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Salmon Quotes

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Salmon Quotes

“Could you imagine what a salmon would say if you asked it about its life? We think our lives are miserable? If only a salmon could speak. This fish spends half of its life swimming upstream, only to reach a body of water where either a bear catches it or it lays eggs only to die right afterward. What are we complaining about then? A salmon does what a salmon does. It doesn’t complain.”

“I spotted a duo of pouchy handmade raviolis: spinach and ricotta with fresh tomato sauce, and porcini in sage butter. Their fish dish was salmon with a skin so crispy it looked like crackling and their handmade pappardelle was tossed with braised rabbit. They went even more rustic with their desserts, albeit with elevated flavor combinations, like an orange flower torte with pine nuts, and a honey semifreddo with apricot lime sauce.”

“In addition to a stack of small white plates, a basket of rolled cloth napkins, and a pile of polished silver forks, there is baked Brie in puff pastry, caviar with blinis (caviar!), a shallow bowl of beautiful purple grapes with a sterling silver pair of scissors placed beside it, poached shrimp with cocktail sauce, and a pale pink mold in the shape of a fish with crackers surrounding it, thin lemon slices and capers on top. "That's not the salmon mousse from the Silver Palate, is it?" I ask. The salmon mousse from the Silver Palate is perhaps my favorite thing to eat in the world. "Oh shoot," she says, and I can all but imagine her stomping her little foot. "You found me out. Is it just so tacky I brought in food from the city? I did press the mousse into the fish mold myself, and I also fixed the Brie. That is, I put some apricot jam on it and wrapped it in Pepperidge Farm puff pastry dough.”

“After more sake, we dipped into salmon roe for fecundity, followed by salmon and kelp rolls. We also had slices of rare beef that had been seared in a drip of soy, plus grilled duck and pickled lotus root rounds, representing the root of the lotus flower that blooms in the lake of the Land of Happiness where Buddha lives. Each morsel lay nestled in separate sections of the various lacquer boxes. "Have some tai (sea bream)," said Tomiko, passing me a container holding several slices of the coral-red fish, eaten because it sounds like medetai, meaning "auspicious.”

“This is salmon takikomi gohan. You slice the salted salmon into fillet strips and grill just its skin first to give it a savory scent. Then you cut it into cubes and cook them along with the rice. By placing some Japanese wild parsley on it before eating it, the fishy scent will disappear, making it even more better to eat." "Hmm. I like how they grilled the skin first to give it the savory scent. And cooking the bones with the rice really brings out the flavor." "This takikomi gohan lets you taste every essence of the salmon." "The next one is a classic maze gohan, hijiki rice. A good hijiki is one that's thick and long, with a slight firmness to it. You cook that hijiki along with carrots, shiitake mushrooms, lotus roots and thin fried tofu into a sweet and salty taste and then mix them into the cooked rice." "Ha ha ha. This is definitely a very Japanese flavor!" "It's rustic, but it has a rich, fertile flavor that moves my heart.”

“Seafood is also something we cannot do without as a country surrounded by sea. And the rich variety of seafood is often used in rice balls. The first one is a classic rice ball, with salted salmon. It's slightly different since the grilled salted salmon is broken down into flakes... ... and mixed into the rice together with chopped green onion... ...then made into a rice ball and wrapped in roasted dried seaweed." "Ah, the salmon has been mixed nicely into the rice, so it has a very rich taste." "And the flavor of the green onion gets rid of the fishy scent of the salmon, making the rice ball taste even better." "This will be great to have in a lunch box." "The next rice ball is coated with shredded dried seaweed just like the last one, but the filling is different. It's sea urchin, but it's not raw sea urchin or the typical bottled sea urchin. It's sea urchin shiokara." "Sea urchin shiokara?" "Most of the typical bottled sea urchins have been steeped in alcohol. It's probably because they're easier to make and easier to eat. But in the old days, sea urchin was often made into shiokara. If you salt the sea urchin and let it age and ferment, it becomes far richer tasting compared to a raw sea urchin or the alcohol-macerated sea urchin. Nowadays, that sea urchin shiokara has become very rare, and many people don't even know what it tastes like. So I've decided to use it as a filling for the rice ball." "Ooh, it has such a rich taste." "By being fermented, the sea urchin has developed a completely different flavor along with the original flavor it had.”

