I started eating seafood about four years ago. As a child, I would have to leave the house if my mom was making tuna-fish sandwiches and put my head between my knees and do deep breathing exercises if I was fish-adjacent at a restaurant. I forced myself to get over this abject fear while at some Cajun joint in southern Louisiana. It was either the grilled shrimp or a zydeco meat pie. I appreciated the transparency in the shrimp option. As it turns out, they were pretty freaking good.

I’ve come a long way since then. I love me some crab. I can tear the ass out of raw tuna. I have embraced the bivalve. Yet with salmon, I am lost. I never really got the appeal – that color, the odor, hacking up those pin bones when they get trapped around the punching bag in your throat. It is just nasty.

My boyfriend, Greg, adores it. He would dangle the option out there like a blood-logged leech-on-a-hook to grill on warm nights or bake on cold ones. He talked of rosemary and ginger and a white wine braise. He talked of superb quality at certain overpriced grocery chains. He talked of the health benefits – the clear skin, the smooth hair, the sustained energy. All the while, I made gagging noises and shook my head like a picky toddler.

But he broke me. In the same spirit of trying shrimp in Louisiana, I decided to capitulate and let Greg make me his salmon. It was the least I could do – I’ve forced him to eat some terrible crap. So I abdicated the kitchen, grabbed myself some wine to calm the freak down and waited for that fish tank smell to permeate the apartment. It never came. Instead I smelled herbs and garlic and white wine. There were the appealing sounds of sharp knives on wood, the crumple of the papery garlic skin and the telltale pop of yet another wine bottle opening. Hallelujah.

Minutes later, he emerged. There were two steaming fillets perched on two of our few matching plates. Next to them, kidney beans braised in stock with jalapenos and onions. Then there was cornbread – actual cornbread made in an actual cast iron skillet – cut into wedges and wrapped in a kitchen towel. I went slackjawed – then my knees buckled. Then I ate.

God, it was good. I guess that means I’m over it.

Greg’s “I’m Over It” Salmon:

2 wild salmon fillets, approx. ½ pound each (defrosted if frozen – those are pretty good)
Tbsp. each minced garlic and ginger, rosemary
One cup decent, dry white wine
A little butter or olive oil, salt and pepper

Heat a biggish nonstick skillet coated with olive oil or butter over medium heat – don’t heat it up empty – nonstickiness emits some scary fumes or something. If it’s butter, keep an eye on it so it doesn’t burn.

Sprinkle flesh side of fillets with garlic, ginger, rosemary, salt and pepper. Pat them down into the meat a little bit. Flip those puppies over into the pan, flesh side down and let ‘em rip for about 4-5 minutes. Carefully turn them so the skin side is down, add wine and partially cover for another 4-5 minutes, or until they’re done the way you like them. Remove, put on a plate and eat the shit out of them. Then demand deviant sexual favors in return from whomever you cooked for.

Quick, Spicy Beans:
(this is actually a different recipe – Greg’s not home now so I don’t exactly know how to make his version. This is something I made up last night. They were pretty dang good.)

Half cup of roughly chopped onions
Half cup of jalapenos (with seeds and ribs) cut into rings
Three cloves garlic, minced
2 cans black beans, rinsed and drained
Half cup of canned, chopped tomatoes with juice
Splash (1/4 cup?) of decent, dry white wine or chicken stock
Salt and pepper
Tbsp olive oil
Chopped cilantro, optional

Heat olive oil in large skillet over medium heat, add onion. Sweat (but do not brown) the onion for a minute or two and then add jalapeno. Do the same. Add garlic. Heat until fragrant and then add the beans. Add salt and pepper and stir the dudes up for a minute. Lower the heat and let the beans simmer in the tomato juices. When they dry up, add the wine and let them simmer in its boozy goodness. Stir periodically. It’s basically ready when the wine is absorbed, the beans are warm and your ass is hungry. Sprinkle with cilantro. Enjoy.

What did you think of this post?

To start your own blog on The Windy Citizen, write to us at windycitizen@gmail.com.