Hunting, Fishing and Other Grounds for Divorce, by Jacki Michels, for the Redoubt Reporter
Or should that be, “Late (period)!”
Last time I was this “late” it was also at the end of salmon season. Our eldest son, Jake, and I had set out to tackle the results of weeks of great fishing.
Jake, after having recently viewed the movie Forrest Gump, set the scene as we gazed at several cases of canning jars. Bodily he stuck out his lip and informed me that salmon was the real fruit of the sea. As the days wore on he randomly blurted out excerpts from the scene where Bubba informs Forrest of all the ways to prepare shrimp, or, in this case, salmon.
“You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, sauté it … .” One case down.
During the packing and processing of cases two and three he went on. “There’s salmon kabobs, salmon Creole, salmon gumbo, salmon pan fried, stir fried, deep fried … .”
From there our family’s recipes infused with Bubba’s and an all-out seafood smorgasbord ensued.
“There’s salmon casserole, salmon stew, salmon chowder, salmon salad (at least three ways to fix that) salmon sandwiches, saloon nuggets, salmon burgers, salmon steaks, salmon soufflé, pickled salmon, smoked salmon, lox, salmon in alfredo sauce … .”
As the cases continued to be filled we crafted a few homemade labels with mouthwatering names of our newest creations. Most noteworthy that season were, “The Bomb BBQ Salmon” and “Maple Jalapeno Death Wish.”
This culinary craziness went on for several days. After we neatly arranged the last few jars in the pantry, we stood back to admire all 110 quart jars of seafruit goodness. On cue, Jake sighed deeply and declared, “Well, that’s about all the ways to make salmon.” A few weeks later my hubby inquired why he was no longer getting his favorite standard lunch, salmon sandwich on homemade bread. What was this lunchmeat product befouling his bread?
I couldn’t explain it other than the mere act of peering into the pantry made me feel pukey — bleh! Six months later Patrick Michels arrived, and to this very day he LOVES salmon — just like his dad and brother. Go figure.
That was 16 years ago.
Thankfully, the only thing running late is this column — salmon season being busy season — and the only thing we are expecting is a move a few miles down the road.
- Grounds for Divorce No. 8002: Packing moving boxes and not labeling them with a detailed listing of contents. Moving boxes are NOT like a box of chocolates! It is not fun to wade through a box wondering what you are going to get.
Jacki Michels is a freelance writer who lives (and loves) in Soldotna.