“The spinach affects a lot! Its mild bitterness adds depth to the flavors surrounding it. It is highly nutritious, and its green color is a pleasing contrast to the golden-brown crust. But most of all... ... when wrapped around the salmon, it condenses and accentuates the fish's savory goodness!" "Oh yeah! I thought I tasted a hint of bitterness when I took a bite. So that was the spinach! That bite of bitterness made the sweet and mellow flavor of the salmon's oil stand out even more!”

“Just a little bit of bitter spinach... ... isn't nearly enough to explain that gushing riptide of savory salmon flavor! "You're right. There is another trick to it. When I made the crepe, I added both spinach... ... and this spice mix to it." "A SPICE MIX?!" Spice mixes, also called seasoning mixes or spice blends, are original mixes of herbs, seasonings, salt and pepper. Infinitely adjustable, spice mixes are the ultimate in seasoning, usable in just about every situation. "Spices!" "My mix uses salt, pepper, thyme, oregano, garlic... ... and dried bacon powder.”

“Knives sliced cleanly through the salmon, pink flesh flaking on either side, the crust giving way with a satisfying crunch. Lenore and Maz were eating, too, but I kept my eyes fixed on Luke's fork. He tried a bite of the salmon plain first, chewing thoughtfully, then swept up some of my rice porridge with the seaweed-pickled vegetables, then returned for a bite of everything together, pink salmon and white porridge and pops of green and red all entering his parted lips. He closed his eyes as he tasted my food. He didn't open them again until he swallowed. "The salmon is perfect," he said. "Flaky and tender, with just the right amount of smoke, and the crunch of that crust is just..." He paused, those bottomless eyes on mine. The tip of his tongue darted over his lower lip. "Incredible." I didn't mean to smile, just nod appreciatively at any praise, but I felt it curl over my lips anyway. "Thank you." "I agree," said Lenore. "The salmon is something quite special. Is the crust rice alone?" "No," I said. "It's ground rice with some panko and a little nori." She nodded with approval. "And these seaweed-pickled vegetables are stellar. Bright and tangy, a lovely pop of acid against the richness of the salmon and the porridge.”

“Ye ken, man laird, while I just dive richt to the bottom o a linn, and set doon there; ye'd think it was the inside o the Fairy Hill. Trooties, ye ken, and saumon, and they awfu pike, a comin round ye, and they bits o water weeds, waggin aboot like lairch trees in the blast. I mind ae time I stoppit doon nigh aboot half an hour. Maybe no just sae much, ye ken, but time gaes awfu quick when ye're at the bottom o a linn.”

“The salmon is a symbol of prosperity and determination to the Coast Salish tribes, the band of tribes in the Pacific Northwest of which the Jamestown S'Klallam Tribe is a part. She defies nature, swimming upstream to provide for the people of the land. Yet she must sacrifice herself to give that abundance to others. Her determination comes at a deep personal cost.”

“At first glance, it looks like some kind of ice cream... ...! It isn't sweet. I see. It's salmon ice cream, but made without sweetener." "He made salmon into ice cream?! But how?!" "The Cryogenic Grinder." "Ah! That's Alice Nakiri for you. Got it in one guess. I pureed some salmon with a blender and then froze the resulting paste, putting it through the Cryogenic Grinder. The high-powered blades of the grinder minced the paste into a fluffy and silky soft ice cream.”

“The scariest thing is that nobody seems to be considering the impact on those wild fish of fish farming on the scale that is now being proposed on the coast of Norway or in the open ocean off the United States. Fish farming, even with conventional techniques, changes fish within a few generations from an animal like a wild buffalo or a wildebeest to the equivalent of a domestic cow. Domesticated salmon, after several generations, are fat, listless things that are good at putting on weight, not swimming up fast-moving rivers. When they get into a river and breed with wild fish, they can damage the wild fish's prospects of surviving to reproduce. When domesticated fish breed with wild fish, studies indicate the breeding success initially goes up, then slumps as the genetically different offspring are far less successful at returning to the river. Many of the salmon in Norwegian rivers, which used to have fine runs of unusually large fish, are now of farmed origin. Domesticated salmon are also prone to potentially lethal diseases, such as infectious salmon anemia, which has meant many thousands have had to be quarantined or killed. They are also prone to the parasite Gyrodactylus salaris, which has meant that whole river systems in Norway have had to be poisoned with the insecticide rotenone and restocked.”

