Mindful Plate

Posted by Sheila

Seafood isn’t a staple in our home.  Hailing from the middle of the country and not setting sight on saltwater until I was almost 22, shellfish and fish from the ocean were not really fresh enough or reasonably priced as such to consider.  Not that there was much fresh in my childhood home.  My father, the youngest of 15 children, was the only to be born away from the farmhouse and in the hospital, my grandmother convinced, I can’t imagine how, that this was progress.  And as things began, so they continued, my father never taking to the farm life, and my brother and I only eating fresh, rustic, delicious and wonderful food at his oldest sister’s home.  I knew nothing of it at the time, but now that taste of warm milk just from the cow, real butter, homemade bread, my aunt’s kitchen, so full of life and warmth…now I can appreciate what she had to offer and what my childhood diet sorely lacked.

When Andre and I were first married and living in a very rustic cabin in the wild and wonderful Rocky Mountains of Colorado and were still vegetarians in every other way, Andre learned to fish the sweet rushing creek near our home, and the taste of fresh brook and rainbow trout, along with the wild bolete mushrooms and maybe some other kinds that I can’t recall that he had learned to find as we hiked…this was, I think, my first adult taste of fresh and real food, and true to my everlasting preference, we ate it simply– the flavors, with just a bit of garlic, butter and salt, enough to die for.

Still, after our move to the Pacific Northwest, with the ocean so close and the smell of salt, the wind and weathered views, wet and sandy toes our favorite repreive, we hadn’t chanced more than wild caught salmon on occasion.  Now we are venturing into shellfish, prompted by posts at  www.cheeseslave.com about iodine and b-12 and minerals in general, all things our family shows a few signs of lacking a little.  Besides, our local market sells a lot of Oregon shellfish for us to work with and it has a very special feeling for the kids when we make clams and such.

What led to last night’s(*) seafood stew was kind of a meeting of bouillabaisse, a Provencal seafood stew and San Franciscan  Cioppino, both based on what was on hand, the catch of the day.  This is how I see country cooking, whether it is rustic Italian or French country, or traditional prairie food; it is the food of the land (or sea), of the season, of the place, of the home.  It is simple, it is hearty, it is unpretentious.  It is the kind of cooking I love, the kind I wish was my own heritage, the kind I hope will be my children’s.

Both bouillabaisse and cioppino were fisherman’s stews, meant to feed those working, not buying, the finest fish around.  In France, the fishermen developed this stew using the most commen fish, not the expensive fish for market; in San Francisco, the Italian fisherman called for everyone to “chip in” to the communal stew pot at the end of the day.   As the piles of empty clam shells piled up into treasure piles next to the children’s plates and the hubby smiled and said “that was delicious”, I relished the thought that even the simplest dish made with great ingredients is enough to make this family feel rich.

Last Night’s(*) Seafood Stew

*I use “last night’ rather loosely as this post has been in draft status for a week

• Smoked wild-caught salmon, in chunks
• Oregon bay clams
• Jumbo prawns
• Dungeness crab meat
• Chicken (or veggie) stock
• Leeks
• Butter (or olive oil)
• Dried tomatoes
• Fresh cut lemon-thyme
• fennel seeds
• bay leaf

As I have no more stewed tomatoes from last summer, I used about a half cup (heavily compressed) dried tomatoes.  I left them right in the pint canning jar and filled this mostly full with near boiling water, added the fresh cut lemon-thyme (regular thyme or dried would be good too), fennel seeds and sea salt and let this steep and reconstitute while I chopped the leeks and the salmon.

I sauteed the leeks in butter, both the white and light green parts, cut big, in about 1 inch chunks.  I sauteed these until they were pretty soft with just a pinch of sea salt.  At this point, I added all the seafood, the tomatoes and broth and a little chicken broth– enough for this to be served in bowls with some juice, but not like a soup–along with a bay leaf.  I let the liquids get hot and then put a lid on this and let it simmer at medium-low for about 10-15 minutes.

These kind of seafood stews are usually served with a nice slice of crusty bread to sop up the liquid, or to scoop stew ingredients onto.  We can’t do that here, but have gotten past missing this kind of dinner component.  We had it with arugula tossed with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, and a bit of sea salt, and any simple, winter salad would be enough to round out this very filling stew.