Salmon senses

From the first touch of oil to pan, cooking fresh salmon is an experience for the senses. 

The olive oil pools, yellows-green against the silver of the stainless pan. As it heats, it spreads and thins until it resembles clouds skittering across the pan. It’s the perfect temp for the fish. 

Fresh salmon with the skin is pink, plump and pliable. Pulling it from its package, it releases into your hands, cool and contained. Skin-side down, it goes into the pan. The immediate sizzle and pop of the oil and fish meeting is culinary music. 

Shaking on herbs de Provence, the scent of good spice fills the air. It clings to the fish and will create a crispy coat. 

Cooking depends on the thickness of the fish. Too little time, and it might be too raw for some people. Too long, and it turns tough or rubbery. Perfectly cooked salmon is soft but doesn’t fall apart. 

The fish is flipped once, to allow the spices to cook as a second skin. Watching the edges turn from dark pink to light helps judge the doneness. 

On the plate, it’s a beautiful sight. Whether served with salad, pasta or vegetables, it complements perfectly. 

It flakes into pieces that melt in your mouth. Bite after bite, it’s delicious. It fills your mouth with a silkiness you don’t usually find outside of fruits or dessert. I hate for it to end. 

All of the senses are activated, culminating in a delightful meal. I highly recommend it — but you only get the full experience when you cook it yourself.