“We begin with an onion soup as smoky and fragrant as autumn leaves, with croutons and grated Gruyère and a sprinkle of paprika over the top. She serves and watches me throughout, waiting, perhaps, for me to produce from thin air an even more perfect confection that will cast her effort into the shade. Instead I eat, and talk, and smile, and compliment the chef, and the chink of crockery goes through her head, and she feels slightly dazed, not quite herself. Well, pulque is a mysterious brew, and the punch is liberally spiked with it, courtesy of Yours Truly, of course, in honor of the joyful occasion. As comfort, perhaps, she serves more punch, and the scent of the cloves is like being buried alive, and the taste is like chilies spiced with fire, and she wonders, Will it ever end? The second course is sweet foie gras, sliced on thin toast with quinces and figs. It's the snap that gives this dish its charm, like the snap of correctly tempered chocolate, and the foie gras melts so lingeringly in the mouth, as soft as praline truffle, and it is served with a glass of ice-cold Sauternes that Anouk disdains, but which Rosette sips in a tiny glass no larger than a thimble, and she gives her rare and sunny smile, and signs impatiently for more. The third course is a salmon baked en papillote and served whole, with a béarnaise sauce. Alice complains she is nearly full, but Nico shares his plate with her, feeding her tidbits and laughing at her minuscule appetite. Then comes the pièce de résistance: the goose, long roasted in a hot oven so that the fat has melted from the skin, leaving it crisp and almost caramelized, and the flesh so tender it slips off the bones like a silk stocking from a lady's leg. Around it there are chestnuts and roast potatoes, all cooked and crackling in the golden fat.”

“One platter held two fillets of salmon, each thinly sliced and surrounded by appropriate garnishes and small rounds of dark bread. The other platter had a lush assortment of appetizers. "Why, that's perfectly lovely," said Sally, who immediately had a brioche round swathed with foie gras on the way to her mouth. I attacked the salmon. Between chews, Sally managed to say, "Please thank him for us. I'm sure it's a sweatshop in the kitchen, but when there's time, I'd love to meet him." "I'll be sure to tell him. Right now he's a bit like a chicken without its noggin." "This salmon is delicious. Do you smoke it yourself?"I always like to compliment freebies from the kitchen. It usually keeps them coming. This time I was being totally honest; the salmon was incredible. "Aye, we do. And the other salmon fillet on the plate is cured in tequila and lime juice. We do that here as well. And we bake the brown bread that's with it. All of our salmon comes from Ireland, as well as the dark flour for the bread.”

“A glance through recent newspaper headlines (see, for example,Globe and Mail, August 17, 1995: A2; Vancouver Sun,August 16, 1995: A1) indicates that not much has changed since 1995. Overfishing and depleted stocks have increased tension among the users, and one group in particular, a relatively powerless group holding only 3 percent of the salmon quota, has been particularly targeted by the commercial interests—the aboriginal fishers. The rationale for doing so may be to shirk responsibility for years of overfishing, greed, poor management and bungling DFO officials. It is much easier and convenient to blame a group that has already been effectively blamed in the past and stereotyped as plunderers. Perhaps the proper word to describe the calculated attacks on the aboriginal fishery is racism, pure and simple.”

“Kusunoki left both ingredients as is, wrapping the salmon in the bacon and delicately heating both to elegant perfection. Using the same concept behind the ramen staple seafood-pork broth, melding the umami of both fish and meat together created a powerfully savory flavor. The olive oil bath he used to prevent even a drop of the fish's juices from escaping was also an excellent touch. In the end, his dish was the picture of a salmon's savory deliciousness, perfectly recreated on the plate.”

“HOWARD TANNER WAS NEVER BIG ON THE IDEA OF VALUING NATIVE species simply because they are native. His priority in the 1960s was to convert the lakes from a resource primarily managed as a commercial fishery into a sportsmen’s haven, and native species just didn’t fit his bill—and they still don’t. “I doubt if the charter boat captains can sustain a fishery on lake trout,” he said. He called trolling for native walleye “about the most boring thing you can do.” “Like bringing in a wet sock,” he said.”

