Edible Flowers

Its spring and there are so many tasty plants to gather that people sometimes neglect some of the more beautiful ones—edible flowers! I first tried this on the occasion of my sister Justine’s wedding. It makes such a beautiful addition to a wedding cake that I’d highly recommend anyone with a friend or family member having a Summer wedding coming up try it. I’ve given the recipe here for violets and salmonberry flowers but there are lots of other edible flowers. Nasturtiums, pansies, rose petals, zucchini, lilac, geraniums, begonias, borage, and lavender; to name a few, are all also edible. That being said, I think sugaring probably works best on delicate flowers because they dry rapidly.

Sugared Violets and Salmonberry Flowers
Tools:
Small paint brush

Ingredients:
10 freshly picked violets
10 freshly picked salmonberry flowers
1 egg worth of powdered egg whites (don’t use fresh, this avoids salmonella)
6 drops 100-proof vodka
Superfine (caster) sugar

Instructions:
Resuscitate egg whites and beat until frothy. The addition of vodka will help the flowers dry more quickly. Paint each flower thoroughly with the beaten egg white mix. Set on wire rack to dry. Once sugared, the flowers last up to a year in the fridge if they are kept dry. Store in air tight container and layer with paper towels.

 

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Sugared yellow violet and salmonberry flowers.

 

Black Cod

It was in the late 1980s before limited entry, when 2 to 3-day ‘derby’ longline fisheries were still the norm in Southeast Alaska. We were three miles offshore Yakobi Island in a 100-year-old wooden troller, the F/V Delores, pulling black cod (also known as sablefish, species name Anoplopoma fimbria, not really a cod at all but a deep-water cod-like fish, very fatty and tasty) longline gear in building seas, when the diesel engine sputtered and died. My then-boyfriend, Tom had purchased the Delores for a song several years previously after her second sinking and repowered and resurrected her. She was 32-feet long at the waterline, but with her small cabin and double-ended hull design with gentle shear, she handled seas like a vessel twice her size. We had been baiting up in nearby Pelican for several days and had miles of longline gear out. Our work was paying off as the fishing was good: nearly every other hook had a large, beautiful black cod on it and our hold was filling fast.
Tom took one look below and announced that the engine room was full of water. We still had nearly a mile of longline gear out and it was a pitch-black night. As Tom disappeared below deck, I found myself alone in the darkened wheel house, wondering how long until the battery was submerged, killing the Loran-C and marine VHF radio. Near panic, I grabbed the VHF radio microphone and put out the call: “May Day, May Day, this is the F/V Delores,” giving our loran coordinates. This is the universally-accepted distress call for a vessel at sea. I later learned that numerous nearby commercial fishing boats, upon hearing our call, stopped pulling and began steaming towards us, losing precious fishing time. However, just then Tom emerged from below and the diesel sputtered to life as the bilge pumps cleared the engine room—hearing me, he turned off the VHF in horror. We buoyed off the longline gear, and quietly steamed for Pelican to offload our catch. I’ve always been grateful for the help we almost needed and embarrassed that I didn’t turn the radio back on and grab the microphone to let the fleet know we were alright. But under the circumstances I was happy to be underway, and quiet acquiescence seemed the best path. Probably the thing I missed most when my commercial fishing career abruptly ended after Tom and I split up was the sense of community on the water. The Coast Guard is great if they can get to you in time when you need them (and I am extremely grateful for the two times I have been rescued by them), but it’s more likely that another fisherman will help you out.
My culinary education on black cod had begun several years earlier in Japan. It is probably the tastiest beer-drinking food of the Japanese “salary man”. It is most commonly eaten marinated for a day in various combinations of sake-kasu (the solids leftover after fermenting rice into sake), miso, ginger, soy sauce, and rice wine vinegar and then broiled or roasted, although it is also excellent raw, as sashimi. I recently revived a version of what I remember eating in Tokyo, after an extensive hunt for the sake-kasu. Here is the recipe, however, if it as difficult for you as it was for me to find sake-kasu (I finally located an artisanal sake maker in Vancouver who shipped me some!) you can eliminate it and just use miso and the fish will still be delicious! Honestly, if you are a lover of rich, oily fish it is hard to ruin black cod. The oiliness of this fish also means its extremely high in Omega 3 fatty acids making it a very heart healthy food.
Sake kasu and Miso-marinated Broiled Black cod
Tools:
Broiler pan
Bowl
Whisk
Gallon ziplock bag
Ingredients:
2 lbs black cod filets or steaks
⅓ c sake-kasu
⅓ c yellow miso
⅓ c soy sauce
3 T sugar
⅓ c rice wine vinegar
3 T grated fresh ginger
Instructions:
Combine sake-kasu, miso, soy sauce, sugar, rice wine vinegar, and grated fresh ginger in bowl, whisk until smooth and put in gallon ziplock bag. Add black cod filets to ziplock bag, close and marinate in refrigerator for 40 minutes to 12 hours.
Turn broiler to high, preheat broiler pan for 5 minutes. Remove black cod from refrigerator, put on preheated broiler pan, return to oven with rack on second highest rung. Broil for 7 minutes until top of fish is just beginning to blacken. Turn oven to bake and set at 400 F. Finish cooking fish for another approximately 7 minutes (depending upon filet thickness) until fish is cooked through. This recipe serves 4, I like to serve it with short-grain brown rice.

