Steaming salmon over a bed of vegetables in wine keeps fish moist and delivers delicate flavor. Recipe below.
This is the salmon dish I was going to prepare last week, before painting the living room got in the way. So it’s a week late—and given my history with fish, it’s much later than that.
Fish and I haven’t always been on the best of terms. I grew up in the midwest—St. Louis, to be exact—before reliably fresh fish was readily available in just about any supermarket. Fish for my family was frozen, breaded ocean perch, fried up and served with canned stewed tomatoes, cold from the fridge, and my grandmother’s sour German cole slaw. Even though we weren’t Catholic, this dreaded meal appeared without fail every Friday. So Friday became my day of semi-fasting at the evening meal, breaking up the fish and tomatoes with my fork and redistributing them around the plate, while consuming as little as humanly possible. I don’t think I fooled anyone at the table—I just outwaited them. Eventually, I would be excused so dinner dishes could be washed.
If this weren’t enough to put me off fish, every winter also brought daily tablespoon-sized doses of cod liver oil, which tastes exactly like its name. I can’t remember now what my mother thought this vile, viscous liquid would ward off. What it in fact warded off was any hope of me liking fish for many years to come.
So of course I married a fish lover. Marion, to her credit, was patient and gentle with me as she gradually reintroduced seafood to my palate—much as one would be with any rescued abused creature. She only served fish occasionally and then, only milder-flavored species. That she is a superb cook also helped. But it took years before I willingly chose fish in a restaurant if any creature that had walked the earth was also offered on the menu. And even more years before I attempted to cook fish.
Now I really like fish—like cooking it too. Thanks, Marion! After you try this simple, quick, delicious dish, I think you’ll thank her too.
This recipe is as much a technique as it is a specific recipe. Yes, I’ll give you all the particulars of how I prepared this version, but feel free to improvise at will. In fact, this recipe is an improvisation itself. One day, Marion remembered having cooked fish this way years ago, before we’d met. It sounded interesting, so I ran with it.
Basically, you’re steaming fish fillets over a bed of vegetables—in this case, salmon over red bell pepper, onion, celery and zucchini. You want enough vegetables so that when you add the liquid—I use a dry white wine—the fish fillets can sit on top of the vegetables, without touching the liquid.
Steaming cooks the fish quickly and gently, leaving it nice and moist. And the flavors in the recipe below all work together beautifully, with nothing big or dominating. The vegetables are fresh tasting [and no, they’re not at all “fishy”], the fish delicate. The tarragon and the wine add their own notes without taking over the dish.
Steaming the fish also doesn’t leave the kitchen smelling like a fish market at the end of a long day, no small consideration in winter with an unvented stove and closed windows. I wasn’t exactly sure why the kitchen—and indeed the apartment—wasn’t filled with lingering fish smell when cooked this dish, so I asked Helen, who writes the excellent food blog Beyond Salmon. Here’s what she had to say:
“Different fish have different amounts of smell in their raw state. When completely fresh, salmon should smell like absolutely nothing, but bluefish on another hand might still have a bit of a sea smell. That’s the smell before cooking. But what really effects the smell of your house during cooking is the cooking method. Poaching, steaming, baking and broiling do not stink up your place [unless you overcook the fish]. Pan searing, deep frying, and grilling do smell, particularly if you are cooking a fatty fish. The cooking methods involving liquid [poaching and steaming] are the safest in terms of smell—you have to overcook by a LOT to get them to smell. Baking and broiling are more sensitive. I often hear from people that their fish smells even if they bake it, but then it turns out that they were baking a thin little fillet for 20 minutes at 400ºF.”
By the way, Helen has recently announced that [1] she quit her day job to run her part-time cooking school full time, [2] she and her husband Jason are expecting her first child and [3] Jason just completed his PhD. That she still found time to be so generous with her helpful tips is greatly appreciated. Thanks, Helen!
Okay, so here’s the recipe—better late than never.
