Many times over many years I’ve eaten fish freshly caught and cooked: pickeral from Lake Nipissing in North Bay, Ontario, on evening fishing family jaunts, the fish cleaned and fileted by my father, cooked by my mother in a bit of butter, enjoyed by us all; bass from Lake Muskoka, in Gravenhurst, from the dock near our house; smelts caught by my brother’s wife’s father Pat, prepared by her mother Cristina; some kind of fish taken from the ocean of Caye Caulker in Belize and barbequed on the shore. They are delicious memories.
Yesterday the fish came from the freezer, Atlantic salmon, farmed, bought fresh in a small grocery store here on the west coast, on Vancouver Island, popped into the freezer as soon as I got home. Well, there was some similarity of store-freezer -frying-pan. Some. One does what one must in between times.
And yes – the farmed versus wild salmon issue. Atlantic salmon is my very favourite salmon. Spring salmon is second. Atlantic salmon is only available on the Pacific Ocean side of the country (as far as I know – let me know if I am mis-informed, please!) in a farmed state. I dither at the fish counter. At times I decide not. This time – yes.
Here is what I did. I put some vegetable oil in the cast iron skillet and while it was heating a handful of small early potatoes got cut into pieces and tossed lowered gently (they still hissed and spattered) into the hot oil. Then they were covered with a lid and when they started to be brownly fragrant I stirred them around a bit and put the frozen salmon steak on top of them, put the lid back over. Made a salad and then peered in at the fish and potatoes. The salmon was pink and bubbly; the potatoes cooked and crisp. Potatoes got put onto a plate, the fish got turned over, put onto the bottom of the hot cast iron pan and cooked just until a bit crisp. Some lime juice from a lime. Some coarse salt. Al fresco with the lazy sounds birds make in late afternoon.