Bristol Bay Red King Crab

During the heyday of the Bristol Bay red king crab fishery in the mid 1980s, I was working in Juneau as a Fisheries Technician and was given the opportunity to travel to Dutch Harbor to assist on a pilot tagging project being conducted by the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, Commercial Fisheries Division, research section based in Kodiak. They needed more trained dockside samplers to attempt tag recovery of PIT (passive integrated transponder) tags implanted in red king crab to test the feasibility of a full scale, field-level tagging project. The purpose of this project was to develop a tag not visually detectable externally. This was to address a problem with crab spaghetti tags being either lost during the molt or removed from by crew members to adorn their hats instead of returned to ADF&G for the paltry tag reward. Crab grow through a process called molting wherein they shed their old shell and grow a new one. Tags are used by biologists to study crab growth, movement, and harvest rate to provide for sustainable management.

As the crab boats pulled up to the UNISEA processing plant unloading dock, we dockside samplers went aboard, interviewed the skipper in the wheelhouse, and then sampled totes of red king crabs as they were offloaded. Stepping onto the vessel bridge and into the wheelhouse you entered a tiny fiefdom, the character of each determined by the captain, and generally reflected in the demeanor of the crew and quality of the red king crab catch. The unmistakable cream of the crop were the thick-accented, close-cropped, soft-spoken Norwegian skippers with their crew gliding efficiently in the background, responding efficiently to the Captain’s quiet commands. With their immaculate bridges and tidy decks, these operations were a joy to behold, and invariably yielded vigorous, lively crab with little dead loss. Below this gold standard there were bleary-eyed, leering captains with sullen, beer-swilling crew presiding over debris-strewn bridges with holds full of sluggish crabs and every level imaginable between. It was truly the ‘Wild West’ of the red king crab fishery; fortunes were being made while lives were lost and bodies ruined.

The research staff outside the processing plant inserted PIT tags into the tail of crabs and salted totes with the tagged crabs. Inside the processing plant, we samplers scanned crab with a PIT tag detector as we measured their carapace length and examined them for shell age. Only a few of us samplers had a good detection rate, and the effort was determined a failure and the method scrapped. Crab biologists worldwide are still struggling to develop a decent method to age crabs. Current crab growth research has several different avenues of investigation: the accumulated level of lipofuscin, a pigment in the crab’s eyestalk; distinguishing growth rings by sectioning hard parts in the crab’s stomach that are retained through the molt; and the idea of implanting crabs with ‘pearl’ seed which develop growth rings.

I returned to Dutch Harbor about 5 years ago, passing through enroute to a research cruise, and found it much changed, probably for the better. The ‘Wild West’ mentality had been replaced by an orderly and efficient company town.

