The Secret Language of Fish, Part 6

Orange, vermilion, and salmon

We are so accustomed to seeing salmon flesh in just that precise persimmony shade of pink that we've even given it place in our lexicons. Truth be told, the flesh color of the salmon (and their closest cousins the trout and char) varies quite a bit and is dependent largely upon diet. A live-fish diet makes the flesh more pink. The slightly more orange color in most salmon is due to supplementing that mostly-fish-diet with squid and shrimp. Trout, char, and salmon in streams, living on a diet heavy with insects and larva have pale, nearly white flesh. A predominantly shellfish diet will turn the flesh bright yellow. Farmed fish are fed supplements to color their flesh because the market just won't bear off-white salmon.

As I've mentioned in earlier entries, I prefer sockeye salmon. Sockeye flesh is redder than that of any other salmon, trout, or char, and it retains a bit more color when it cooks. I believe sockeye has a richer flavor, and it seems to keep better than other members of family Salmonidae. Part of my preference might be simple superstition. I've had bad coho, bad Atlantic salmon, and bad king salmon. I've not yet had a sockeye purchase go wrong. Then again, mine might be a more complex superstition—sympathetic magic: more depth of color equals more depth of flavor.

Still, there's something about that color—that salmon color—that leaves me questioning a lot of choices we all tend to make regarding how we cook and dress salmon. Like many other cooks, I long ago decided that orange juice and orange zest are ideal accompanists for salmon. Is it just the color? Is it my inner interior decorator telling me to pair orange-pink flesh with blood oranges and tangerines?

Well, that might have had something to do with the original selection, but I certainly can't take credit or blame for the pairing. Salmon glazes have included orange-juice almost as long as ham glazes have included pineapple. In Texas restaurants where everything that isn't barbecue finds its way into the Tex-Mex canon, salmon is often served with an orange-chipotle sauce or glaze. (We're so in love with chipotle chiles that I'm surprised no one has yet started a string of Texas chipotle ice cream parlors or chipotle coffee shops.)

If you taste a bit of cooked salmon (yes, or trout or char) with no other seasoning than a bit of salt, you can readily taste the reason oranges work with salmon. Salmon has a light, buttery sweetness. A little fruity sugar enhances the natural sweetness of the fish. A little tartness gives sparkle to that buttery quality just as lemon does for the butter in sauce Hollandaise. I've used the salmon/orange pairing with some success in the recent past (for details, see Charred sockeye with tomato-orange escabeche in my entry Words, words, words).

Of course, if the orange and salmon color combination seems just a little too much like a fashion statement, you can substitute any of quite a few other fruits or berries. Some experimenters have had quite a bit of luck with kumquats, mango, pineapple, blackberry, and raspberry. According to Gordon Ramsay in an episode of his Kitchen Nightmares, strawberries don't pair well with salmon. I also wouldn't bet on cherries. The tartness in strawberries (I'm guessing) is a bit too astringent to work with salmon. Cherry, I think, would overpower the fish.

Recently, I paired a more-or-less traditional glaze with an apple-based salsa. The results were outstanding. I say "partly traditional" because I melded a couple of fairly traditional salmon glaze elements that are not usually used together (maple syrup, orange zest, wasabi, Dijon mustard, and lime juice). I added the salsa to provide texture and to give a little depth. From experience with a number of sushi rolls I've sampled, I knew that hot chiles mixed with wasabi give a different depth of burn than either hot element alone. The chiles burn the tip of the tongue; the wasabi burns the back of the throat.

Glazed sockeye with apple salsa

dramatis personae

glaze:

2 tbsp wasabi powder
2 tbsp lime juice
zest of one medium orange
2 tbsp dark amber maple syrup
1 tbsp Dijon mustard

four five-ounce pieces of salmon filet, scaled
sea salt
black pepper

salsa:

honey crisp apple (with peel), diced
celery rib
serrano chili, seeded and minced
1 tsp cider vinegar
1 tsp olive oil
salt

quality of ingredients

Wasabi powder is sold in most places that sell bulk spices, but it really isn't wasabi. The stuff we're given in most US restaurants is a mix of horseradish and spirulina. Wasabi is damned difficult to come by in the US. I've seen the roots for sale in two stores in Austin, and both places were asking $250 per pound. I have no idea whether real wasabi would work in this recipe. I believe I could substitute Chinese hot mustard for the combination of wasabi and Dijon mustard, but I haven't had a chance to try it.

When I buy oranges to use for zest, I nick the rind with a thumbnail to verify that it's sufficiently aromatic. Some large navel oranges with thick, brightly colored rinds can have surprisingly weak-smelling zest. If you can't smell it, you won't taste it.

I used dark amber maple syrup and strongly recommend avoiding any kind of imitation. I had originally planned to use honey, but I was out of honey. I will probably try honey next time.

For more on sockeye salmon, see Words, Words, Words.

I could only think of three apples that I might have used for the salsa: fujis, pacific roses, or honeycrisps. All three varieties are sweet, crisp, and fruity, and all three have their charms. For this particular recipe, honeycrisps offered the best balance of sweet and tart.

Serrano chilies are variable but tend to be hot without being too hot for my girls. Jalapeños or green hot fingerlong chilies would work.

preparation notes

Preheat the oven to 400F (375F convection).

Mix the glaze ingredients together thoroughly.

Coat the bottom of a flat-bottomed backing dish with vegetable oil. Place the salmon filets skin side down on the oil. Salt and pepper the filets. Cover the filets with the glaze and bake them for 8 minutes or until a fork will readily separate the segments.

The salsa is simple enough that you can prepare it while the fish is baking.

Serve each filet with a heaping tablespoon of salsa.