“This is the skin and fat of the salmon's stomach!" "The skin is crisp, and when you bite on it the sweet fat comes seeping out..." "A long time ago, there was a lord of a large clan in the Hokuriku area who just loved to eat salmon. That lord especially liked to eat salmon skin, but salmon skin is very thin. Even if you had all the skin of a salmon, it still didn't satisfy him. So one day he said, if there was a salmon with a skin that was one foot thick, he'd be willing to exchange it with ten square miles of land... That is how good the skin of a salmon is. And the meat of a salmon with a lot of fat in it is exceptionally good too. This dish has grilled just those two best parts of it. First, you cut off the dark meat from the belly meat. Then you sprinkle salt onto the skin and the meat and refrigerate for two to three hours. After that, you grill it over charcoal. Being careful not to tear the skin, you roll the skin around the belly meat and pin it with a toothpick; this one is the salted one. On the other hand, this one hasn't been salted; instead, it's been marinated in soy sauce and sake overnight." "Hmm... he used the best part of a salmon and grilled it with salt or with teriyaki sauce." "You can't really call this a proper dish at first glance, but its flavor is definitely supreme!”

“It was in the neck of the Boat pool in October 1922 that Georgina Ballantine, the daughter of a ghillie, landed the largest ever salmon at 64lb. The capture and landing is described as 'Homeric' on the beat's website today. Following its capture and killing, a cast was taken by a taxidermist from Malloch's in Perth. The fish's body was then donated to and eaten by patients and staff at Perth Royal Infirmary. The stuffed fish was then added to the sculpted monuments to the dead going up all along Tayside between the two world wars.”

“The time will soon be here when my grandchild will long for the cry of a loon, the flash of a salmon, the whisper of spruce needles, or the screech of an eagle. But he will not make friends with any of these creatures and when his heart aches with longing, he will curse me. Have I done all to keep the air fresh? Have I cared enough about the water? Have I left the eagle to soar in freedom? Have I done everything I could to earn my grandchild's fondness?”

“A bunch of bong-smoking, America-bashing, flag-burning, yoga-posing, incense-burning, dolphin-saving, salmon-eating hypocrites. These are the sensitive, liberal people who are always yelling about people's freedom of speech and expression, unless you happen to say something that pisses them off.”

“A very poor kid came up to me after a talk and said 'I want to go blow up a factory.' I asked how old he was and he said 17. I said 'have you ever had sex?' He said 'no.' I said 'just remember if you get caught you aren't going to have sex for twenty years at least.' That's not saying that one person having sex is worth the salmon. I'm not saying it's a reason not to act, I'm saying don't be stupid.”

“Here when the labouring fish does at the foot arrive, And finds that by his strength but vainly he doth strive; His tail takes in his teeth, and bending like a bow, That's to the compass drawn, aloft himself doth throw: Then springing at his height, as doth a little wand, That, bended end to end, and flerted from the hand, Far off itself doth cast. so does the salmon vaut. And if at first he fail, his second sommersault He instantly assays and from his nimble ring, Still yarking never leaves, Until himself he fling Above the streamful top of the surrounded heap.”

“When I was a young girl salmon fishing with my father in the Straits of Juan de Fuca in Washington State I used to lean out over the water and try to look past my own face, past the reflection of the boat, past the sun and darkness, down to where the fish were surely swimming. I made up charm songs and word-hopes to tempt the fish, to cause them to mean biting my hook. I believed they would do it if I asked them well and patiently and with the right hope. I am writing my poems like this. I have used the fabric and the people of my life as the bait.”

“It would be a miracle of God if it happened. I know it... If God wills it, the summer rains will fill the wadis... and the salmon will run the river. And then my countrymen... all classes and manner of men-will stand side by side and fish for the salmon. And their natures, too, will be changed. They will feel the enchantment of this silver fish... and then when talk turns to what this tribe said or that tribe did... then someone will say, Let us arise, and go fishing.”

“All who have travelled through the delicious scenery of North Devon must needs know the little white town of Bideford, which slopes upwards from its broad tide-river paved with yellow sands, and many-arched old bridge, where salmon wait for Autumn floods, toward the pleasant upland on the west.”