Salmon defines the Northwest. Sure, plenty of other countries fish and consume the Pinky Tuscadero of the marine world, but we eat it best — like real men … and women. We don’t slice it thin on a bagel, or serve it raw over rice — we club it, filet it over an open fire and spit out the bones. We learned that from our nature-loving, resourceful and spiritual Native American neighbors, (not our wood-paneled sauna loving neutral forefathers). We expect a firm yet moist flesh minus heavy sauces. We want to taste the smoky meat, and claim the fish our own. We also enjoy wiping the fatty meat moistened with butter off our faces with the back of our mossy hands.

 

Salmon in the NW — it’s what’s for dinner.

And yet …

How often is it that even exceptional restaurants manage to serve a substandard filet of salmon? I asked Weekly Volcano critic Jason de Paul about this.

“The diner must be proactive in the restaurant,” de Paul says. “When one orders beef, typically the cut and cook time is well spelled out between the server and the customer. Salmon is no different. First, be sure it is a wild salmon on the menu — those have the best flavor because, unlike Atlantic salmon grown on farms, the wild guys live a healthier lifestyle without antibiotics and overcrowding — and you taste that in the meat. Next, tell your server how you like your salmon prepared — most of the time it arrives to order. Be specific — most connoisseurs like the flesh medium-rare, rosy pink inside but not jelly-like. The fish should give slightly when pressed but not too much.”

Shouldn’t the chef just do it right?

“You’d be surprised,” de Paul answers, “how many people like their fish overcooked. I think a lot of chefs aim for the middle ground.” 

The best example

Want a good idea how salmon should taste? You need a boat or make a call to Argosy cruises in Seattle — the best example is on Blake Island at the salmon bake.

 

It may sound like a tourist trap, however, seriously, the salmon they prepare consistently makes top grades. 

Blake Island sits in the Sound to the north of Vashon Island. There, Tillicum Village features a longhouse and Native American show, and, although not owned by Native Americans, the salmon cooked for the daily feast (weekends only in the colder months) is prepared in that tradition. Four-foot poles with cedar slats hold the filleted salmon over outdoor alder-wood fire and slow cooked to perfection. The results are perfectly seared, moist and fatty salmon served with other dishes that pale in comparison. Go to www.tillicumvillage.com for the particulars.

On my own

Sometimes, of course, you should take matters into your own hands.

 

This year I plan to repeat my salmon methods from last year, purchasing my own wild filets from, of all places — Albertsons, and cooking at home with a spice I received from El Gaucho.

All during winter 2008, Albertsons on Steilacoom Boulevard in Lakewood offered fresh (most of the time), wild (almost exclusively) caught steelhead for $4.60 to $8 a pound depending on the week. The flavor and aroma were stellar.

I ate salmon once or twice a week from January through April. Most of the time, I cooked it simply with the El Gaucho spice. The spice retails for $15, and you can pick it up at any El Gaucho location. They don’t divulge the ingredients, but I’d call it a Johnny’s Seasoning-like concoction with a more gourmet, smooth taste. It’s ideal for salmon.

Once home with both components, I took the steelhead, spritzed a light layer of olive oil on the meat, spread the El Gaucho spice across the sheen then baked the fish at 400 degrees until medium-rare. 

On step further

With salmon season coming to an end or already over, depending on the area, catching your own dinner takes dropping everything now and throwing out a line — and nothing is more rewarding.

 

Tom Nelson, chief instructor at the online-based fishing school run from the north end of Hood Canal (www.salmonuniversity.com), offers tips for salmon fisherman.

 

Nelson says the flavor is in the kill.

“You have to hit the salmon on the head — stun it, cut its gills, bleed it out for 15 minutes, clean it then put it immediately on ice,” Nelson describes. “That process improves the flavor.”

Nothing brings a Pacific Northwesterner closer to home than catching a salmon and cooking it. Nelson, who incidentally helped develop many of the techniques and lures used by the top West Coast sports anglers, has caught and cooked salmon most of his life. There may be no better example of a modern Northwesterner. So, I asked Nelson which species of salmon he likes best.

 

“I’ve eaten so much salmon I’ve lost my taste for it,” he confesses. “I don’t touch the stuff anymore.”

Never mind.