Here is a decadent and fun recipe I like to use for leftover red king crab meat. Use it to wow your dinner party with fairly minimal effort!

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Seafood a la king

Tools:

Medium sauce pan

Cookie sheet

Ingredients:

10 oz cooked red king crab meat

10 oz cooked northern salad shrimp

1 box puff pastry shells

4 T butter

4 T all-purpose flour

2 c milk

½ t pepper

½ t salt

1/8 t nutmeg

Pinch cayenne

1 c frozen peas

½ a red pepper, chopped

1 T pimento

1 medium onion, chopped

4 dashes Worcestershire sauce

Instructions:

Preheat oven to 400° F. Put puff pastry shells on cookie sheet and bake for 15 min.
Pull crab and shrimp meat from refrigerator, allow to come to room temperature.
Melt butter, add chopped onions and red pepper and sauté until onion is translucent. Slowly whisk in flour until mixed. Add milk and heat, stirring constantly until mixture thickens. Season to taste with salt, pepper, nutmeg, and cayenne, remembering that the cooked crab is often somewhat salty. Add pimentos, capers, and Worcestershire sauce.
Fold in peas, cook until warmed.
Fold in room temperature crab and shrimp.
Spoon mixture over puff pastry shells and serve hot.

 

Lanzarote-style Garlic Shrimp

My son Corwin was home over Christmas and we enjoyed doing a lot of cooking together. It’s such a joy to share the love of making and eating good food with my grown son! Some years ago, we took a family vacation to the Canary Islands where we visited some wonderful Spanish college friends of mine. The weather was sunny, the scenery lovely, but perhaps the most enjoyable and interesting part of the trip was the culture and the food! We had countless incredible meals, but one particularly stood out—-a simple garlic shrimp dish we enjoyed on Lanzarote Island. Ever since this time Corwin and I have been reminiscing about it and plotting to recreate the recipe! Turns out it was a renowned Island specialty and I recently rediscovered the recipe through the wonders of the internet. So, we set about to try to cook it. Here it is!

Lanzarote-style garlic shrimp tapas
Tools:
Oven-proof small casserole, cast iron pan, or terra cotta dish
Fry pan

Ingredients:
1 lb raw peeled prawns
10 cloves garlic
1 tsp red pepper flakes
½ cup olive oil – not extra virgin
Large knob butter
1 tsp spanish paprika
Juice of 1 lemon
Salt and pepper to taste
½ c chopped flat-leaf parsley

Instructions:
On Lanzarotte, this ‘tapas’ is served in a special oven-proof terra cotta dish. I substituted a small cast-iron fry pan but am on the lookout for a suitable small casserole which would be a more elegant serving method. Before you start cooking, put your serving dish in a very hot oven to heat and prepare a heat-proof place for it on the dining table.
– Put the olive oil in a pre-heated frying pan on high heat.
– Add the prawns, garlic and chili, and cook for one minute at high heat.
– Add the butter and paprika and stir.
– Put hot serving dish on table.
– Carefully transfer fry pan ingredients to hot serving dish.
– Add lemon juice and sprinkle parsley over.
– Eat with a good loaf of artisanal bread to mop up juices.

