What I Made for Dinner: August 9, 2010

Poached salmon, pasta con broccoli.

The fish I ate in Alaska was the best fish I've ever had.  Having grown up in the Great Plains, I'm not a huge fish aficionado, but I know good stuff when I get it.  (And I've eaten some good stuff, by the way:  clams and lobster in New England, red snapper in Bali, blue crab in Maryland, seafood paella in Barcelona.  I used get around a little before I had kids.)

But this Alaska fish!  First off, we went hiking in Tongass national forest

Sitka spruce, hemlock, guide

 and the guides had a cook camp where they made this delicious clam chowder over a fire. 
 

The secret was a load of dill and the smoke from the fire.  Yummmm.  They also served smoked salmon, which was great.  Firm, smoky and salty but not overpoweringly so, and not remotely fishy.

Then we went to the Crab Cracker Seafood Bar, where I ate grilled-halibut tacos.  Simple, right?  But the fish tasted so fresh, clean and delicate.  The Crab Cracker was also where Alex discovered his deep affinity for fish and chips.

In Juneau, Jenna had scouted for us a restaurant called Hangar on the Wharf.  It had a fun pub-and-grill atmosphere with a pretty view, where the kids could watch seaplanes come and go.  I got a macadamia-crusted halibut filet.  It was delicious, but even more remarkable was the beer,

 

Kodiak Brown Ale from Midnight Sun Brewery in Anchorage.

Our last land meal in Alaska was at the Skagway Brewing Company.  The salmon sandwich there is seriously one of the best pieces of fish I've ever tried, and I don't think it was just because I'd had a couple pints of Spruce Tip pale ale (no picture, of course).

All of this is to say, I miss the fish.  Can't get the fresh stuff here on the prairie.  But you can go to Costco and buy a nice big bag of frozen wild Alaskan sockeye salmon.  It defrosts into beautifully pink fillets that you can poach according to this recipe, and then while you eat you can consider the privilege you had, just a few days ago, to see a river so full of salmon that you probably could have reached in with your bare hands and pulled out a couple.