Second verse, same as the first

I am, once again, letting the weather determine what I eat.

For regular readers, this will hardly seem like ground-breaking news but it cannot go without mention. I look outside to see green all around me, but as I make my way downstairs I notice that the house is still cool in the mornings. The hours progress and the winds pick up just a bit, rustling the newly-opened leaves on the trees and sending delicate blossoms flying in late-spring’s version of a blizzard. The last few days have held the threat of an imminent downpour; ubiquitous greyness encouraging one to curl up their shoulders and head back inside before the rain comes.

Therein lies my problem. I am surrounded by the lush promise of the season, but am wholly dampened by, well, the dampness. Back in February it was easy; snow and cold and ice meant braises and stews and full-on roasts with gravies and sauces and all manner of lovely starchy side-dishes. Comfort came by the ladleful as we hunkered down to watch the white wonderland of weather outside. Fast-forward to May when we are starting to spend our evenings outside again, and a piled-high plate of mashed potatoes and gravy (though delicious) seems just as inappropriate as a down-filled parka.

So what to do to when faced with these misty, blustery, but-still-very-springlike sort of days?

Our inclination has been to steal from the Asian pantry, snatching up inspiration here and there to come up with a combination of flavours that best suit our needs; a touch of chili heat to bolster the valiant efforts of the cloud-locked sun, some tender-crisp vegetables that seem fitting for the season and just a bit of slippery, slurpy noodles or sticky rice to sustain us in combat against the evening’s chill. Miles away from anything remotely authentic, to be sure, but the end by far justifies the improvisational means.

Sticky soy glazed salmon
The glaze is the particular draw of this dish; hot, sweet and salty, it hits every taste bud with full force. I frequently make extra to drizzle over whatever vegetables, noodles or rice I am serving alongside.

Ingredients
5 tablespoons soy sauce
2 garlic cloves, grated
1 teaspoon grated ginger
1 1/2 lbs. (650 g) wild salmon filet, skinned
1 tablespoon sweet Thai chili sauce
1 teaspoon oyster sauce
1 teaspoon brown sugar
1 tablespoons water
Approximately 1 tablespoon canola or other neutral oil

In a shallow dish, combine 3 tablespoons of the soy sauce, the garlic and ginger. Set aside. Cut salmon into strips across the width of the filet, between 1 1/2"-2" wide. Place the salmon, face down, into the marinade and let stand for about 15 minutes, turning once.

Meanwhile, in a small bowl, combine the remaining soy sauce, sweet Thai chili sauce, oyster sauce, brown sugar and water. Stir well to dissolve the sugar. Set aside.

Heat a large skillet over medium high heat. When thoroughly hot, add enough oil to barely slick the surface of the pan. Using a paper towel, blot the salmon dry of any marinade; you do not want the garlic and ginger to scorch in the pan. Place the salmon presentation side down into the hot oil, careful of any splatters. Cook for about 1-2 minutes per side (depending on the thickness of the fish) or until cooked to your liking. Remove the salmon from the pan and set aside, turning the heat down to medium low.

Once the pan has cooled a bit, deglaze with the soy mixture. Stir frequently, scraping up any bits of fish and pan juices that may stick to the bottom. Cook until reduced into a thick sauce, about the consistency of maple syrup (it will continue to thicken as it cools). Spoon or brush the glaze over the salmon and serve.

Serves 4.

Notes

• In the spirit of full disclosure, I had meant to include some of the glaze drizzled over the presentation. However, a certain little boy had his eye on this plateful of food and so I made him up a serving and the reserved glaze was gobbled up rather greedily. In fact, many of my shots have fidgety little digits making their way into the edge of frame.
• If your salmon filet is a centre cut, you may want to cut the strips thicker for easier handling.
• These greens make a wonderful accompaniment along with a spoonful of the aforementioned sticky rice.
• A note on fish and pregnancy, and general food safety for those with compromised immune systems. While salmon is an excellent source of protein and Omega-3 fatty acids beneficial to the healthy development of the brain, there is a bit of controversy concerning farm-raised salmon and levels of mercury ingested by pregnant women. As such, wild salmon purchased from a reputable fishmonger is by far preferred. While I do enjoy my salmon on the rarer side when I am not eating for two, anyone pregnant, nursing, elderly, very young or who has an otherwise-weakened immune system should always cook salmon (and all meats) to well-done.

Early influences

Growing up, my best friend was right next door. It was one of those friendships where sleepovers were weekly, staying over for dinner was almost daily, and company was constant. We were lucky enough to live on a street where everyone knew everybody, where children ran freely from yard to yard wreaking havoc and laughter. It was a great place to live, with pool parties and backyard barbecues crowned with sparklers at the end.

Beyond the fun we had, my most vivid memory of these childhood friendships was the food. I think of those barbecues and I can taste the juice of sticky sweet watermelons, I think of strawberries picked from the bushes in the backyard, and of fingers stained a myriad of rainbow colours from Fun Dip.

But most of all I think about the kitchens - ours and the one next door. While our house was filled with the flavours of India and England, theirs was bursting with those of Italy. So as much as my Grandmother's shepherd's pie and my Mother's chicken curry figure largely in my remembrance of childhood, so do jars and jars of pickled red peppers, tender veal cutlets, and handmade breads for the holidays. The alchemy of homemade wine was a mystery to us. I was fascinated by the yearly ritual, and the enormous glass carafes that would take up residence in the basement. Oh goodness, and Nutella - that wonderful dark chocolate and hazelnut spread that is nothing short of ambrosia to a 6 year old.

As kids, we ate all meals at home, walking home from school at lunchtime. As far as I can recall, the business of meals was simply part of the daily ritual. I never had the impression that it was a bother, or that it was a chore (though it must have been, sometimes).

I cannot help but think that it was this assumption of good, fresh food that has shaped how I cook today. Even when tired or frustrated, it is not often that I am too tired to cook. I may be vexed about my day, but I am not vexed about the food. Sure, it may sometimes be simple, but the process of preparing food is integral to the routine of my day; I feel I have forgotten something without it.

I am thankful for those early influences, and that food and philosophy are remembered fondly - and often. As with most of us, I am sure, pasta has endured as a comfort food in our household. In its preparation, I sometimes stop to remember those meals from years ago, hoping I can come close to those tastes.

While this vegetable bolognese is far from traditional, and nothing I had as a child, it still brings me that sense of comforting nostalgia. Slowly stirred aromatic vegetables cooked until deeply flavoured and tender, then served with hot pasta and a snowfall of Paremsan - how memorable is that?

Vegetarian bolognese
My version was a combination of recipes; as I did not write down quantities as I cooked, I thought it best to simply provide the same guides I used. If anyone would like specifics, please feel free to contact me.

Sources:

• Pappardelle with vegetable bolognese from Epicurious
• Rigatoni with vegetable bolognese from Giada de Laurentiis

Specific changes and notes:

• Added 1/2 a large eggplant and 1 medium zucchini to the vegetables called for. As I prefer my mushrooms and eggplant to be well caramelized and golden, I cooked them separately from the rest first, then added them to the soffritto as per the recipe.
• 6 oil packed sundried tomatoes were puréed and added along with the tomato paste.
• The wine was replaced with vegetable broth and a splash of red wine vinegar.
• The photograph featured does not include marscarpone, as I intended to freeze a portion; the dairy is added just before serving, and I do believe the sauce needs a bit of richness at the finish. Full fat cream cheese can be used if mascarpone is unavailable.
• This sauce is particularly nice when thinned with a bit of pasta cooking water, then tossed through with your favourite medium tube pasta and chunks of fresh mozzarella.