Post-script:
Truthfully, the outcome of this cooking adventure didn’t measure up to our memories of the dish. Upon reflection, I think the problem was two-fold. First, we used way too much olive oil because the recipe we were following was in ml and I was careless in converting it, and secondly the shrimp were not fresh enough.
Despite initially capturing a higher quality product, wild-capture fisheries sometimes have difficulty delivering it to market at a comparable freshness as a farmed product. Frozen seafood can be as good or better than fresh, but a very short period between capture and freezing and careful handling is required to maximize quality. The main cause of poor quality is high ‘fishery intensity’ or short seasons and excessive effort. This results from too many vessels and too much gear in the fishery, and from managers shortening fishing time to prevent overshooting target harvest levels while fishermen fish harder to maximize their catch share. Product quality subsequently declines further as it sits in cold storage. As a fisheries biologist who is also a cook, it pains me to see wild product looking bedraggled at the super market.
In contrast, high quality product is produced by Southeast Alaskan longline fisheries for which fishermen have their catch share pre-determined by their IFQs (Individual Fisheries Quota) so can fish in a more leisurely fashion, improving profits by attention to product quality rather than by increasing production.
Relaxing intensification to allow for leisurely production of high quality wild product would also benefit the resource as intense fishing results in more bycatch and habitat damage. But it would require extensive re-imagining of the current Southeast Alaskan shellfish fisheries management regime. IFQs are currently deemed unconstitutional for State fisheries. One of the main reasons for this is that they give ‘de facto’ ownership of the fishery to commercial fishermen. In the Alaska State Constitution, resources are owned equally by all State residents. This sounds like a really good idea, however, without explicit allocations to user groups, it puts Alaska square in the middle of the classic ‘Tragedy of the Commons’ described in 18th Century England, where resources owned by all are competed for and valued by none.
I had the good fortune to study for and obtain my Master of Science in Fisheries in Japan where there are thousands rather than hundreds of years of history in managing fisheries (not all of them successful). I studied a commercial shrimp fishery which is owned by the local fisheries cooperative who manage it based upon research advice from the regional government fisheries laboratory. Product is cooperatively produced by a small subset of vessels and the profits are shared by all.
Another interesting model is the Nova Scotia lobster fishery where harvest areas are opened consecutively throughout the summer, providing for a long season of fresh lobster availability and good quality and price to fishermen.
These ideas cannot be directly transferred to Southeast Alaska’s State fisheries, nor would we want to. While the implementation of IFQs for Federal fisheries in Alaska has improved product quality, it has also resulted in harvest share migrating out of small Alaskan communities and made entry difficult for young people. Expanding the IFQ approach to State-managed Alaskan fisheries would require harvestable surplus estimates and allocation plans between commercial, sport, and subsistence fisheries. It should also include mechanisms to keep permits in small communities. Other ideas that could be explored include permit buy-backs, permit stacking, and fishing days.
My intent here is not to imply a simple answer to the problem of intensification of fisheries but to suggest that a dialogue begin. As the importance of tourism in Southeast Alaska continues to increase, the success of the emerging local foods scene will be determined by modifying fisheries to provide fresh, high quality product throughout more of the year.

Red King Crab

It was a calm June day in Southeast Alaska. We were setting 200-lb, 7-ft base diameter conical crab pots to survey the red king crab grounds for the Alaska Department of Fish and Game. As our own research vessel was overbooked this June, we were working on a chartered commercial vessel. We zigzagged through the area setting pots in preselected locations. Setting pots on a survey is different from commercial fishing as the pot locations are randomly predetermined (within areas of known crab habitat based upon historical survey catch distribution) so that the catch will be representative of the area and year, not of the skipper’s skill and knowledge. However, when chartering with a commercial skipper we habitually set additional ‘skippers choice,’ ‘prospecting’ pots using his knowledge of the area to expand our own.

I was having a hard time making myself useful. The deckhand wasn’t big, but commanded the deck with lithe, fluid movements. Grab the bait jars, throw them in the pot, snap them onto the webbing, using the hydraulic boom, lift the pot onto the launcher, throw the buoy and line over, launch the pot on the skippers’ quiet command over the deck speaker. Having performed these tasks as part of a team of three, I could see that there wasn’t any wasted movement here. The sparse, purposeful motion reminded me of the Japanese tea ceremony. As a biologist, field work is a welcome break from sitting at a computer analyzing data and writing reports; and it is a joy to work physically on the deck of a boat, so I did my best to contribute.

Several hours later we were done setting pots. We entered data into the computer as the boat rocked gently at anchor, then ate a simple tasty dinner, watched the sun set, and hit the sack.