Salmon Tarragon on a Bed of Vegetables
1 red bell pepper, cored, seeded and sliced
1 medium onion, cut into thick slices
2 celery ribs, sliced into 1-inch chunks
1 zucchini, sliced on the diagonal into large chunks [optional—I had it so I used it]
1 tablespoon olive oil
1 teaspoon dried tarragon, divided
1 cup dry white wine
3 6- to 8-ounce salmon fillets, with or without skin [or 2 or 4, depending on your needs]
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste
Heat a large lidded skillet over a medium to medium-high flame. When the pan is hot—about 90 seconds or when the rim feels hot to a quick touch—add the oil. Add the vegetables and toss to coat with oil. Add 1/2 teaspoon of the tarragon and salt and pepper to taste, and sauté the vegetables for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally to keep them from burning.
Meanwhile, salt and pepper the flesh side of the salmon [even if the skin is removed, you can tell which side was the skin side by looking at it]. Sprinkle the remaining tarragon over the fish.
After the vegetables have sautéed for the 5 minutes or so, pour in the wine. Arrange the salmon fillets skin side down on the vegetables and cover the pan with the lid. Reduce the heat to medium-low and let the fish steam until done. Depending on the thickness of the salmon, about 7 minutes should do. The salmon may be slightly pink inside, which is actually a good thing.
Place salmon fillets on plates and arrange vegetables beside them, using a slotted spoon. You don’t need to use the liquid in the pan when you plate the food—it’s already served its purpose by steaming the fish. Serve immediately.
Kitchen Notes
In selecting your vegetables, just be careful to choose ones that cook in about the same amount of time. Carrots wouldn’t be good, for instance. Alternatively, you can just start sautéing vegetables that require more cooking time earlier to give them a headstart. You could also just use, say, red, yellow and green bell peppers, throwing in an onion for some variation in flavor and texture.
There are two reasons to cut the vegetables on the chunky side: First, it helps them support the fish above the liquid better. And second, they’re more interesting to look at on the plate and to eat than more finely chopped vegetables.
Terry’s childhood memories of the horrors of fish reminded me of my own memories – which are just the opposite. Growing up in a small town in upstate New York, we rarely got to see any fresh fish in our house. In fact, although we didn’t have much money, my dad worked in a butcher shop and almost every meal was top quality steak, lamb chops, veal, or chicken. I know…poor baby. But I longed for other tastes. So every Sunday, my mom would make Mrs. Paul’s fish sticks. The crispy crumbly crust of the fish sticks went really well with the soft milk-and-butter mashed potatoes and canned peas. Although I now adore fresh fish and all its wonders (your salmon recipe looks fabulous, Terry), I can still feel my excitement at the smell of Sunday.
… and I remember with horror those stewed tomatoes that went from can to a saucepan full of torn bread. What a sorry, soggy mess! Life is so much better now that I control what goes into the saucepan. Great pictures, Terry. I’m starved.
Hi Terry,
The recipe sounds fabulous! I am so sorry to hear your story of early childhood abuse by a fish. Frozen breaded fish can be quite dreadful. Congratulations on getting over your fear of fish. Finally learning to like an ingredient can be so rewarding. For me, it’s the goat cheese. I just started liking it this year. It was one of those early childhood abuse stories that I’ll have to write about sometimes. I kept trying it for the past 5 years with no luck until finally this year I found a goat cheese I liked and the spell was broken — now I can eat pretty much all of them 🙂
Cheers,
-Helen
Ronnie—What a great story! It’s so funny what strikes each of us as exotic. Because Marion and I both love to cook, our daughters became accustomed to spices and sauces and all sorts of cuisines. Once when I was just in the mood for making [and eating] plain old hamburgers, one of the girls commented on the irony that, at our table, burgers were an exotic treat.
Helen—Thanks for the kind words. Glad you were persistent with goat cheese—and were rewarded for that persistence. Speaking of goat cheese, in October, an article in the New York Times’ food section reported that Laura Chenel’s Chèvre, one of America’s first and largest artisanal goat cheese companies, had been sold to a large French conglomerate (the Rians Group). The good news was that she very much still intends to run the company—and to keep making “a fresh goat cheese that some call the best in America.”
One place to find some of her creamy chèvre is at Trader Joe’s. It doesn’t bear her name—it’s sold as a house brand. But just look for the words “Fresh from Sonoma County” on the label. We have some in the fridge right now. To make sure I got the Sonoma message right, I went and looked at it—so now, of course, I’m having some on crackers as I write this.