierce hunger. Luckily, I had some fresh cod in the fridge just waiting to be cooked up. And along with it, I made an old favorite, this cauliflower salad with white beans, feta cheese, fresh rosemary, and tangy vinaigrette dressing.

The original recipe is here. Their version calls for thinly-sliced Belgian endive but I usually leave that out, partly because it's good without it and partly because the markets here are hit-or-miss when it comes to finding something so exotic. Exotic for Alaska, anyway.

My favorite step in this recipe is the first -- you saute chopped fresh rosemary in olive oil till it's nice and fragrant then set it aside until you're ready to throw all the other ingredients together in a big bowl. By then, the whole house is full of that lovely aroma of olive oil and rosemary.

I usually make a huge bowl of this, even though there's only two of us to eat it (even my meat-loving other half loves it). That way, I can take leftovers to work with me for lunch -- because the cauliflower is uncooked, it stays crispy for days.

The cod recipe is here. It has a tasty shallot-lemon vinaigrette that you're supposed to split between the fish and a salad of fresh herb leaves. This time around, I just made a half recipe of the vinaigrette though and skipped the herb salad.

The flavors of these two recipes go together so nicely and they're both so easy to prepare.

Cauliflower, White Bean and Feta Salad

Serves six

1/3 cup olive oil
1 teaspoon minced fresh rosemary

2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 tablespoon red wine vinegar
2 1/2 teaspoons finely grated lemon peel
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon ground black pepper

1 medium head of cauliflower, trimmed, cut into small florets (about 3 cups)
1 (15-ounce) can white beans (such as Great Northern or navy beans), drained
2 large heads of Belgian endive, trimmed, halved lengthwise, then thinly sliced crosswise
1 tablespoon chopped fresh chives
2 teaspoons chopped fresh parsley
1/2 cup crumbled feta cheese (about 3 ounces)

Combine oil and rosemary in small saucepan. Stir over medium heat just until fragrant, about 1 minute. Cool.

Whisk lemon juice, vinegar, lemon peel, salt, and pepper in small bowl.

Combine cauliflower, beans, endive, chives, parsley, and rosemary oil in medium bowl; toss. Mix in cheese. Add lemon juice mixture and toss to coat. Season salad with salt and pepper. 

Sauted Black Cod with Shallot-Lemon Vinaigrette

Serves two

Mix in small bowl to make vinaigrette:
3 tablespoons olive oil
1/4 cup minced shallots
1 tablespoons fresh lemon juice
1 teaspoon Sherry wine vinegar
1 teaspoons (packed) grated lemon peel
Salt and pepper to taste

Sprinkle with salt and pepper:
2 6- to 7-ounce black cod fillets with skin

Heat in large nonstick skillet over medium-high heat:
1 tablespoon olive oil

Cook fish until just opaque in center, about 4 minutes per side. Arrange fish on plates and spoon vinaigrette over each.   

postcard from Alaska

This would only happen here. My favorite part: "... but I can only take a haunch. I got only a small knife and a bicycle."

I went on a beautiful gray whale watch cruise this past Saturday and on the drive back to Anchorage, I pulled over to watch a hundred or so people doing their hooligan fishing alongside the Seward Highway.

It must be spring -- or maybe it's more like late spring / early summer -- because outside my office window in downtown Anchorage the parks and rec people are hanging baskets of flowers on the lampposts all up and down the street.

The farmers markets are open for the summer!

Suddenly I'm hungry for cod. A nice alternative to the $1000 fish.

copper river time!

Today's the day!

April? or in the alternative, Forever Roasted Pork

So one day, a friend is telling me that she packed her skis away for the season, and we're taking the dogs for a little hike in the late afternoon sunshine (are those some happy looking dogs, or what?)...

... and my husband is selecting logs for people to sit on around the firepit this summer, and I'm remarking that finally all the ice has melted in the backyard ...

... and then?

It snowed all weekend long. Look at those forlorn, snow-covered logs around that firepit.

Snowing. All weekend. After months of nary a snowflake.

Will wonders never cease.

I'm not letting it get me down though. This snow is history as soon as the mercury crawls back up on the thermometer. Maybe it will even tamp out some of the fires that have been sparked lately (I was gonna climb that butte the day it caught fire).

Sunday was the perfect day to stay home, get a little painting done, and visit with Mom. She brought along some of her dried tomatoes and red and green bell peppers:

She used these to make a big pot of baked beans for lunch.

She was the queen of the dehydrator when I was little. She even built her own dehydrator -- a big wooden box on stilts with lots of mesh trays that slid out.

There was so much dried fruit and vegetables around back then, to this day I can't even look at a dried banana slice. Take it away.

But some time has passed and I was happy to get the dried tomatoes and bell peppers and will use them with pride.

As if a big pot of baked beans wasn't enough, I also had a big old pork roast roasting away (crocking away?) in the crock pot on the counter. The market had shoulder roasts on sale and I always feel such a sense of accomplishment when buying a huge hunk of meat for a scant $4.

Four dollars!

I modified a recipe for Forever Roasted Pork that I found on Michael Chiarello's website -- I want one of everything that man sells in his online shop.

I sauteed some onions with fresh sage leaves:

And made a rub of pepper, coriander, and fennel seeds.

And rub-a-dub-dubbed the pork all over:

That bone was supposed to be for the dog. I picked this roast out especially with her in mind but when we sliced into the roast we found the bone was a little too small and pointed to give to her.

She'll never know what she missed.

I was so full of beans by the time this roast was falling-apart-tender that I didn't eat too much of it that day, except to nibble a bit here and there. But we really dug in at lunchtime today. I shredded the cold pork, stirred in a little bit of my favorite barbecue sauce and some shredded cheddar cheese, then warmed it up a little and put it between two toasted pieces of bread. I wish I would have had an avocado to slice and add to the mix but I'm avocado-less at the moment.

But I can't complain.

Forever Roasted Pork

Serve six

2 medium onions, peeled and thinly sliced

2 T extra virgin olive oil

1 - 1 1/2 t finely chopped fresh sage leaves

1/2 c chicken broth

4 lb pork shoulder or leg

2 T fennel seeds or ground fennel

2 T dried coriander powder

2 T pepper

Salt and pepper

Preheat the crockpot while you're chopping and slicing and sauteing.

Saute the onions with a pinch of salt and pepper in the olive oil in a large skillet for one minute or so, then add the sage. Saute for about three minutes, then add the onion mixture to the crockpot and pour the broth over the onions.

Stir the fennel, coriander and pepper together to make a rub. Rub the roast generously with the rub ingredients and place the roast on top of the onions in the crockpot. Cook for six hours or more (I switched it back and forth from high to low occasionally) until the roast is falling apart tender.