The next morning, 18 hours later, we started pulling pots. Another nice day, not too sunny to dry out the crabs and make the bait smelly, but not too blowy or rough either, and the horse flies hadn’t hatched out yet as they would later in July. The pots came aboard as smoothly as they had gone over. Throw the hook to grapple the buoy, hand over hand the buoy aboard, wrap the crab block, and with a whine of the hydraulics, the pot surfaces. Hook the pot with the boom hook and pull it over the deck, unhook the purse line that holds the pot bottom closed, and release the crab onto the sorting table. Sort and measure the crab. There were big beautiful legal males, most with shiny clean shells, a few barnacle-studded and scratched; the females all have abdomens bulging with new purple-brown egg clutches, and the juveniles are spiny and quick. After we measure them, crabs are released gently overboard; they swim away, dreamlike into the depths. It is satisfying, rewarding work.

Back in the office our biometrician was waiting impatiently for this data, as the time between data collection, analysis, and management decisions is tight. He estimates the red king crab population size through mathematical modeling techniques. This information is used to set harvest levels for the commercial and sport fisheries in the area.

While fun to know how crabs get to our table, the biggest consideration for cooks is what recipe to use! In all honesty, I like king crab best sectioned, boiled in lightly salted water and dipped in butter. However, if you are lucky enough to have an abundance of this delicacy, then I can heartily recommend this recipe.

 

Thai Red King Crab Legs

Tools:

Cooking shears

Cutting board

Knife

Hand juicer

Large fry pan or wok with lid

 

Ingredients:

1 lb shell-on, uncooked red or golden king crab legs

3 T grape seed oil or canola oil

2 large shallots

1 clove garlic

1 ½ T ginger, julienned

2 T Thai fish sauce

1 t red pepper flakes

½ c dry white wine

Juice of 1 lime

½ lb green beans

1 c cooked short-grain white rice

 

Instructions:

  • Cut king crab legs in sections and then halve lengthwise with kitchen shears.
  • Slice shallots and garlic thinly and julienne ginger.
  • Cut green beans in bite-size lengths, remove stems.
  • Put grape seed oil in wok and heat until sizzling, add shallots, garlic, ginger, and red pepper flakes, cook until shallots are translucent.
  • Add shell-on king crab leg sections, green beans, fish sauce, chicken stock, and white wine to shallot mixture.*
  • Cover and cook for 6 minutes.
  • Serve over boiled short-grain white rice.
  • This recipe feeds 2 people.

 

* If crab leg sections are cooked, add them at about minute 4 of the 6-minute cooking time.

Dungeness Crab

We were walking a northern California beach at low tide looking for female Dungeness crabs buried in the sand for a friend’s PhD research project on Dungeness fecundity. My years of clam digging were paying off, the slightly angular buried crab image was easily identifiable and I found crab after wriggling female crab—orange egg masses bulging and claws attempting to pinch me. Back in the lab we (killed the crab and) removed the egg mass and estimated the number of eggs. Astonishingly, a female Dungeness can produce 2 to 3 million eggs per clutch. This is the reason she buries herself in the sand, its too many eggs to be carrying around. In Southeast Alaska, female Dungeness crabs bury themselves 5-crab deep and spend the winter hunkered down subsisting on stored energy reserves. The choice of where to bury is important because the eggs need to remain aerated during the approximately 6-month development period. SCUBA divers have found huge football field-size aggregations of these buried females in areas where the sediment has good water flow. In the spring, when the water warms up and phytoplankton blooms, females emerge from the sediment and fan their abdomens to release the attached embryos, which swim off to spend the summer munching plankton before settling to the bottom in the fall as baby crabs. About 5 years later, the crabs reach harvestable size. In Juneau, an evening’s skiff ride to pull crab pots or a trip to the harbor where commercial fishermen sell dockside, can net you a tasty 2 ½-lb Dungie or two. To be honest, I really don’t like messing around with fancy recipes for crab meat until I’ve eaten quite a bit simply boiled and dipped in butter! But after a couple of meals of unembellished fresh crab meat I’m ready to experiment. Here is one of my favorite recipes for Dungeness crab!
Dungeness crab melts
Tools:
Stock pan
Broiler pan
Bowl
Whisk

Ingredients:
One Dungeness crab
8 cups water
2 T salt
4 dashes Worcestershire sauce
Juice of ½ lemon
2 T capers
2 T horseradish
½ t black pepper
½ c mayonnaise
6 English muffins
Butter
8 oz Monterey Jack cheese

