My Fish Relationship Develops

Browsing through the market for weekend goodies, I finally decided, for the first time in my life, to voluntarily purchase smoked salmon.

I only started eating salmon at all about ten years ago- which is highly unusual around here. My local-boy paramour was appropriately scandalized and introduced it to me quickly. Eventually, several salmon recipes (broiled, baked, or sauteed) worked their way into rotation.

Smoked salmon and I would meet a few times a year, usually at some function (cocktails, gala, pretend elegance in a cheaply carpeted holding pen of a convention centre sort of event) and I would pick or eat as required according to the function and the company. Gradually, it became less difficult. At a luncheon earlier this month, hosted by someone who can afford the best, smoked salmon and I met again. It was thinly and beautiful sliced, dressed with capers and the best olive oil I have ever had the fortune to try. Its flattering company was a mozzarella salad and a Greek salad. I was surprised to discover that smoked salmon and I loved each other. And I have been thinking of it ever since.

Without ever trying it, or even imagining it before, I could begin to understand why cream cheese and smoked salmon would be complimentary to each other. I realize this is not evidence of genius, plenty of people know about this, but I do find it interesting how we begin to imagine flavours and their partners.

Lloyd's in the Market is a favourite place for smoked slamon around here, if you can't drive down Highway #1 yourself and go straight to the smoker's huts. Or do it yourself. I picked up one filet, some cream cheese, and Montreal bagels from Pete's. It was delicious. A perfect brunch, and now I finally understand why people always talk about this lovely taste partnership.