Instructions:
Clean crab, crack its sternum by banging hard on rounded blunt surface, pull off carapace (shell), and break body into two halves; remove gills and any innards clinging to meat. Bring salted water to boil in large stock pan. Add crab halves and boil for approximately 10 minutes. Remove crab from boiling water and shell.
Combine crab meat with mayonnaise, Worcestershire sauce, lemon juice, capers, horseradish, and pepper.
Split, toast and butter English muffins, arrange on broiler pan.
Top muffins with crab mixture.
Grate Monterey Jack cheese and spread over crab.
Broil crab melts on high for approximately 5 minutes on second shelf of oven until cheese melts, then turn oven to bake at 400 °F and continue warming crab melts for approximately 7 additional minutes.
This recipe serves 4 to 6 people.

Salmon Heads

A warm August evening found my son Corwin (then 10), friend Daniel (15), sister Brita and I hunkered around a fire at our camp on the back side of Portland Island, a short 20 minute skiff ride from Juneau’s Auke Bay. The Lund skiff rocked gently at anchor offshore. We’d finished half of Daniel’s first Coho, caught earlier that day while trolling at South Shelter Island, and were still a little bit hungry. The coals were glowing in a state of perfection that usually happens AFTER you’ve finished cooking whatever you had for your main dish. As dusk slowly fell, the boys skewered the coho head and started to slow roast it over the fire. We sat around, reflecting on the perfection of the day, listening to whales breathe offshore and inhaling the wonderful aroma of roasting salmon. After about an hour of roasting it was pitch dark and the head was done to perfection. We sat around in the light of the fire and picked off greasy, delicious pieces of head meat and popped them into our mouths like cave men. After a little while we put the fire out and stumbled into the woods to our tents to sleep, cheeks glowing and stomachs heavy with good food.

After years of practice, I’m actually pretty good at fileting salmon. Nonetheless, it has always pained me to waste salmon heads, collars, skeletons, fins, tails, hearts, and gonads. This is in part innate, and part a result of having eaten a lot of good meals from these parts. Just like a mammal, different parts of the fish have different flavors, textures, and oil content, and meat on the bone tends to be more flavorful and oily. For this reason, I’m always on the lookout for recipes that use salmon heads. If you’re not out camping, this light and delicious Phillipino soup recipe (modified from The Splendid Table) uses salmon heads and shell-on northern shrimp. I particularly like this recipe because while it feels like a treat, the richness is strictly from healthy seafood Omega-3 fats.

Seafood Sinigang Soup

Tools:

Large stock pot

Collander

Small tea strainer

 

Ingredients:

King or coho salmon head with collar, backbone, fins, and tail

¾ lb shell-on northern spot prawns or sidestripe shrimp, preferably with heads

2 c long-grain white rice

6 oz tamarind paste

¼ c fish sauce

1 14.5-oz can diced tomatoes

1 medium yellow onion

3 cloves fresh garlic

1 orange, red, or yellow pepper

½ pound kale

2 medium carrots

1/8 c chicken bouillon paste

4 c water

4 c rice washing water

½ tsp black pepper

Calamansi juice to taste

Instructions:

  • Simmer salmon head, bones, and fins in 4 c water, remove to strainer and cool, separate meat from bones and retain
  • Wash rice, retaining wash water and transfer to stock pot with salmon stock
  • Add 1 c hot water to tamarind paste, let sit for approx. 10 min then sieve to remove seeds, pod, and fibers
  • Chop onion and garlic
  • Slice pepper and carrots, remove mid-ribs from kale leaves and shred
  • Add tamarind paste, fish sauce, tomatoes, and chicken bouillon to stock pot, bring to boil
  • Reduce to simmer and add carrots, peppers, onion, garlic, and black pepper, simmer for 15 minutes
  • Just before serving add shrimp, kale, and salmon head meat, simmer for an additional 3 minutes
  • Serve over cooked rice, add calamansi juice* to taste

*Note that lime or lemon juice or rice wine vinegar may be substituted for the calamansi juice.